Across Winyah Bay lies North Island. Long ago, before NOAA was established, the fishermen relied on their instincts and their knowledge of the changing weather patterns to alert them of storms. On a quiet, clear day bringing loads of shrimp would give no indication that a fierce storm would soon blow in from the ocean. Such a calm day was the setting decades ago when a young boy was hard at work on a shrimp trawler. On this particular afternoon, the great wooden boat was trawling in the ocean just out of sight of North Island. Momentarily alone at his work, concentrating hard on doing it quickly, the boy suddenly jerked his head up as a movement caught his eye. Standing near the boat’s transom was a young girl. The boy was too surprised to speak. Where had she come from? He wanted to say to not stand on the transom or she could fall off but he could not make a sound. Staring hard at him, the girl said, "Go back." She raised the arm that was not holding the doll and pointed toward the jetties. "Go back." When he turned back around from looking for the crewmembers the girl was gone. The boy went and told the captain. They headed back and every boat they passed they told to head back too. But none of the other boats were willing to head back on such a calm day. Later that afternoon there was a storm just like the girl had said. Set back from the golden sand the base of the lighthouse was ghostly pale against the dark trees. The older gentlemen placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and nodded his head toward the lighthouse. "That was her home", he said.
Thus began the captain’s story:
By the end of 1800 a carpenter had finished the lighthouse. In 1806, a terrible storm destroyed the wooden lighthouse. The new lighthouse was operational by 1812. Over the next century, the North Island lighthouse, also known as the Georgetown Light, had a succession of keepers. One lighthouse keeper lived there with his small daughter. The child was a delight to her father, who loved her dearly. One fateful day, just before dawn, the lighthouse keeper and his daughter set out for Georgetown. The girl sat happily in the rowboat holding her favorite rag doll. The pair crossed the bay and arrived in Georgetown. When it was time to return to the lighthouse, the lighthouse keeper felt a bit uneasy about the wind that had come up while they were in town. By the time they were more than three-quarters of the way home, the lighthouse keeper was overcome with exhaustion. The wind grew fierce, as did the water in the bay. Waves began to crash into the little boat, quickly swamping it. When the boat sank, he swam with his little girl tied to his back. The lighthouse keeper, overcome with exhaustion and shock, did not remember the sky growing dark. Neither did he remember crawling up and collapsing on the north shore of South Island, his beloved child still tied firmly to his back. When he awoke early the next morning, his little daughter was dead. She had drowned while her father desperately tried to save their lives.
The boy never forgot his chilling experience, or a word of the captain’s story.
North Island is located on the
Atlantic Ocean at the entrance of Winyah Bay
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