Salt Marsh Diaries: Creek Tales
By Anton Dumars, Tideline Tours
As a tour boat captain, I educate by showing and telling in a sneaky, fun way. Just like me, my guests learn something new. The salt marsh and my guests provide me with a new story each trip. I’ve condensed three stories from recent trips below:
Leading a group of folks down the dock to my boat, I hear young Olivia’s non-subtle 3-year old voice repeating, “Mom, he’s got a pony tail…Mom, he’s got a pony tail…MOM, HE’S GOT A PONY TAIL!” I’m a 50ish, gray-haired, pony-tailed (sometimes braided), bearded man who’s playful like an 8-year-old. As everyone settled in, Olivia stared at me, apparently wondering just what I am.
Underway and around the first bend, I recognize a mother dolphin that recently lost her newborn calf.
“See those notches on the tail-end of her dorsal fin? I’m yet to name her.”
“Name her Olivia,” said Olivia. And Olivia she became.
Later on, we talked oysters – how they eat, reproduce, grow… “and I have a pony tail” I randomly announced.
“You look like a girl!” protested Olivia.
“You look like a girl!” I shot back.
“I am a girl!” she justified. Nothing resolved.
On another trip, with a different young girl named Olivia, we spotted Olivia, the mother dolphin, half a mile from where we named her. Both Olivias smiled widely.
One Sunday afternoon, seven freshly graduated 6th grade girls, plus Mom and Dad, chose to celebrate aboard TIDELINE. Seven 6th grade girls make lots of noise. Multiple dissonant and chaotic conversations, regarding boys, teachers, grades, food, hair, and other topics, created a constant 90-decibel white noise din. Then several dolphins approached the boat, breaching on either side in close proximity. Seven girls became undistracted and focused for what seemed like seconds until I heard it said, “I’m over dolphins.”
The white noise resumed.
At Morris Island, the seven girls moved off the boat and into the water to swim, chicken fight, and, in general, splash. The noise stayed with them like an electron cloud swirling about its nucleus. Then, as if summonsed simultaneously, all seven girls exited the water and ran away in a flock toward their next distraction. The noise cloud left with them.
A returning boatload of twelve Tennesseans recently boarded the TIDELINE. As I welcomed them back aboard, sheepishly smiling, crew-cut, 10-year-old Neyland said, “Sorry about last year.”
“What happened last year?” I asked.
“I spit on you.”
Oh yea, now I remember. Last year’s spit incident went something like this: Running down Lighthouse Creek toward the inlet at 20 knots with a strong southwest afternoon breeze, young Neyland sat on the starboard side, eagerly watching the water pass the hull. Then he aimed and spit down toward the water. More powerful influences directed the spitball straight past his Dad’s forehead and directly onto my shirt.
Neyland’s expression exposed his guilt immediately.
“Did you just spit on him?!” Dad demanded. Embarrassed beyond words, Neyland grinned uncontrollably, and then shrugged out an, “I’m sorry.”
We threw him overboard and made him swim five miles back to the marina…not really.
Captain Anton DuMars, a coastal geologist and 30-year Folly Beach resident, owns and operates Tideline Tours, LLC. To contact Anton, please call or text 843-813-2497 or visit http://tidelinetours.com.
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