My Huckleberry Friend

There’s such a lot of world to see
We’re after the same rainbow’s end
Waiting ‘round the bend
My huckleberry friend
Moon River and me

–From “Moon River’ by Johnny Mercer and Henry Mancini

Anxious to get to our next destination and having resolved to return to Beaufort by car or on our return trip, we pulled up the anchor at 0945 the next morning. Bluffton, about 20 nautical miles from Beaufort, was our target for the day. We were finally making way for a major purpose for this boat trip south: Docking on the May River at the home of longtime friends Charlie and Nancy Golson.

Africa

I met Charlie in 1975 in Dakar, the capital of Senegal in French West Africa. We were both newly arrived as Peace Corps volunteers (PCVs). I had transferred from a CARE agricultural development program in Niger and was assigned to a project just outside Dakar. Charlie was there to teach English as a second language at a French bakery school in the city. He was also taking baking classes to augment culinary training he had received in Paris. He aspired to become a professional chef.

Charlie was endlessly funny and entertaining, and we shared numerous adventures and misadventures during my time in Senegal. We became lifelong friends. He also stirred my interest in la cuisine. After the Peace Corps he worked as a chef at several hotels and restaurants and married his longtime sweetheart, Nancy, before opening a French-inspired bistro on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina in 1982. Hilton Head is not far from his hometown, Savannah, Georgia. Charlie’s L’Etoile Verte (The Green Star) became a local institution not only because of Charlie’s extraordinary culinary talents and its daily hand-written menu, but because of his gregarious nature and sense of humor. For that reason, familiars just call the place Charlie’s. Charlie’s has also won national acclaim and awards for its food and for its wine cellar.

Tender Bartender

Charlie and I stayed in touch after the Peace Corps, and I visited whenever I could arrange an editorial trip to the area. My first visit was not long after his restaurant opened. Charlie had a provisional liquor license that limited hard alcohol inventory to airline bottles, and he hadn’t yet hired a bartender. I got recruited to tend bar—a skill I learned during my college years. It was a busy Friday night, and I ended up with blisters on my fingers from twisting the caps off those effing little bottles.

Unexpected Challenges

Charlie and Nancy acquired his parents’ estate—called Mayfair—on an island in the May River just outside Bluffton–midway between Hilton Head and Savannah. They ran the restaurant for 35 years, during which time Nancy also worked as an interior designer and retailer. Despite their busy schedules, they managed to take time off to come to Minnesota—with their kids Margaret and Palmer–for Julie and my wedding in 1987.  

In 2017, Charlie was stricken by a mysterious spinal infection that left him paralyzed from the waist down. Consequently, Margaret and Palmer took over the restaurant. Charlie was in and out of hospitals over the next six years with life threatening infections. Despite the medical trials and tribulations, Charlie never lost his renowned sense of humor. He was also determined to walk again and worked hard to regain mobility. With the help of a physical therapist he called “the Dominatrix,” he was able to get around  aided by a mobility walker. One of his proudest achievements was being able to walk out to the end of their May River dock and back—closely attended by the Dominatrix.

The Mission

In phone calls and during our visits to Mayfair, Charlie lobbied us to sail Gaviidae to South Carolina and tie up to that deep-water dock. “Day-yan,” he would say in his distinctive drawl which broke my shortened name into two syllables, “I want to wake up mornings and see your boat tied to our dawk.” This became the mission for our trip south.

Charlie was a big man with a big personality. I say “was”: Charlie passed away in late September—a couple months before we expected to sail to Bluffton and tie up to his “dawk.” A late-night fall backwards from his walker earlier in the summer broke his frail and beleaguered back. Faced with more surgeries and rehabilitation, Charlie decided to go home and forego more abuse. I flew to Georgia for his memorial service in Savannah in early October, on his 76^th birthday. Nancy and the kids threw a catered birthday party for Charlie at Mayfair after the service. Charlie loved a good party. Both events had huge turnouts.

The “Dawk”

As we approached the Golson dock on Gaviidae in mid-December, we could see Nancy sitting in a chair on shore anticipating our arrival. We had phoned her earlier to clarify the docking situation for us and for the other Gaviidae. Nancy had arranged for Howard and Kerri-Ann to tie their Gaviidae to a neighbor’s pier for our visit.

While Charlie’s health was a primary focus for family and friends, Nancy has also dealt with her own health issues. Cancer and other ailments beset her in recent years—including broken bones in the foot that was crushed by Charlie’s wheelchair a couple years earlier. Ever the trooper and the consummate Southern hostess, Nancy had hobbled down to the dock to welcome us to Mayfair.

Foodie Delights

We stayed four days eating and drinking and sharing stories. While Howard and Kerri-Ann slept aboard their boat, Nancy insisted that Julie and I stay in her guest bedroom. On our first night there, Nancy served up shrimp and grits for dinner—a Southern specialty new to all of us Northerners. On another night, Nancy took us all and some friends of hers out for dinner at Charlie’s L’Etoile Verte. The food there was spectacular.

Howard prepared a superb prime rib dinner one night and on our last afternoon, Nancy bought local oysters which we shucked and ate on the dock. Julie, who is not particularly fond of oysters, proved to be quite adept at shucking them. While we were there, we attended the planting of a Camellia japonica in Charlie’s memory by a Bluffton gardening group in a park. The plant was actually from a cutting of Camellia from Charlie’s garden at Mayfair years ago. Nancy kept us so entertained that we never got back over to Beaufort.

Isle of Hope and Savannah

On Friday, December 20, we cruised 30 nm to Isle of Hope Marina south of Savannah. The next day Charlie’s younger brother, Hugh, gathered the crews of both Gaviidaes and took us on a driving and walking tour of old Savannah. Hugh—who was honored as Teacher of the Year in Georgia twice–had taught high school history in Savannah and generously shared his wealth of knowledge about his storied and beautiful hometown.

Among the things we learned from Hugh was that Isle of Hope is part of an area known as Moon River—made famous in the Johnny Mercer/Henry Mancini paean to friendship and wanderlust. Mercer once lived along the Back River south of Savannah, calling it Moon River in the song. The river was later renamed Moon River in honor of Mercer and his song. I’ll never be able to hear that song again without thinking about our visit to Mayfair, and remembering Charlie, my huckleberry friend.

December 14, 2024 – December  21, 2024 31°58.826’N  081°03.352’W     2255.6 Nautical Miles