On the dock on the bay

            The bay is quiet in the early morning hours, the sounds of idling boat motors echoing around the harbor, preparing for a days' catch.

            Shrimpers, wearing weathered baseball caps pulled tight on their heads and faded black rain boots, head out to the open waters before dawn, hoping they’ll catch their limit of 50 bags of oysters, fresh from Aransas Bay.

            This scene is replayed every morning in Rockport, a busy seaport town about three hours southwest of Fort Bend County. My husband is part of the Coastal Prairie Chapter of the Texas Master Naturalists, and they planned a weekend trip to Rockport to see the sights, especially the majestic whooping cranes.

            The Rockport/Fulton area is a mixture of old and new Texas. Confederate cemeteries are on the tourist attraction list right next to modern art galleries. Because the temperatures were in the 70’s, the skies a brilliant blue and the humidity non-existent, we happily spent our first day outdoors.

            At Goose Creek State Park, we saw a family cleaning the redfish they’d caught that day, and the efficient husband-and-wife team were surrounded by a flock of hungry brown and white pelicans. As soon as they’d finish fileting a fish, the pelicans would open their huge beaks to catch the skeleton, and there was invariably a fight to see who’d fly away with the prize.

            Lunch was at the Moon Dog Café, a popular local hangout that’s right on the water front. With open sides and a constant breeze, the hippie-style cafe the perfect spot to watch the boats come in and out of the harbor.

            Oysters were the main catch of the day, and the decks of all the boats mooring at the dock were laden down with bulging sacks of freshly caught oysters.

            The dock manager said those oysters would be on their way to all parts of Texas as well as Mississippi and Louisiana by the afternoon and perhaps on dinner plates that same evening. The public couldn't buy from the boats, but shrimp, oysters and fish were readily available from nearby shops.  

            We stayed at the Lighthouse Inn, a step back in time to the gracious hotel days when guests relaxed on shady verandas. Thanks to a great tip from Wayne and Vicki Poorman, we were on the dock before the sun rose the next morning, cameras in hand, watching the shrimp boats leave the harbor bathed in scarlet, pink and yellow light.

            When it was time for the trip out to see the whoopers, I stayed in town as my stomach's not happy on the open water. I took advantage of an afternoon to myself and toured Fulton and Rockport.

            I started with a leisurely drive down Fulton Beach Road, stopping along the way to photograph The Big Tree, one of the oldest live oaks in Texas, and spend some reflective time at the Schoenstatt Chapel.

            My afternoon ended with a tour of the historic Fulton Mansion, and the tour guides were knowledgeable about the time period and the house.

            The 1877 Victorian mansion is in need of major repairs, from shoring up the foundation to getting a new coat of paint on the outside. Luckily, a year-long renovation starts at the end of February, and I'm glad I got a chance to see this majestic lady before she retreats for the next year.  

            Sunday afternoon, we left Rockport via the coast road, knowing we'd come back soon, if for nothing more than to sit on the dock on the bay – thanks Otis – and watch the sun illuminate the world.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.