The next day, as were were heading from the Santee River, the terrain was slowly transitioning from salt marsh to real trees. There was an interesting steel boat, a schooner I think, in one of the channels. Clearly an exhausting day.
We were low on ice so we tied up at what was called the Bucksport Marina. This was a funky little place, more campground than marina. No bathrooms or showers of note, but at least they had ice. Without ice civilization breaks down pretty quickly. We were in the middle of nowhere but we had enough of a cell signal to order more Amazon for our arrival in Southport.
The restaurant and bar was open for their first night since hurricane Florence dumped a yard of water on the southeast last fall. The only menu available was so interesting I had to take a picture of it. The "steak" sandwich was made with fried bologna, but maybe that's how things are done in these parts. For me, the "Bag of Dogs" was a little too close to another "bag of" similarly shaped objects in the popular vernacular. Nonetheless, the food was actually pretty good. The local news was covering the reopening, and they actually had a nice little stage set up for music acts later.
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