The Magic of August
Many Augusts ago, a friend and I sat sweltering on a breezeless porch staring out across a waveless ocean. He broke a long silence and proclaimed that August was “magical.” The word “magical” came out as a Spicoli-like smirking, stoned whisper … magical. At that moment, August forever changed.
Prior to hearing this, August’s arrival meant summer’s bright light began to dim. It meant we soon returned to school. It meant winter approached as days got shorter. It meant that before long, we collectively went back to work and started doing serious and/or important stuff. All of these things eventually happen, but in the meantime, August’s magic shows some color.
By August, the Atlantic Ocean swells with energy. In August, sea temperatures off of Folly Beach reach their annual peak. By August, spring hatchlings approach maturity and thrive among a bustling, food-rich saltmarsh.
In August, schools of large mullet swim along the sandy inlets and pluffmud banks, prompting bottlenose dolphin to drive them ashore in a coordinated effort known as strand feeding. In August, Jellyfish stings become more frequent. Large spotted eagle rays jump from the water. Rumor has it that massive hammerhead sharks swim just offshore in August.
In August, the specter of past hurricanes begins to haunt our thoughts. We cast wary eyes to the tropics while quietly gathering spare batteries, lantern mantles, and propane bottles.
I remember one August day drift-fishing a couple of miles offshore. Lazy ocean swells rhythmically passed under us. Folly Beach lay shoreward as a strand of low-lying nondescript angular features. Nothing mattered. That particular August day was magical.
Captain Anton DuMars, a coastal geologist and long-time Folly Beach resident. Contact Anton at sailspartina@gmail.com.
