"Under The Tuscan Sun"...With 'Possum...

Operating an historic Inn with more than her fair share of patina requires a real sense of adventure and a very healthy sense of humor. I love the charm and beauty of the old building but, much like me, she requires a whole bunch of upkeep as the years go by. There are wonderful craftsmen and repair services available on the island but things always seem to happen at night or on weekends. Help is available if you really need them but, come on, I know how to use power tools and a drain snake.

To start off my week, I stopped up a drain in the kitchen peeling peaches for home made ice cream. The clog simply would not budge even after Old Man Taylor threw some testosterone and few expletives at the problem. The next morning our plumber removed 6 – count ‘em – 6 ancient cocktail forks from the sink trap. How does one get 6 cocktail forks down the drain and how many years ago did that happen? Well, it boggles the mind. No wonder I couldn’t shake that clog. The plumber just kept laughing and pulling out forks.

Next a thunderstorm knocked out the air conditioning in the staff wing of the building. After my knowledge of HVAC was exhausted, Jeremy, our commercial appliance repair hero, came out on a blistering Friday afternoon to replace a part. Everything seemed to be back to normal on Saturday when one of our friends called me in to look at something down the floor vent in the office. The “something” was looking back. It was the sweetest little baby ‘possum but unfortunately, he was inside the duct. Super- just super. Old Man Taylor was gone and it looked like I was in for a ‘possum rodeo and duct repair. When we were reasonably certain that the little fellow had gone on his way, my sister-in-law and I patched the broken ducts. She was most helpful in holding both the flashlight and my margarita and cheering me on in the basement gloom. I really needed a pal and bartender at that moment and she kept a look out for mama ‘possum . We agreed that it was probably the first time in our lives that we had ever used duct tape on an actual duct.

Somehow all this seemed more romantic when Diane Lane did it.

August 2010 Update

Many of you have asked if The Pelican Inn has an official website. We're happy to report  pawleyspelican.com is officially up and running. Head on over and let us know what you think!

Also, we are currently accepting reservations for the 2011 summer season. Flip us an email with your availability requests.

Enjoy these last weeks of summer!

The Pelican Inn in the News & Happy Birthday Corinne

Today is Corinne's birthday.
Although not intended as a birthday present, yesterday's edition of the Emory Report included a feature on Corinne and the Pelican Inn. You can read the article online here to learn a little more about the birthday girl and her love for the inn.
Oh, and happy birthday!

The Right Kind of Crabbing

It's a wonder that crabs come anywhere near our dock. The constant thunder of bare feet up and down would surely deter the hungriest crab. The draw of the crab trap is a magical thing though. As soon as the smell of pluff mud reaches their nostrils, my kids cast aside the ipods and texting for another obsession: hauling in crabs. It is the first move of the day when still in pajamas, they drag in the trap to see what scuttled in during the night. It is also the final pass before bedtime when they hang over the water with flashlights and hope for some "keepers" to delay bedtime for boiling.

I am truly fortunate that the older kids, Emma and her friend Colin, enjoy picking out the crab meat. They sit on old stools at the big kitchen sinks, crank up the music, and pick crabs for hours while they cut up and enjoy the marsh view. Old Man Taylor's crab cakes are legendary

and crab cake night is the high point of our culinary week. Fresh crab cakes, "cold" slaw, corn muffins, and Bud-out-of-the-bottle...I'd better go get some more chicken necks for bait.

The big blond crab in the net is Colin. I think he's a keeper.

A little more on what's in store

As summer nears we have received several inquiries regarding availability and our plans for the Inn.  We are running it as a bed and breakfast, and aim to continue the charming, hospitable tradition of the Pelican Inn that so many families, including our own, fell in love with many years ago. We do have availability a few weeks this summer and would love to accommodate you—just send us a note: pawleyspelican@gmail.com.

Updated (5/26): currently, our first availabilities are in August

The Taylor family will constitute the staff, including my two younger sisters, Emma and Caroline, who couldn’t dream of a better summer job. Breakfast and midday dinner will be served each day to our guests. Corinne (Mama Taylor) may be modest about the simple Southern cooking we will serve--she told the Coastal Observer it was “nothing special”--but we in her family look forward to her cooking every day. She even spent several months meticulously perfecting her biscuit recipe in preparation for running the Inn’s kitchen, and we were lucky enough to be her guinea pigs.

We’d love to hear from past guests of the Pelican, as well as new friends. Please email us with any feedback or questions.

Looking forward to meeting you!

-The Taylor Family

Virgil the Innkeeper

Last month we brought our basset hound, Virgil, to the Pelican Inn for his first trip to the beach. He is a loyal and affectionate dog whose male companionship is greatly appreciated by our father, who would be the only man in our family if not for Virg.

We were excited to give the hound his first taste of sand and ocean, and he happily followed Emma along on the boardwalk to the beach—until he encountered the sand and saw the water in front of him. While everyone else walked down towards the ocean, Virgil quickly scampered back up the boardwalk stairs to the house. He did not like what he saw. 

  

 Virgil's first impression of the ocean had him running back to the safety of the Inn's front porch

While initially amusing, we feared that Virgil’s distaste for the ocean would be the unforeseen kink in our plans for the Inn. We sisters grew up loving the ocean and sand for swimming and sandcastles--things Virgil probably wouldn’t come around to. But we also loved the beach because Dad loved it. He had showed us how activities that were usually unremarkable (sitting and thinking, walking, etc) became remarkable when done at the beach. We hoped Virgil, as Dad's only boy, would learn this, too.

The next morning, Virgil gave the beach a second chance to impress him--and it did. Dad proudly reported that his dog ran and ran and ran, and even let the ocean get him a bit wet. Despite assumptions that this venture would leave Virgil tuckered out for the rest of the day, he wore me out later that afternoon trying to keep up with him. And I run marathons. 

I suppose we weren’t too surprised how quickly the dog came around—as a member of the Taylor family, love for the beach is probably in his blood.

Our First Guests...

Caroline, my 10 year old, and I were enjoying the spectacular wildlife of Pawley’s Island. She called me out to watch a beautiful pair of Bald Eagles fish off of the dock. We caught fat blue crabs and anything else careless enough to get in the crab trap. We noted muddy raccoon tracks all over the dock and traced the footsteps all the way up to –oh great! – our house.

That night, Caroline and I were awakened at about 1:00AM by what sounded like a massive cat fight under our bed. The racket was coming from under the floor near the air conditioning vent. After a few minutes I decided that mother raccoon must have gone out for her nocturnal feeding and her babies were squabbling in her absence. Caroline rolled over and went back to sleep with the complete confidence that mama would take care of the interruption. However, the party continued until about 5:00AM.

The next morning we visited our friends at the hardware store and acquired a Have-a-heart trap and a can of sardines. No luck. On day 3 of the siege my husband arrived. After old man Taylor was jolted out of bed by the ruckus, he finally admitted that I was not just hearing “wind off the marsh”; Enter Paul from Nuisance Wildlife.

After a meticulous inspection that revealed no evidence of raccoon, Paul began examining the duct work with this contraption that looked like a colonoscope. We were pondering the scope when Emma yelped, “Oh snap! Got your raccoon right here!” The raccoon was sitting there fat and sassy watching us search for him. Paul caught the critter, determined that it was a male and escorted him off the island. After another night of raccoon domestic discord, Paul returned the next day to evict the rest of the family.

Paul told us that the raccoons like to nest under the houses in early spring and that spring break always brings the busy season for Nuisance Wildlife. “Wind off the marsh” my fanny.

Corinne Taylor

Beach Eats: Frogmore Stew

For as long as I can remember, our family trips to Pawleys have included a Frogmore Stew Night, which I have looked forward to almost as much as Trivial Pursuit & Pie Night, Crab Cake Night and (now that I'm a "grown up") Hearts & Manhattans Night.

If you are not familiar with this South Carolina tradition, let me first inform you that there are no frogs in this stew and, well, it's not really a stew.

Consisting of sausage, shrimp, corn on the cob, and sometimes red potatoes, this low country boil is not only delicious but also fun to eat. The "stew" is dumped in the middle of the dinner table, which is covered in newspapers, and everyone grabs as much of everything that can fit on a plate. Cocktail sauce is served for the shrimp, but if you're eating with my family take heed--Emma & I have been know to mix in extra horseradish when the parents aren't looking!

Once the feeding is underway, empty shells and cornless cobs are thrown back onto the table to make room on plates for seconds and thirds. Unless, of course, the promise of a delicious dessert encourages you to practice moderation.

I've cooked Frogmore Stew at home and found that while it's always tasty, some of the charm is lost when it's eaten in a civilized manner in a land-locked state. As if I needed another reason to return to the beach.

Don't have your own Frogmore Stew recipe? The Beaufort County Library has several versions, as well as a brief history of the dish. Cooking it while at Pawleys? Let us recommend the Pawleys Island Seafood Market on 10517 Ocean Highway for your shrimp.

Things we love about Pawleys: the rope hammock

One of my favorite things to do on vacation is nothing at all. That is to say, I love to relax. I have yet to find an invention more conducive of pure relaxation than the Pawleys Island rope hammock. This ingenious creation was meticulously designed in the late 1800s by riverboat captain and Pawleys resident Joshua John Ward, who found traditional mattresses and canvas hammocks too warm to be comfortable in the heat of summer. 

If you ask most people why a rope hammock is the perfect place to relax they will tout the benefits of the double-latch weave, which encourages the cotton rope to meld to your body and creates a personalized support system. Another common answer is the calming properties of the gentle sway in the breeze. But there’s another factor that is often overlooked. 

Compared to a lounge chair or rocking chair, the hammock requires a bit of effort to climb into and situate oneself properly (particularly with a friend or two). Once your limbs are balanced, your butt is properly placed, and your head has hit the hammock pillow, you joyfully find that the hammock is perfectly enveloping you, and there is little urge to disrupt the perfection. Why even bother picking up that book? The obvious and inevitable choice is to simply lie there, perhaps daydreaming, until you wake up from an unplanned nap.

This has happened to most of us who’ve visited Pawleys, and our experience has taught us that when friends or fathers go missing for a few hours, the first place to look for them is the trusty weathered rope hammock.

You can visit the Original Hammock Shop on 10880 Ocean Highway to watch the hammock weaving process, which has not changed much over time.

The P.C.J. Weston House

There is a rich history behind Pawleys Island and the Pelican Inn. For this post, we will focus on the origins and architecture of the Pelican Inn itself. 

Originally built as the summer house for Plowden Charles Jenrette Weston of Hagley Plantation in the late 1840s, the architecture of the Inn is representative of the majority of the island’s original houses.Houses were often made of cypress lumber, as was Weston’s, and utilized wooden pegs, mortise, tenon joints, and hand cut nails. They sat atop high brick foundations, which protected against high tides.

The Joseph Blyth Allston House

 

Families came to Pawleys for their summer retreats during the May-November months, so doors, windows and piazzas were carefully designed to maximize ventilation and utilize ocean breezes to cool the houses. Breezeways at the rear of the houses led to the kitchens. Servants’ quarters, usually two-room cabins with fireplaces, were located on the grounds. Boardwalks extended both into the creek and over the dunes.

The dunes have protected structures against coastal storms, but a more effective buffer is the live oaks. The Pelican Inn has the advantage of not only sitting behind the highest dunes on the island, but also benefits from the protection of a small “forest” of live oaks that stand between the Inn and the dunes and line the boardwalk to the beach. 

 Live oaks lining the boardwalk at the Pelican Inn

This has spared the structure from serious damage from storms that destroyed other houses on the island, including Hurricanes Hazel (1954) and Hugo (1989). Of course, it is said that if you heed the Gray Man’s advice your house and family will be safe, but more on that later…

Let us introduce ourselves

This is the Pelican Inn and we are the Taylor Family.

We've enjoyed many slow, relaxing summers on Pawleys Island, but none of us have seen the history that this building has known.

Our family is thrilled to continue the Pelican Inn's tradition of Southern hospitality in the "arrogantly shabby" way that makes Pawleys so special.

We would love to hear your favorite memories from the Inn and hear why it has been a special place to you and your family.

Check back often for updates regarding the Inn and Pawleys Island. We look forward to becoming acquainted!

Best,
Bruce, Corinne, Emma, Caroline & Kelly