As the morning light warms the sky into a soft pink, a group of brown pelicans swoops across the cresting wave of the Atlantic. On the shoreline, we pass horseshoe crabs washed up by the tide overnight, while up in the sand dunes signs of turtles’ nests are just visible. At this moment in the gentle light of dawn, it could be prehistoric times on Hilton Head Island; this patch of South Carolina feels almost untouched by the last 10,000 years.
In an hour or so the island will start to wake up – golfers will tee off at the world-famous courses, locals will pick up their morning coffee from the little bakeries, the marina will start to fill with shoppers, and beach-goers will lay out their towels and take a morning dip in the ocean. But as the sun rises, all is quiet on this patch of Atlantic coast, save for the soft lap of the waves against the sand.
