Nighttime In Tybee -Part 2

My affinity with morning goes back to when I was a kid, maybe.  We were sleeping out, maybe at Sponsler's and I woke up just before the sun came out and I was mesmerized by the sky.  I could see everything millions of miles away.  The dampness of dew,  a young mind imagining the endlessness of space.  The clarity of the stars.  Was I the only one up witnessing this spectacular view.  Young eyes looking at the vastness of space, all the stars and I'm sure I thought it was the neatest time of day: when you could see two worlds, so to speak.  Of course, the solitude and quiet of morning suits my personality, too.  Like I said a few days ago, it's like cheating, you get a head start on everyone else.  Time to do whatever needs done without rushing, without frantic clock-watching.  

So here I am, on Tybee Island, magic box in hand, with a whole ocean in front of me, a lighthouse in the back, and a quiet solitude that washes over me.  It is one of those rare perfect times.  To think, to witness, to step back and see a wondrous thing: sunrise over the Atlantic, a new place, new smells. 

But before that happens, let's take another picture of my surroundings.  That's the Beach Grille in the back, it's parking lot, and I am standing on the wooden walkway to the beach.  The red light in the back is atop the water tower.  I'm not real sure what it's configuration is, but it is not a single light perched on top like you would expect, but a larger, longer kind of thing that serves an unknown purpose to me.  

And now the coming of a new day.

This is Fort Screven, just next to the Beach Grille, and serves as a museum for Tybee Island.  Paying one's fees for the lighthouse gets you free admission to the museum and Jeff and I took advantage of the opportunity.  Tybee citizens can be proud of their museum, they have down a nice job.     

Fort Screven was one of four coastal battery forts built on Tybee in 1887 for the defense of Savannah.  They were built during the Spanish-American War and were finished just before the end of those hostilities.  Some of the guns would be removed and shipped overseas during WWI.  By 1924 it ceased to be an artillery outpost and was ceded to the city at the end of World War II.  During the second war it was used primarily as a deep sea diving training school to aide in damaged ports and harbors.

This is the warm and welcoming home of the Sutor's.  Like many houses in Tybee it is built on blocks, or stilts, to insure it's safety in blows.  But Tybee is one of those lucky places along the East Coast.  It hasn't taken a direct hit from a Category 3 or more hurricane since 1893.  

Besides, no storm is going to encroach on you guys with those two vicious hounds patrolling the perimeter.  

Lily and Teddi in Time-out.  

We left Tybee after a great breakfast at the Breakfast Club.  Open only a few hours this is the place to go but be prepared to wait to get in. The line can stretch quite a ways on Sundays, and like Carville said, kind of, "…it's the food, dummy."  The decor is, well, Mid-50's Seaton, and the patrons don't put on any airs.  Flip-flops, sunglasses turned around so they are perched on the back of the head rather than to the front, and well, you get the idea.  Just a "down-home" kind of place that serves great food.  

We would head out in a little while, head South to Florida and be home by mid afternoon, full of great memories and a plan to return soon.  Savannah + Tybee + The Sutors = A great Time.