Cumberland Island National Seashore

Walking from the forest through dunes to shore

On our journey south in December, we were in a bit of a hurry, and so we bypassed the Cumberland Island National Seashore, a huge oversight!  I have visited lots of national parks and I have a long list of those that I hope yet to visit, but somehow this park had escaped my attention altogether before last fall coming down the ICW.  For the most part, Cumberland National Seashore is a marvelous national park and I’ll elaborate on that “most part” later.  

Northern Star is to the upper right part of photo.

Cumberland Island is one of the barrier islands in Georgia, in fact the very last one before the Florida border.  To get here, one must either ride on a park service ferry from the little town of St. Mary’s where the National Park Museum is located, or board a huge tourism boat from Fernandina Beach, FL, or come on one’s own boat and anchor in the river.  We opted for the last means of transportation, naturally.  

The decadence of one enormous live oak tree.  It MUST be climbed!

Campers may stay for up to one week on the island, in the midst of this live oak forest with palmetto forest floor.  Beautiful!  Many visitors come for the day, to walk the trails, beaches, salt marshes, or bicycle around the island.  There are no paved roads and only park service vehicles.

Bikes helped us cover a lot of ground.

The island’s history is long and rich.  The first known residents, the heavily tattooed Timucuan Indians were introduced reluctantly to white man’s religion via a Spanish garrison and Jesuit mission built here in 1569 but it did not go over well with the natives and so the Spanish abandoned the effort only three years later.  Later, Spain and England quarreled over ownership of the island for 100 years; there was a Spanish fort here and an English fort.  Land was gifted as a reward to Revolutionary War heroes. Cotton plantations were built with slave labor (Eli Whitney promoted his cotton gin from here, unsuccessfully). 

Spanish soldier's helmet

In 1900, Thomas Carnegie, brother of Andrew, bought a huge portion of the island.  On the island he built a family home which ultimately grew to be a 37,000 square foot house called Dungeness, complete with a large heated swimming pool, squash courts, steam room, a hunting lodge, and so on.   A remarkable place.  

Dungeness facing the water

To provide services and food for the Carnegie family of 9 children and the steady stream of upper crust visitors and statesmen visiting here, a workforce of 300 black and white servants and skilled laborers was required, which brought an entire village into existence. Huge dormitories were built to house them.   The village of course, was situated just out of sight of the main estate.

Dungeness facing the forest 

The Dungeness we see today, is a skeleton of the mansion which was destroyed by fire in 1978.  Only a few of the 40 other buildings that once comprised the Dungeness estate still stand, but foundations of many more are there.  

Tabby, uses shell, not gravel.

Structures are often made of tabby, a combination of limestone, shells and concrete.  I found the foundation of the Dungeness dairy which appeared to accommodate at least 28, maybe 32 milking cows.  (Yes, I am a dairy farmer’s daughter).  It is hard in these times to conceive of such wealth as is evident here.  The Carnegies’ polo grounds and kenneled hunting dogs could only be fully appreciated with their many affluent friends staying with them for a week or two, thus, I suppose, the “need” for the 37,000 square foot house.  (The upper crust folks probably don’t like to share bedrooms, even with other upper crust folks.)  

Dungeness pergola.  Beyond is the polo field.

Fast forward to late 1900’s; a developer bought up much of the island with plans to build a “Hilton Head South.”  The descendants of the Carnegies, in their own generous mansions scattered farther north on the island, got together to thwart that effort.  They all donated their lands for a national park, and the Hilton Head concept was squelched.  Thus, the entire island, save for a few palatial homes still occupied by the Carnegie descendants, is a national park with no town, and no services of any kind.  It is once again, a mostly natural maritime forest.  

Surprised to see how hairy he is underneath that shell.

I met my first armadillo here.  Quirky little fellows through no fault of their own.  I would have loved to see one roll himself into a ball to see whether Jax would play with it.  Wild hogs still occupy the island, and we did NOT see any of those, which was fine with me.  There are six wild hog hunts each year to knock back the population explosion of pork on the hoof.  

There are about 150 horses living on Cumberland Island

And, there are wild horses.  Unlike Assateague Island where the wild horse population is managed by rounding up a number of them each year to remove from the island, Cumberland Island NPS has to respect the intentions of the donors of the horses, the Carnegies, who simply turned them loose many, many years ago.  

Note Whitey's ribs.

Tourists enjoy seeing the horses.  I admit, I enjoy seeing horses whenever I can as well.  But these horses have been sharing the same gene pool for generations and a maritime forest floor is not an ideal place to find good foraging for a horse.  Only 20% of the colts survive, the lone park service volunteer told us.  The horses are indeed wild—and are treated as such.  They do what they will on the island; horses rip the grasses off close to the ground (which certainly makes it appear as though the grounds around the buildings have been mowed) and make trails through the forest, dunes and salt marshes to get to what little fresh water is available.  

Ill-tempered wild horses

I am not an animal rights activist or anything nearly so strident as that, but I did have horses growing up and these horses do not look well to me.  Their ribs are visible and their coats lack the lustre of good health.  In short, I found myself sad to find that they are here, abandoned to fend for themselves in a fairly hostile (to horses) environment.   Perhaps this environment lends itself to short-tempered horses, sharing a finite space with too many herbivores vying for the limited food.  Maybe female horses get into “cat fights” just like junior high girls do, maybe they get kicked in the head too many times which has gotta raise the likelihood of horse concussion and consequently, poor horse judgment.  

Truce?

Whatever the reason, the two females that we witnessed fighting reminded me of an Animal Planet episode.  And it did end with the white one getting a good strong kick to the head.  We could hear the “chukunk” of the hoof making contact with the skull from 30 yards away.   Whitey didn’t pester the brown horse after that.  Probably still seeing stars.

Salt marshes.

Yes, the horses are pretty (especially, from a distance, and I suppose if one doesn’t know what a healthy horse looks like) and it is novel and interesting to find them roaming wild here.  But they don’t belong here.  We (humans) domesticated them, and now I think we ought to care for them properly.  A horse oughta have enough in his belly that he can afford to stand around lazily in the shade and swish the flies away on a hot day—not walk around hungry, constantly looking for that elusive bit of green food.  And enough fresh water to drink, not salty brackish water.  There, I said it.  

Wherever grass grows, it has been overgrazed by the hungry horses. 

If the horses were gone, or at least the population significantly diminished, the Cumberland Island National Seashore would be an even more marvelous natural maritime forest for us all to enjoy.

Vero Beach AKA Velcro Beach

I can’t believe I’m saying this.  I— LIKE—VERO—BEACH!

Neighborhood next to the Vero Beach City Marina

If I were to actually live (on land, I mean) in Florida, I have decided that it would have to be someplace with at least one Live Oak tree in my yard.  And if one, then why not several? Now that I’ve seen entire neighborhoods in which the Live Oaks play a major role, I cannot conceive of any reason to live in Florida without these unruly giants nearby.  

Live Oak tree limb bent low

We’ve been here in Vero Beach for two weeks (waiting for our weather window) and I still cannot walk through the area without gawking up at the trees as I go.  Old, gnarly and gangly limbs twisting this way and that, and frequently bowing so low as to nearly touch the ground.  Perhaps many would have, if not trimmed by some misguided soul who wanted to mow the grass.

Spanish Moss

Anyone who has ever seen a Live Oak tree has seen that dusty blue-green tinsel of Spanish Moss hanging from them.  I was introduced to Live Oak trees in the same way that many Minnesotan children of my generation were— at the movies, in “Gone With the Wind.”  I remember thinking that the Spanish Moss was part of the Live Oak tree.  Of course, it is not, but rather an epiphyte, a plant that takes its’ nourishment from the air rather than soil.  It is an entirely independent plant from the Live Oak and does no harm to the tree. 

Voluntary Orchid on Live Oak tree.

Other flowering plants of one kind or another also live on these Live Oaks including orchids!  On the grounds of the Vero Beach City Marina, there are more Live Oak trees than any other species!   Yes, there are palm trees, and a few Strangling Fig trees (which I will talk about more in a minute) but it’s the Live Oaks that are the show stoppers.  

Plant life growing on the Live Oaks

I learned today that the land on which the neighboring elementary school sits has the last piece of natural forest remaining on this barrier island between the Indian River and the Atlantic Ocean.  

The palm tree inside the Strangling Fig is all but hidden from view.

The Strangling Fig tree.  I was doing my usual “tree gawking” while waiting for my husband outside the bath facilities when I latched onto an unsuspecting gentleman walking past who looked as if he might know a thing or two.  Indeed he did.  The Strangling Fig wraps itself around another tree and ultimately envelops it until the tree within is all but hidden from view.  

These little lizards move fast--hard to catch them.

As the Strangling Fig establishes itself, it sends down epiphytic roots from upper limbs which eventually reach the ground and may take root in soil.  The knowledgeable gentleman also pointed out the small berries on the tree which are edible.  Not especially flavorful but nevertheless a source of nutrition for Native peoples on the coast.  He knew somebody that had cut the berries with some other fruit and made jelly with it. I discovered that the Strangling Fig tree is a predictable place to find little olive green lizards darting around, up and down the sides.

I never tire of the variety of plant life.

Live Oaks notwithstanding, in the sailing community, Vero Beach is known as a desirable place to spend time waiting to cross to the Bahamas.  I can understand where the nickname, “velcro” comes from.  The marina has an enormous mooring field and the nightly fee for a mooring ball is only $13!  Best deal we’ve come across anywhere!   There are more people living aboard here than we’ve seen anywhere, consequently there is a lot of dinghy traffic back and forth to shore and a lot of traffic between the boats, as well.  Meeting for morning coffee, to discuss the upcoming crossing or for sundowner drinks.  At dusk, somebody or other always blows a baritone conch shell, followed by another conch shell in more of a tenor range. 

More plant life on Life Oaks.

The marina has comfortable shower facilities, and is the only marina laundry we have come across with lots of both washers and dryers.  Reasonably priced as well.  The largest and nicest dog park I have ever seen is next door.  With upwards of 30 dogs or more there at one time, we have remarked to each other about how cheerful the dogs tend to be in that large space; and how well-mannered their two legged partners are as well.  

The beach on Vero Beach.

Within walking distance of the marina are beautiful beaches, a number of restaurants,  a very nice Art Museum in the park and the coup de grace—a bus stop at the dinghy dock.  We can dinghy to the dinghy dock, walk 100’ and get on a free city bus that takes us to a grocery store, West Marine, dive shop, Home Depot, Walgreens or any other store one might need in the city, all free!   Not to mention the free view of the forest of Live Oak trees!

Marina grounds

The weather window as predicted for this coming weekend seems to be holding firm for now.  The weather models predict a good opportunity to cross the Gulf Stream on Friday through Saturday.   Thus, time to peel away from Velcro Beach and move on down to West Palm Beach to be ready for the jump.  Fingers crossed that all remains good for a calm crossing.  

Speaking of "jumps".  Jax is the master of that.