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Cold In The Low Country

Hi Ya'll,

January 5, 2010

With the exception of the Yankee tourist dollars, it seems like most of the bad things in Savannah come from the north.   In 1864, it was William Tecumseh Sherman.   About the same time of year in 2010, it was several days of sustained below freezing weather, dropping the ambient air temperatures down into the very low 20s Fahrenheit.   The kind of air that when inhaled too quickly, would lead you into a coughing spasm that was painful but short.   Leaving California to escape the cold seemed a failed strategy as I daily faced a frozen Savannah, and longingly noted via internet the temperatures in the mid 40s in San Jose CA, where I had come from.   Under normal circumstances, I would turn my nose up at those San Jose temps in the 40s, but by comparison to Savannah, they looked positively balmy.

It was beautiful overall.   You could see for miles, that is if your eyes weren't as tired as mine from age, astigmatism and impending cataracts.   The days were bitter cold and exceeding crisp, as the freezing temperatures seemingly wrung all the moisture out of the air, like a military jet plane at near supersonic speeds squeezes the moisture out of the air at the leading edge of the wing.   And that's when the wind wasn't blowing.   Unable to spend extended periods of time outdoors, I was relegated to bursts of activity outside and then retreating back inside Ketch 22 to the safety of the heated below decks area.   Long underwear was the dress code of the day, all of the days, when the temps were below freezing.   Even the wildlife was affected.   The local flock of egrets hung around in their tree roost until near noon, as it wasn't until near noon that the temps rose to a level that they were apparently willing to tolerate.   The dolphins normally spending extended periods surfacing around the docks, using them to herd schools of fish for dining purpose, were staying underwater and out of sight.

The contrast from a year prior when I was aboard Ketch 22 in Golfito Costa Rica could hardly have been more stark.   The dress code there was shorts, t-shirt and sandals, all day, every day.   Just getting all the winter clothes on in the Savannah mornings was roughly the equivalent of a half day's labor in Golfito where I developed the proprietary 'Golfito Shuffle' so as not to expend too much energy getting from place to place in town.   The 'Shuffle', took me to the shady side of the street at a measured and sedate pace that maximized the distance traveled while minimizing the energy expenditure.   The Savannah cold drove me to the opposite extreme, on the sunny side of the street at a brisk pace to keep my blood flow adequate to the task of warming my extremities and keeping the core body temperature at a level sufficient to keep the brain operational.

It will not, even in an era of 'Global Warming?' last much longer.   I'll leave for warmer climes!

tm