Sign of God?

As a youth, I was always drawn to an embroidered message which hung on the wall of my church sanctuary: “The Sign of God is that you will be led where you did not intend to go.”

I still see the wisdom in that as I navigate my golden years.

Take yesterday, for example. The missus and I decided to celebrate our 36th wedding anniversary by taking a drive to the historic harbor town of Georgetown, SC. Situated about midway between Myrtle Beach and Charleston, Georgetown was on the route we took to visit the Holy City once.

But apart from the delightful views as we crossed the mighty Waccamaw River into the town, there was nothing especially remarkable about it. We had to go through it to get where we wanted to go, that’s all.

But it’s a destination now, and all because of serendipitous visit to a magical pub. The place we’d intended to visit for our anniversary dinner didn’t open until 5 PM, so we had some time to stroll about the town, to walk along the quay called the Harbor Walk and to get the lay of the land.

It was 97º, so finding a shady—preferably air-conditioned—spot on the Harbor Walk seemed a necessary goal. First bar we came to was shady, but outdoors, so no go. Second bar was the back of the Big Tuna. It was rustic, weathered and ramshackle, but charmingly so, as though it were designed to be.

It had outside seating too, but when Hanna came to seat us, she said the bar inside was “a bit crowded,” so she could seat us on enclosed shady porch, which was somewhat cool, so we took a table.

But as those of us men in our golden years know all too well, you never pass up a bathroom, especially when you’re planning to refill your bladder with beer. So I got directions to the loo inside, which required going into the bar.

The bar was small, rustic and weathered with a very welcoming, comfortable ambience and the good natured chatter of happy customers.

And it was totally air-conditioned. And that’s when the sign from my church flashed into my head. Noticing that two seats had become available at the bar, I quickly ran out to gather up the missus and transport her to where God had led us.

We were just going to have a drink to wait for the the “real” place to open, but we figured we could do with a shared appetizer. So affable Amanda (above) delivered me a Huger St. IPA and took our first order for shrimp cocktail. They were so good, we got another.

I had a chance to look around the bar where God had sent me, and it was a veritable museum of genuine weathered artifacts—including an inverted boat hanging from the ceiling. Like the boards that lined the ceiling and walls, it had been pulled from the muck of the harbor by owner Bucky Watkins, who happened to be standing behind me.

He was chatting with some gents while allowing them to meet his sidekick of 27 years, a gorgeous large colorful parrot named Sassy. Watkins confided that Sassy’s name is well-earned as she often lets fly with a a barrage of ill-timed F-bombs, causing a mixture of red faces and laughter from all within earshot. Hey, God led me to her, so….

The building had been there since 1819, and the adjacent wing used for private parties, etc., since 1820, so it saw some momentous things, especially during the Civil War. Georgetown was a major lumber producer, churning out one million board/feet PER DAY at its peak, according to Watkins, who took us on a private tour.

Besides the captivating ambience of the place and the down-home friendliness of its owner, the Big Tuna staff was especially delightful. Friendly, lovely, efficient and VERY tightly-knit, every member of the team told us that they LOVED working there, even when “things get a little crazy on Friday or Saturday nights--and even on Sundays.”

I could only imagine. But as the place where we originally came to Georgetown to celebrate our anniversary was now open, we had to say farewell to Watkins, Hanna, Emma, Frazier, Amanda and Sassy and the magical, historic, former apothecary shop they inhabit.

Had I investigated Big Tuna instead of the place I did (which had great Shrimp and Grits, but nowhere near the ambience), we’d have probably opted to celebrate our anniversary at the Old Fish House/Big Tuna.

But rest assured we’ll be back. Especially with a sign in the window that says, “Bikers Welcome.” Hey, you gotta have guys like us who can talk back to Sassy in a language she understands.

Cheers!

The Original PubScout--immersed in the craft beer scene since 1996

As always, feel free to share!