23. Georgetown

Howdy sports fans!

Shortly after the events of my last post, I found myself being jumped on by an unbelievably sweet and tiny dogbeast called Milo. I met this ferocious creature in the dock office at Harborwalk Marina, where I’d signed Sylphide and myself up for a two night stay.

In my initial planning, I hadn’t put much thought into G’town, and had considered finding a place to anchor instead. I’m extremely glad I asked my Trawler Forum family first, as the consensus was something like ‘no Dave, that’s stupid,’ and now this stop has become one of my favorites so far.

It’s a small town, very much like the one I grew up in, but without the mittens, meth labs, and Seasonal Affective Disorder. It’s entirely possible that there are cold and cranky people there, but I didn’t meet any. In fact, the weather was so absolutely perfect while I was there, that it was nearly impossible to be anything other than content. It’s a very pretty town, filled with beautiful old houses, covered by live oaks, which are themselves covered with Spanish moss. There’s even an old timey clock tower, complete with a bell that tolls on the hour and half hour. It’s amazing how much charm one old building like that can add to a town. It’s the sort of place that an ignorant northern tourist like me hopes to find in the south.

I spent my time in Georgetown wandering the streets, snapping pictures every nine feet, and trying not to buy junk food and trinkets that I didn’t need. I was mostly successful, but the regret I carried at not buying the ‘Toe Jam’ at Coinjock meant that when I was confronted with a small pot of ‘Sweet Potato Butter,’ there was zero chance I wasn’t taking some with me. Turns out it’s pretty tasty.

The one thing that I wasn’t able to find was a haircut. I’d been looking for one since North Myrtle Beach, but the more than TEN places I called there were all booked for days, so I gave up. I figured it would be easier in a smaller town like Georgeburg, and I found a couple of places to try. The first one was supposed to be open according to Google, but wasn’t. The second place should have been open according to both Google and the sign on the door, but also wasn’t. I bravely decided to give up again, and instead of chopping them off, I took my overgrown Kudzu vine Diana Ross hair, and unruly Andy Rooney eyebrows out to dinner at the River Room.

As usual, I ended up staying about twice as long as I’d expected to. Day three rolled around, and I just didn’t feel like leaving yet, so I didn’t. Day four arrived, and while my feet had started to get itchy, the wind had other ideas. It was blowing steady in the high teens and low twenties, with regular gusts over 30, as it seems to want to do every few days this time of year. The wind was pinning me to the dock, and while the engine warmed up, I spent some time going over my options for departure, and fiddling with my lines. I talked myself into, and then out of leaving several times. In the end, I decided that I wasn’t entirely confident that I’d be able to depart without taking a chunk out of the Fleming 65 in front of me, so I shut down the engine, reconnected the shore power, and forced myself to enjoy the company of my lovely neighbors in this lovely town for another lovely day.


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