Weekend on Tybee
TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | MARCH 2018 9
Then came the scream.
“If you ain’t redneck, you ain’t s***!”
I was walking back to a table with a beer, but the screech was straight
out of Jurassic Park. It felt like someone had shoved a broom stick down my
spine at the neck. The kind of wail that stiffens you at attention. He sure had
mine, and he wasn’t even talking to me.
I didn’t really understand what that was all about, but I sat in my corner
nursing a Bud Light watching the bad dancing. Before the weekend was
over, I learned that the saying is something of a ‘mating call’ on the island.
Well, not really, but I can imagine the right lady might just swoon in the
presence of the right man.
It’s Tybee quirk. Anyone will tell you so.
Had a chat with a cute young lady who is a fan of our TV show who actually
thought I was a Food Network Correspondent who lived in New York City and
flew in to feature local restaurants on TV and then flew out. Not a bad gig if
you can get it, I suppose. But Savannah is home. Always will be.
A chilly morning awaited us as we headed out on the Tybee Beach
Ecology Trips. If you enjoy the beach and marine life, you’d be hard pressed
to imagine how many different kinds of sea life you can find in 90 minutes
frolicking along the jetty near the North end of the island. Never mind that
you are standing at the mouth of the Savannah River with South Carolina in
the distance. Dr. Joe is a retired professor from Savannah State University.
He knows his aquaculture.
Armed with nothing but a golf cart and an afternoon’s worth of time to
kill, the Tybee way I imagine, we set out to find whatever trouble we could.
By early afternoon, we popped in on Tybee Island Fish Camp, home of
another memorable dish on the island. Oysters Pulaski. It is their version
of the “Rockefeller.” Oysters are topped with collards, Andouille, bacon,
jalapeno and panko. The dish is an homage to Confederate soldiers who
many times had nothing to eat but greens and bacon in their backpacks.
Named for nearby Fort Pulaski, I’d dare say it is one of the island’s handful
of signature dishes.
A few others you can find at A-J’s Dockside. A long standing island
favorite, even in the winter they find a way to set the scene. I was welcomed
with a Margarona - a giant margarita with a corona mini turned over in it.
We probably ate half our weight in Buffalo Shrimp. If there are any better
on the island, heck in Savannah for that matter, I want to know about them.
Exceptional dish. As were fried shrimp. You will eat it and like it.
Our nightcap took us back to Tybrisa, if for no other reason, my wife had
never been to the Wind Rose Café. Maybe one of a handful of dive bars in
America with a library and video borrowing room in the back. It’s in plain
sight, nothing funky going on back there, but where else along Georgia’s
coast can you get your island on and read Moby Dick at the same time? I’m
not quite sure.
The Wind Rose was our pre-determined last stop for the evening. Don’t
ask me why, but sometimes I’m overcome with joy when I order a shot of
Jameson with my beer. Though I actually had been warned, what I didn’t
count on was a 4-finger shot that looked like a cup of apple juice in front of
me. I’ll be damned if I’m not going to drink it either. Knocked me flat on my
ass. The next day the young lady said, “Yeah, they pour heavy at the Wind
Rose.”
Lort!
I wanted a staycation, I guess I got one.