The Ultimate Houseboat: April, 1986
by Paul “Ultimate Houseboat Crew Member” deVere
On a slow news weekend in April, 1986, the entire world had a chance to watch a 7,000 square foot Southern “beach cottage” float up the Intracoastal Waterway between St. Simon’s Island, Georgia and Daufuskie Island, South Carolina. All the major television networks covered the journey. Images of the “ultimate houseboat” were seen on television as far away as Japan. WLOW, a local Hilton Head Island radio station and National Public Radio aired several live broadcasts from one of the “writers-on-board” while the Strachan Mansion was “at sea.”
The images of moving a charming 76-year-old, 300 ton house, in one piece, 100 miles up the Intracoastal Waterway, caught the fancy of program directors the world over, thanks to the foresight of Glen McCaskey who, as an account executive for Haig Point’s ad agency, came up with the idea.
For Haig Point, it was a promoter’s dream. It provided substance to Haig Point’s declaration that the community intended to preserve a way of life that defined Haig Point and Daufuskie Island. The restored lighthouse was a prime example of those intentions, as were the archaeological dig and preservation of the tabby ruins on the property. Restoration of the Strachan Mansion – and the trouble it took to get it to Haig Point – would definitely put another gold star on the community”s report card.
On a more practical level, the move also countered the worry some potential property owners had about getting goods and services to Haig Point. The semi-official line was: “If we can do this (move the Strachan Mansion), we shouldn’t have a problem with your baby grand.”
Finally, there was already a line item in the budget for building a 7,000 square foot welcome center at Haig Point that would have ended up looking something like the Strachan Mansion. The cost of the house itself (one dollar to anyone who could cart it off), the move and restoration was about half what a new building would cost.
But that late April morning on St. Simons Island, as the Strachan Mansion was gracefully placed on two barges lashed together (creating a platform the length of half a football field), all these good and practical intentions were best summed up by restoration architect Bill Phillips. In reference to building a new welcome center at Haig Point, he commented, “It was like some greater force intervened and said, ‘Hey, we’ve already got one of those done, why do another one?’ ” And about the Strachan Mansion itself, “Any time you can get an old building like this, with it”s history, that is alive and can keep it from dying, I think that’s fantastic.”
As the “crew” boarded “the ultimate houseboat.” as the media dubbed what was originally the summer retreat of J.S. Strachan, a Savannah shipping magnate, the magnitude of the project hit each one of us differently. The tides, the weather, shifting sand bars along the Waterway, the speed of our journey. All had been taken into account. All had to come off perfectly.
Phillips was on board to make sure everything was secure. Jerry Phillips, his brother and the engineer who had confirmed the house”s structural integrity, walked around the empty rooms a bit nervously. It had all worked out fine on paper. But this was the real thing.
The two other crew members were just along for the ride. Author William (“Southern Fried”) Price Fox was there for inspiration and conversation. I was there to write stories and help with radio interviews. I was also there just for the fun of it.
Our send off at St. Simon’s was like the launch of a new ship. The U.S. Coast Guard had a cutter in front of us and a helicopter hovering overhead. The crowd on the St. Simon bridge, four deep, were cheering us on. The Coast Guard was there for a reason. While the weather was beautiful and the tide high (both essential to our journey), the lashed barges only had six inches of clearance on either side of the bridge’s piers. One slight movement, left or right, and we could have ended up sitting on 300 tons of tooth picks, to say nothing of the bridge.
But thanks to Mother Nature and nautical talents of Stevens Towing Company, we accomplished that feat at four different bridges without incident. The only casualty on the entire journey was an older gentlemen in a john boat who appeared to be flounder gigging.
It was dusk when we came near him. He was gigging up one of the small creeks that fork off from the Waterway. The tide was somewhat low and the marsh grass high.
From his vantage point all he could see was this very big house, moving up the Intracoastal, with four guys, sitting on the balcony, sipping their drink of choice. When we got close enough to him, we saluted loudly and he fell backward into the water. I will never forget the look of astonishment on his face. Bill Stevens, captain of our lead tugboat, made sure the gentleman was safe.
For the three days and nights we were on the water, camping out in one of the bedrooms (or taking up Captain Stevens’ offer of a bunk on one of the tugboats), it seemed we were slipping back into an envelop of time when this grand house was very much alive with parties and laughter, amid the gentleness of a warm, coastal spring. Moving along the water to its new home, we all had the sense that the Strachan Mansion was indeed alive, as architect Bill Phillips said, and it was fantastic to be a small part of keeping it so.
Strachan Mansion moves from St. Simons Island, GA to Haig Point, Daufuskie Island, SC 1986. Courtesy WTOC,Savannah, GA