It took me a moment to realize what we were doing.  We planned to depart Georgetown that morning and travel to McClellanville…

It struck us as very odd  – given that my dad’s name is George McClellan!

Georgetown is a lovely place with a beautiful historic district, lots of restaurants and shops to browse and at least three shrimp places to purchase fresh seafood, right off the boat!  Just to be clear, although I get very excited about such things, like Lobster dinners and fresh shrimp, it’s only because I think it’s exciting for Tim – I actually don’t eat anything that swims.  🙂

Shrimp boats

Georgetown Harbour

Great breakfast in Georgetown

Super cute lawn ornaments

Historic Georgetown Homes – they all look like this!  (Note the palm trees in the yard!)

Or they look like this…double stacked porches are common.

Fresh Shrimp – for Tim!

From Georgetown we travelled a very short distance to the very small town of McClellanville (population about 500).  It had been two weeks since we had moved the boat and some time since we’d travelled on our own (without our boat buddies) so we decided to start out slowly.

Besides, I couldn’t pass McClellanville without having a peek!

McClellan is even spelled correctly!  It’s amazing to wander about a town with your last name splashed everywhere.

Sadly I have no idea if my family has any connections to the families that lived here.  Dad? Do you know?

This is the Deerhead Oak believed to be 1000 years old – crazy!

McClellanville Harbour

The harbour in McClellanville is too small to anchor out in, there is a small dock that can accommodate transients, but we decided to anchor almost 3 miles away in Five Fathom Creek.  It looks like there is nothing around for miles, but shrimp boats weave their way through the rivers and creek in the tall grass.  It can feel a bit creepy seeing only the top bits of the shrimp boats.

Later that evening, after the sun had set, Tim was on the back of the boat BBQing our supper when he rushed down to grab our huge spot light.  “I heard something out there” he said dashing back up the companionway.  I quickly followed and heard this erie deep baritone sound – a cross between a “whoosh” and a sigh coming from the water.  We swept the dark water with the light and caught a glimpse of something just breaking the surface of the water and making the deep breathy sound before sinking again.  We heard the sound a couple more times before it faded into the night, but were not able to see it again.  Was that a whale?  We’ll never know for sure.

Grace V in Five Fathom Creek anchorage