Like A New Beach

Last night I got a message from Mark, our boss, that he was coming to visit.  Steve and I were excited to hear the details when he finally called back.  Mark had to drop ice off to the island to the north, Wassaw National Wildlife Refuge, which does not have electricity.  He'd arrive early in the morning and meet us on North Beach.  Steve woke up extra early this morning because we went to bed early last night.  He had the Mule mostly packed by the time I was out of bed.  I made breakfast and together we got us out of the house.  Steve drove the truck to the dock for Mark and then we headed to the beach.

As soon as we pulled the Mule on the beach, we both were shocked at what last night's tide had done to our beach.  If it looked this bad here, what would the rest look like?  We had already expected a high tide with the approach of the full moon, but the strong northeasterly winds pushed the water much farther than anticipated.  Steve turned south to drop me off at the kayak.  Until today we joked at the short distance across the creek.  Some days you could push yourself from one bank to the other (which also means you could walk), but today, the distance was as least tripled, with wind, waves, and current added.  I grabbed the kayak, and box of supplies, kicked off my flip flops and headed across.  Not hard work, but the waves were an added treat.  I arrived on the other side, pulled the kayak to a safe level and headed for the bike.  From the other side, Steve and I could already tell that the nest on the north tip (NM1) had been washed over.  The screens were obviously pushed up.  I went for closer inspection and it wasn't looking good.  The new wrack line was a couple feet higher than the nest.  I restaked the screen and went for the bike.  I was very sad for the eggs, but the beach had to be surveyed.  I continued on the bike for a bit.  Most of the beach that I knew was gone.  The water had pushed so high that I realized there is not much safe nesting area.  I tried to push on with the bike, but the soft sand forced me off.  Every hundred meters or so I'd pedal, get off, walk, and so on.  Soon I rode up to a crawl - false crawl.  No body pit.  She hit the beach and turned right around. I did the work and rode on, sort of.  I still can't believe how little beach was left.  Nearly an hour later I was back at the Mule.  The bike is supposed to take twenty minutes; the walk, an hour.  Ugh.  

Steve drove me north.  He had already spotted one false crawl, but couldn't continue the survey because of the high tide, which peaked at 7:20AM.  He stopped at our nests.  The first few were high and dry, but the next few were too low.  We cleared it of the sand and wrack.  It only looked like a slight washover.  The next one was not so lucky.  It was clearly inundated with water.  We cleared that one too.  Steve drove us to the point which is difficult to pass at high water.  We easily made it for some distance, until we hit the "new" creek.  It existed our first few days, but receded back to the marsh.  Today it was flowing.  As we waited to pass, we took the opportunity to take pictures and explore.  Eventually the tide dropped and we could get by.  We soon found out next false crawl.  It was pretty close to one of our relocated nests, which was fine.  By this point Mark had called to let us know he had reached the beach.  We drove around the north end, only experiencing difficulty with soft sand.  Our first nest, NB1, was slightly washed over.  It was 11 days old today.  Mark tells us that it's natural, not to worry.  We're new at this, so how can we not?  We headed back to meet him, and continue the survey.

Mark showed us his treasure.  I call it treasure - anything found on the beach.  With careful eyes, and good intentions, anything picked up is often worthy.  He found a large whole cockleshell for his daughter.  With some glue and a latch, it'll make her smile.  Steve and Mark got in the truck for the drive south, me in the Mule.  Once in the south, we all jumped in the Mule and surveyed South Beach.  One of three nests washed over.  Then all three of us headed to the ATV.  A couple of nests washed over here.  Soon we found two more false crawls, one of which we all thought was a nest and dug around for quite a while.  It was a great learning experience to have Mark along for.  Steve and I joked later that we'd have been there for hours.  Back on land, the plan was to get home and then take us to Savannah so we could go shop for better rain gear.  We raced home and soon headed off the island.

Steve drove us to Bass Pro Shops.  We had fun with the clerk and walked out with some jackets that better work.  We stopped at Radio Shack to return the walkie talkies that can't handle Ossabaw.  We apparently live in a bubble.  After a quick stop at the grocery store, we were back at the dock.  Time on "the hill" is always too short.