By Shirley Hiers

The full moon hung low in the sky, stirring emotions unlike other natural phenomena. The harvest moon brightens the paths for lovers, dreamers and sailors, and heralds the arrival of fall. It’s a new season – new beginnings and endings.
In the days before electric lights, farmers depended heavily on bright moonlight. The light of a full moon allowed them to extend their workday long after the sun had set. (The harvest moon rightly gets its name from agriculture.)
Just as farmers rely on the phases of the moon, local shrimper Hinton Arnsdorff does as well. This is the beginning of his busiest season – the months of September and October. Shrimp lay their eggs offshore, and the eggs float into the creeks. These shrimp are now coming out of the Georgia estuaries and moving out to the sound.
Hinton Arnsdorff is the owner and captain of the Grey Ghost, a 70-foot shrimp boat. He and his two strikers go to St. Catherines Channel every day. Hinton explained, “The shrimping season starts in April and goes until December … We ride the tide out and ride the tide back every day.”
In 2005, he bought the boat – 35 years after he first saw her docked at Fort McAllister. Her elusive charm captured his 19-year-old heart and wouldn’t let go. He vowed to own her one day.
The mysterious and intriguing name, Grey Ghost, has a haunting explanation. It was named after a Confederate soldier, Col. John S. Mosby, who was a cavalry battalion commander in the American Civil War. The battalion was known for its lightning quick raids in the dead of night, ranger-like tactics and ability to skillfully blend in with local farmers. For a time, the Northern belief was that Mosby was a myth.
When I asked Hinton if he’d ever seen anything unexplainable while at sea, he responded, “I’ve never seen anything. The grey ghost must be settled in.” However, his wife Traci is not so sure.
Traci has spent several unsettling nights on the boat. The tone of her voice alluded to her belief. She would only say, “It’s got some eerie sounds. In the middle of the night, it begins to creak and groan.”
Hinton interjected, “I don’t know, the boat is so big it can’t rock. Everybody that has ever gone out on it says the same thing – it’s haunted.”
Hinton’s shrimping technique is methodically executed. Not a big talker, he simply said, “We work the tides. On the new moon, we do real good … the higher the tide, the more shrimp we catch.”
He elaborated further, “The shrimp are shedding on this harvest moon. They shed their peelings (hulls), which allows them to grow bigger. As the shells stretch, the hull comes off. As soon as the moon phase changes, the shells harden again. With each change of the moon, the shrimp go through this cycle.”
In accordance with federal regulations, the impressive nets of the Grey Ghost are designed to release turtles and fish. Hinton explained, “There are big holes in the nets … a big grid. When the turtles and fish hit it, they are shot out the bottom. It can shoot out an 800-pound turtle.”
Interestingly, the shrimp swim down the middle of the nets through the grid. The net flaps prevent the shrimp from escaping with the turtles and fish.
The Grey Ghost docks and unloads shrimp daily at Marker 107. It furnishes fresh wild Georgia shrimp for the restaurant on Kilkenny Creek. Hinton said, “It’s not uncommon to see people at the restaurant come out and look at the boat.”
He added, “A lot of the other restaurants have quit getting their shrimp locally. They are able to buy imported shrimp already peeled, deveined and headed … it’s cheaper and faster for them.”
Hinton and Traci have no problem selling their fresh shrimp. They run a successful seafood business from their home in Daniel Siding off Hwy. 17 south. They have a waiting list of customers for their wild Georgia shrimp.
I have lived on Richmond Hill’s coast all my life and until recently never heard of Wild Georgia Shrimp. Traci enlightened me, “Wild Georgia Shrimp is a logo. The Georgia Shrimp Association came up with it to help market Georgia’s shrimp. All are actually wild Georgia shrimp.”
There is no denying shrimping is extremely hard work. As Hinton says, “There’s something about the salt air … it will bring you back every time. It gets in your blood and you can’t get away from it.”
Hinton was introduced to the shrimping trade in the late 1960s aboard the Karo Jo. He learned the business from the “Granddaddy of the Ogeechee,” J.M. Sikes. During that time, J.M. had two shrimp boats, the John Patrick and Karo Jo.
J.M. Sikes is definitely one of a kind. He was born almost 70 years ago literally on the edge of the Ogeechee River – in a tent at Rabbit Hill to Mitchell and Ronella Sikes. From the time he was delivered by old Dr. Gene Smith from Pembroke, he has been a “river rat.”
Recently during a conversation with J.M., I asked who taught him to run a shrimp boat. Without blinking his crystal clear blue eyes, he said, “I taught myself … I didn’t have anybody to help me.” I understood.
J.M. went on, “I taught Hinton Arnsdorff, ‘Crab’ Moore and my son Kenny how to run a shrimp boat. We would stay out a week at a time and never had an accident. I was always careful.”
Speaking in a lowered voice, J.M. shared something very personal and meaningful. “Mr. Hugh Miner helped me get my first boat. He loaned me the money for the down payment. A lot of people couldn’t get along with Mr. Hugh, but I never had a problem with him. He was never cranky with me … he liked me.”
Remembering those days almost 50 years ago, J.M. smiled as he said, “Mr. Hugh told me that I would make history by being the first in Bryan County to get a shrimp boat registered. When I got the boat and docked it at Rabbit Hill, he came down and watched me paint her name on the back of it.”
Today J.M. and his wife Freida are still in business – the honey business, that is. With more than 900 beehives, they stay busy. Their specialty is Tupelo honey, and to my pleasant surprise, J.M. gave me a jar.
Tupelo honey, with its light golden amber color and a greenish cast, is sinfully delicious. One gets the impression when they hear Van Morrison sing “Tupelo Honey” that it has to be something special.
Not surprisingly, a jar of J.M. and Freida’s Tupelo honey made once it to the White House. In his slow southern drawl, J.M. said simply, “They wanted the best!”
To inquire about the ‘Grey Ghost’ or the fresh shrimp, call 756-3216.)

Hiers was born and raised in Richmond Hill. She can be reached at shirleyhiers@comcast.net.