Interesting place and very busy docking at the Charleston City Marina complete with a shuttle car to downtown historic district and the local grocery store. We decided on the horse carriage ride to give us a synopsis of the history and views of the famous city. I have to say (and I hear Mark saying “well just say it”), I much preferred the tour of Beaufort. The city of Charleston collects a piece of the pie and every carriage must make a stop before their tour and like a bingo game, a specific tour is allotted for us. Being crammed in the carriage so as not to be able to turn my head or raise my camera, coupled with the downside of the bingo ball and the tour was a little less than anticipated.
We especially enjoyed the downtown market and more specifically the education received at DNA Baskets, a sweetgrass basket vendor who kindly and eloquently gave his version of the origins and skills required in the creation of sweetgrass baskets. The basket I finally decided upon was created by his wife who learned the skill from her mother, who had the art passed down from her mother. These basket making techniques originated with West African people who came to South Carolina as slaves. I commented that I would have loved to meet the maker of my basket, Darryl’s wife Angela and let her know how well he represented their family. He whipped out his cell phone and proceeded to call his wife. “Hi honey, Miss Terri would like to speak with you.” So-o I was able to relate my thoughts to his sweet wife, who I am sure had just woken up from a nap! The sweetgrass basket will take its honorary place at our Northern Bruce Peninsula cottage alongside the pineneedle basket purchased in Florida from a skilled craftswoman and the woven box, created by a Manitoulin Island craftswoman, I intend to purchase upon my return to the great white (white meaning snow) north.
Oh, we can’t leave Charleston without mentioning Mark’s little swim in the marina basin. Earlier in the day he decided to soak Smudge’s pee pad off the side of the boat by tying a line around it and attaching it to the swim platform. But there is a slight tide (6 feet) and current that was not factored into his thought processes. So-o when he tried to pull it up, he discovered that it had wound itself around the rudder a few times. Wasting no time, he put on the snorkel glasses, hopped into a bathing-suit, grabbed a knife and jumped in the murky waters of Charleston City Marina! Smudge’s hero! Mark saved the pee pad and didn’t even have to use the knife, although the barnacles on the dock posts left him with a few scrapes. Upon observing this scene, a passerby remarked to me, “You have a good man there!” “I heartily agree!” I replied with a smile.
|Getting nowhere slowly|
|Watching over the stables|
|Charleston Antebellum house|
|Downtown Charleston house & garden|
|Front of Jail|
|Mark with tour horse Loretta|
|Terri trying to decide|
|Old church window|
|Charleston Downtown Historic Market|
|Terri speaking to DNA Darryl's wife Angela on cellphone|
|Day is done Charleston City Marina|