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PostPosted: May 1st, 2023, 1:10 pm 
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Joined: June 28th, 2001, 7:00 pm
Posts: 2900
Location: Freeland, Maryland USA
I was talking with a friend about the recent discovery of a dugout canoe found in Lake Waccamaw NC. Lake Waccamaw is a 9000 acre Carolina Bay Lake, aka Delmarva Bay/Pocosin Pond; large or small those bay lakes are fascinating in their own peculiar ways. And abundance.

The number of Carolina Bays wasn’t fully appreciated until the early days of aviation, when pilots looked down while flying over the coastal plain and realized “Jeeze Louise, those shapes are everydamnwhere”.

https://science.howstuffworks.com/envir ... a-bays.htm

Carolina Bays typically have the same elliptical shape oriented NW/SE, often with a white sand beach at one end. Think a half million of them scattered along the eastern coastal plain.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carolina_bays

Because of the peaty water dugouts are not a rare find in large Carolina Bays. Lake Phelps alone has revealed 30.

https://archaeology.ncdcr.gov/get-invol ... helps-lake

Now to the reminded story, which does have to do with logs, though not dugouts. Pettigrew State Park is on Lake Phelps, adjacent to a historic plantation mansion with slave quarters. On a two-family Carolinas meander we stopped to camp and paddle at Pettigrew; 1600 acre bay lake, 13 campsite park.

We picked out two prime sites, registered and paid at the office, set up and settled in. The park was otherwise empty, until an RV cruised through, stopping briefly to stare at us and continued around the loop.

A half hour later the RV returned, accompanied by a park ranger who said “I hate to ask you this, but these folks have been coming here for years and always stayed on site #7. Would y’all mind moving to another site?” And, more quietly aside, “I’ll bring you a load of firewood”

#7 was the nicest site, but it was older couple who looked sheepish the ranger even asked, and it was going to be a chilly night. A load of firewood sounded like a fair trade; we moved camp. Good to his word the ranger brought us a load of firewood.

Green unsplit logs, cut days before. Pondering the situation, we remembered that 50 yards up a trail from our new site was the recreated slave quarters cabin. A slave quarters cabin with a cord of well-seasoned split firewood stacked out front as in olden times.

It was a short cord when we were done.


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