A NEW HARDCOVER FINE ART BOOK
Visions of abandoned lighthouses, churches and homes illuminate and expand our knowledge of unique Bahamas settings. Bahama Spaces is the first book to explore the unseen Bahamas. Inside, a collection of photographs and stories brings living history and shows, in vivid color, the relationships between people and their Family Island land. Five Bahamian islands are featured in the book: Eleuthera, Long Island, Cat Island, the Berry Islands, and Acklins & Crooked Island.
BAHAMA SPACES is Jim Austin's fine art coffee table book, 11" by 13", of his color photography, ten years in the making. It portrays celebrated monuments and unknown sites in the Bahamas through compelling landscape photographs. Austin chose lighthouses, churches and abandoned rural ruins with deep historical and social relationships to make the book unique. These quiet, hidden settings reflect the deeply valued beliefs of their Bahamian builders.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Photographing these remote island ruins, I was often surprised by the unexpected. Fixing a point in time was less important than spontaneity and surprise. Finally, adventuring into these ruins for photography enlarged my consciousness and gave me hope for the people of the Bahamas and their future."
See the book Bahama Spaces here.
On his travels through northern Japan, the poet Matsuo Basho made Nikko his 5th station stop. In 1689 he wrote a haiku about it:
O holy, hallowed shrine !
How green all the fresh young leaves,
In thy bright sun shine !
In his notes, Basho recorded that the word "Nikkoo" meant the bright beams of the sun. Basho's eternal sun light glowed along on the stairway handrail as we walked up the steps of Toshogu temple. The name of this building translated as “light from the East” and it symbolized the dawn of a new born nation: Japan, land of the rising sun.
PHOTOGRAPHING BEAUTIFUL NIKKO
We'd come to Nikko (NĒ -KŌ) to photograph its sites, to walk along the racing Daiya River, and explore old Japan. We stayed at the Nikko Kanaya Hotel and we left all our optical gear there but one camera and one lens we packed for a day's photographing. From Tokyo, we traveled about 120 kilometers to Nikko on the efficient Tobu-Nikko Line train. For the whole trip, I'd packed only a couple lenses, with wide and medium focal lengths, and left the tripod behind. Since Nikko’s humidity was hard on electronics, all gear traveled in Ziploc bags with moisture absorbing pads. With some exceptions, our cameras were welcome in most shrines and temples. We arrived in the winter when the mists settle around sacred temples and shrines around Mount Nikko.
NO PICTURES PLEASE
A sign outside the sunlit temple read “No pictures of the Buddha, please.” "Okay," I thought, at least it will be warm inside and my hands will stop shaking. After leaving our hiking shoes by the doorway near snow-and-moss-covered rocks, our sock-clad feet slid easily across the polished wood floor of the outer hall. Inside, we inhaled an ancient aromatic combination of incense, mildew and lacquer.
A priest named Jikaku built this temple, known as Sanbutsu-doh. “Doh” meant hall and “Sanbutsu” meant three Buddhas. We walked under the three 16-foot high wooden Buddhas. Each figure was smiling. These Buddhas were off-limits because their temple housed a hallowed mausoleum. Worshiped for over two thousand years, the Buddha figures are sacred representations of three local mountain peaks. Shivering, we kept the cameras turned off and just stared at the gold-leafed Buddhas.
THE GREAT UNIFIER TOKUGAWA IEYASU:
The Nikko Toshogu temple was built to immortalize Ieyasu Tokugawa (1543-1616) one of three "Great Unifiers" of Japan. At the temple entrance, the ornate gate has two Niō, wrathful and muscular guardians of the Buddha. These gate guardians were carved with fierce expressions that were meant to terrify evil doers. I was shaking as I photographed the open-mouthed guardian on the right side of the gate, the Misshaku Kongō, but my tremors came more from the freezing January chill than from statue-induced terrors.
We marveled at Ieyasu’s armor, swords and household objects in the temple collections. Some objects were marked with the Japanese katakana character for samurai and with Ieyasu's logo. This most famous Samurai (soon to be featured in an FX film based on James Clavell's novel and shot in Japan) this Shogun gathered builders and craftsmen from all over Japan to construct his mausoleum at Toshogu Shrine. A warrior and king, Iyeyasu Tokugawa's presence remains vibrant and his image is deified in many of the temples and shrines.
FROM SHINTO TO STAR WARS
There were many works of reverent art at Nikko. Shinto shrines, like Toshogu, were built throughout this UNESCO World Heritage Center, and art culture is central to the Shinto faith. The term Shinto comes from two words. “Shin” means gods. The second part, “tō,” means “way” or “art.” Think of Shinto as “way of life,” or “way of the Gods.” Shinto embodied a Japanese native belief system that cherished one’s ancestors and the spirits of nature called “kami.” Kami existed in both divine and earthly forces, including plants, animals, mountains, and stones. To Shinto believers, the world was good and people were good. While there was harmony in life, it was always threatened by evil spirits, who must be kept at bay. Does this sound familiar? Talking to park attendants, we learned that George Lucas based his Star Wars themes on the samurai culture in Japan. Mr. Lucas heard the Japanese word “jidai,” meaning “age” or “time period,” and he came up with “Jedi” for his Star Wars knights. One reason you would look all day was that many of the Yomeimon Gate's figures were parts of plays and story-telling theatrical scenes.
DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT EVIL
Bolstered by a can of piping-hot buncha tea from a Pocari Sweat soft-drink vending machine labeled "attakaii" for hot drinks, we strode to the nearby stable. The horse stable at Tokugawa Ieyeyasu’s masoleum was also a national treasure. It held the painted panel carvings of the Three Wise Monkeys over the stable doors. They embody the old saying “See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil.” Samurai were ferocious warriors when mounted on horseback and, in feudal Japan, horses were rare. Caring for a samurai's horse was a sacred duty. Horse caretakers were expected to be loyal to the samurai, like a squire to a knight. A Buddhist monk from China introduced the "see no evil' concept into Japan. The three monkeys’ poses demonstrated an ancient religious motto: “if we do not see, hear or talk evil, then we ourselves shall be spared all evil.” In Japan, the old monkey saying also shows a play on words. The Japanese word for monkey, saru, sounds like the word zaru that means the negative form of any verb ( i.e. “don’t”). The Japanese saying “mizaru, kikazaru, iwazaru” means “don’t see, don’t hear, don’t speak.”
LOOK ALL DAY AND NOT TIRE
There is a gang of weird animals at Nikko. In feudal Japan, people’s imagination invented many evils. Then, as now, the temples’ carved animals were considered good luck charms to ward off evil spirits. Like the fierce gate guardians, Shinto shrine figures were there for protection. One temple gate, called the Yomeimon, named for a gate in Kyoto, had 508 figures on it. Its Japanese name, “higurashi-no-mon,” meant that you can look at each animal all day long until sundown and not tire of them.
Trying to stay warm, we kept moving from one shrine to another. In Nikko Park, an elderly woman attendant offered us 200 yen home-brewed fermented tea to ward off the chill. She told us we'd come too early in the year for sake. On the 13th of April, Nikko National Park has a 4-day festival called Yayoi Matsuri. Town residents parade decorated floats and sake is ladled out of the barrels and put in square wooden cups for everyone. Being practically minded, the sake brewers hold two festivals to pray for a good future crop and reward the work done to harvest the Fall rice crop.
We photographed large, colorful sake barrels, stacked up near the Roumon gate. The gate is part of Futarasan Shrine, which dates to the year 767. There are many varieties of sake. At Nikko, undiluted sake, or genshu, is a specialty. Crafted by the master brewers at the Tobu-Nikko station, tasty genshu sake can inspire anyone to write poetic haiku. As a master of haiku and one who often got drunk while sipping sake, Basho knew alot about sake:
waves smell of saké
BLESSINGS FOR CHILDREN & TRAVELERS
Leaving the cedar tree forest, we walked on Daiya river valley road. Along it, one hundred carved stone figures were labeled Bake Jizo (bah-kay-jee-zoh). The figures were protectors for travelers and children who came to Nikko. Digging through the frozen soil to repair a statue, maintenance workers toiled to enlarge the trail and protect the statues. I made of photograph of a live traveler seated in the middle of the Bake Jizo.
ETERNAL SUN LIGHT
We reached the end of photographing after several days at Nikko. Sunlight and sacred scenes had surrounded us. The enshrined presence of the Shogun was present everywhere we went. Nikko's racing river, misty mountains and the warmth of its residents made us want to return, at a time when we might toast Basho with a glass of undiluted sake. Meanwhile, the eternal Nikko sunlight keeps shining onto stone steps that are worn from the tread of centuries of reverent feet.
Last two Images
1. Kanji calligraphy, Matsuo Basho: ( The more I drink / the more I can’t sleep / night snow).
2. Sake barrels stacked at Nikko.
“Slow Photography is the ongoing experience of an intentional, attentive, mindful, patient process of making photographs.” ~ Jim Austin Jimages.
Our thinking and imagining is often the core of our photography. Here are seven more ideas to expand our Slow Photography:
Purpose, patience and practice are the essence of Slow Photography. I believe intentional work is more interesting over time. Also, it may be that when the intention and purpose of our work is crystal clear, we create more coherent bodies of photographic artwork.
Practice techniques for patience. Take a single frame without looking at the camera back. Trust that you did it right. I have often rushed and tried to get an image too quickly, only to miss focus or compose awkwardly. When I am patient, I make better pictures. It helps to explore all angles when we photograph, framing from below and above. Waiting to press the shutter until we get a sense of rightness or aha works well. Know how a place feels, even with your eyes closed. Hear the silence within your scene. Take your time.
When I take images at the Godforsaken speed of light, the camera distracts from my full attention and I lose the sense of place.
Be deliberate with your attention. A while ago I used to say: “I was in a hurry, so I forgot to...pick one: compose, use the correct ISO, think. This is a poor excuse. Think of a pop singer. When singing the national anthem, no musician says: “I was in a hurry, so I left out two lines in the second verse.” To perform at a consistently higher level takes daily practice and this is true for Slow Photography.
When I make photographs with my undivided attention, the camera fades into the background. Photo outings become more memorable, like exquisite meals. They are not only fun, but are savored for their vivid colors, pleasant companionship, and memorable experiences.
4: Be Still
Photo tutorials tell us we should hunt and be always on the prowl for pictures. This may work well for specific ways of seeing. However, a Slow Photography approach invites us to be still and allow the image to come to us. There is no golden rule that says we must have 20 frames per second. Instead of spray and pray, let us savor and meditate. Today, with capture rates so rapid, it’s easy to be imprisoned by the earsplitting marketing myths that we should use a camera like an automatic weapon. Speed, like sharpness, easily become obsessive. A poem by David Wagoner says, when you are lost, “Stand still, the forest knows where you are. You must let it find you.”
5: Never Before Seen
Seek Vuja de, the French for the “never before seen.” Make time to notice the fleeting sensation and feeling: "I've never seen this before." This sensation happens when we do something we’ve done a hundred times before yet suddenly feel as though we’re experiencing something completely new. The idea is credited to comedian George Carlin in a book by Stanford’s Bob Sutton called Weird Ideas that Work. Sutton says “The 'Vuja de' mentality is the ability to keep shifting opinion and perception. It means shifting our focus from objects or patterns in the foreground to those in the background.”
Ask yourself, “What place do I enjoy going back to? and Where do I go, or imagine I’m going, where I’m most in my flow?” Choose places that breathe life and energy into your being. You may find your interior worries and doubts─your “me bubble”─evaporating when you are fully immersed in your chosen surroundings.
7: Be Curiously Attentive
Think of the last time you left a room to do something and could not remember it once you were in another room. This happens, in part, not because we don’t pay attention when we leave a room and go into another. It’s that we forgot the idea to which we were paying attention. To be remindful is to appropriately recall a past experience into the present in a healing manner.
Text and Photographs by Jim Austin, author. His 2020 book is SUBLIGHT: Seasons in Slow Photography.
Text and Photography by Jim Austin
Bill held up an HO train engine. On its cars, he put the Boy Scout oath that read: "To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight." We were touring Deltaville, Virginia, and chatting about two of Bill's passions, model railroading and the maritime museum.
An active member of the Rappahannock River Railroaders (RRR), Bill Goettle belongs to a group of model railroad craftsmen and enthusiasts. They tour and give presentations with their working O and HO setup inside a trailer. The setup includes a DIY tool for cleaning the small tracks. As Bill showed me the HO, O and G guage railroad city he called "The New Deltaville", he added props to parts of the realistic scale model.
Bill's day starts with physical therapy. At 82, his stories are like his trains, full of life and energy. A 350+ hour volunteer with the Deltaville Maritime Museum, Bill knows the history of the museum in detail. We saw a reproduction of the Explorer, Captain John Smith's 31 foot long, 22-inch draft shallop. We also boarded the F.D. Crockett, a 1924 buy boat named for its original owner Ferdinand Desota Crocket. This vessel is the last largest log boat built for power, constructed with nine logs that were shaped, fitted and fastened to form its hull. As a buy boat comes into port, its crew raise a black ball, so fishermen know to sell their catch and crops to the boat. Bill told us that crops included watermelons loaded into the vessel below decks.
Bill is a Army veteran, a mason, and a Scoutmaster for Troop 341 in Virginia. He helps Boy Scouts design and build wooden rowboats from scratch during Deltaville's Family Boat Week held each July. An avid sailor, he cruised from the Bahamas to Maine with his wife in two sailboats, an Allberg 30 and an Allied Princess 36 ketch. Bill's kindness and generosity were as sharp and strong as his experience. Conversing with him, I was reminded that staying sharp means looking out for your life long passions.
Text and photography by Jim Austin Jimages.
What do we do when our creative light goes dim?
"I'm not feeling creative with my photography", "I'm out of subjects to photograph", and "My camera's been on the shelf for a while" are all things we may feel. Indeed, dark thoughts and creative ruts happen to each of us at some time. We might even think there's nothing for us to photograph. While these thoughts are a natural part of our path, when we brood on them, a sense of self-doubt may take over.
We may feel like quitting photography altogether unless we can find our way out of the darkness of a creative rut.
One way is to st small goals that tie into our habits. When we first started taking pictures, the craft of photography probably felt bright and energetic. To reignite our craft, we need a spark. Our habits provide the fuel to get out of a rut. Since there are things we do repeatedly every day, we can harness our picture taking to these actions. Make the bed. Put on our shoes. Ride the subway or bus to work. The key is to put on our camera like a piece of clothing, and then commit to a few pictures. To escape the immobility and powerlessness of a rut, go through the motions. Get your camera shutter moving on any subject. For instance, I think: "I'm going to take five shots between the bedroom and the front door."
The subject matter can be mundane. We have to put aside ideas about "epic" "good light" and "photogenic subjects." Just make yourself, and the shutter, move. Get more oxygen to brain and minds eye, and you will be surprised by the ideas that emerge from your subconscious.
Taking a photo walk is a time proven way to reignite our process. To her delight, I walk our dog about four times a week. The camera always goes round my neck after I get shoes (and mask) on. The dog pulls me outside, and then I just snap a few shots of ordinary things along the way.
To paraphrase Thackery: "There are a thousand pictures lying within you that you don't know until you get moving and raise up your camera to shoot.”
(For my pal EB).
The dog pulls abruptly on her leash. Ahead of her, a tiny fawn flits away and bounds around a dogwood tree. Virginia rain lashed the pines moments ago, yet in minutes the sun and humidity have returned. Encompassed by emerald radiance, the world of tech, devices, speed and stress melts away and disappears.
We are walking a dog-friendly, well-marked forest trail that winds between the marsh and the Albemarle-Chesapeake Canal. We came not only to walk the dog, but to enjoy some morning forest bathing. Forest bathing, or shinrin-yoku, is not about filling a tub in the trees. A health practice among the Japanese, shinrin-yoku embodies respect for the divine nature of the trees. It involves a myriad of ways to improve mental and physical health. For the Japanese, whose working culture suffers from "overwork death" (Karō shi 過労死 ), forest bathing is a way to balance stress with the benefits of immersion in nature. Studies from Japan suggest the practice can improve sleep quality, reduce heart rate, and lower cortisol levels.
Virginia is a forested state. We saunter by a diverse group of tree species. Overhead, stately pines are graced by sunlight beams. The ground is moist and needle-covered. As we walk, we pass native magnolia and sassafras. By the museum and parking lot, docent master gardeners who specialize in historic gardening are planting trees with deep roots in American history. Docents Linda Bradley and her husband have planted Eastern Redbud, Regal Prince Oak, Sweetbay Magnolia and Allegheny chinquapin (dwarf chestnut). The tulip poplar tree is also here; it was a favorite of Thomas Jefferson, who had one planted at his Monticello estate in 1807.
Two Local Heroes from Long Ago:
On the walk home, we soak up details of the Battle of Great Bridge, fought here on December 9th, 1775. Trail plaques mention heroes of the battle. Polly Miller, a single 35-year-old owner of an ordinary (or inn) served spirits and food at her establishment. Miss Polly ordered refreshments for the Patriot troops. She gave aid and comfort to injured Virginians but took charge of the British wounded as well. According to historian William S. Forrest, she saved the lives of half a dozen men.
William “Billy” Flora was cold. A rime of ice encrusted the march grasses of the Great Dismal Swamp that lay on both sides of the narrow spit of land where Flora was posted. An African-American sentry and freight company owner, Flora was the last to leave his post as the British advanced. He was crouched down in the lee of a pile of shingles next to a burnt out building. Less than 70 yards ahead, on the other side of the Great Bridge, British soldiers were about to charge. Amidst a shower of musket balls, Billy kept firing his Old Betty musket at the red-coats before he turned, crossed the causeway and lifted up a plank. This obstruction prevented the British regiment from crossing. Under fire from the Virginia Patriots, the British retreated. Flora was one of 5,000 Black free men who helped bring about American Independence.
LINK to an interactive map, click gbbattlefield.org/The Great Bridge Battlefield & Waterways History Foundation (757.482.4480.Open 9:00 am to 5:00 pm Monday-Friday)
"You don't know how I feel." We have said this. We've been told this. Like you, I know the experience of being misunderstood or have my feelings discarded. I have misunderstood others as well.
Some people are just not able to know how others feel. They have no theory of mind, and thus no compassion. Simply unable to imagine the mind or feelings of another person, we see this as we watch what they do.
To become more compassionate takes effort. First, I try to be aware of people's feelings and moods when I photograph them. This may mean listening instead of photographing. It might require putting the camera aside for a while. Compassion can mean returning at a better time when your portrait subject is feeling better. At times, we might have to work at a slower or faster pace to match the pace of our subject. It can lead to making a game of the photography process or giving control in a session to someone who objects to being photographed. Compassion always demands a change from self preoccupations to thinking of the needs of another person.
Compassion is not passion. While they may be two wheels on the same drive train of our mental energy, passion is more about the self and comes from inside. Compassion is about feeling for another and it's more often impelled from outside of us. It starts outside of us when another person is suffering, and we are moved to suffer along with them. Compassion is not altruism. It is not empathy.
Compassionate people are described as patient, kind, wise. I was not born with these traits, and I have to work at it, to practice to become more compassionate. I've found compassion an immense challenge. Often I find it hard to maintain compassion and transform it so it lasts.
Compassion Exercise: Keep a gratitude section in your diary or journal. I began to keep a gratitude journal in 2019, writing down all the things for which I am grateful.
“ PEOPLE THINK THE CAMERA steals their soul. Places, I am convinced, are affected in the opposite direction. The more they are photographed (or drawn and painted) the more soul they seem to accumulate.”
~ John Pfahl (Photographer, teacher. Feb 17, 1939-April 15, 2020)
Gardener, opera fan and photographer John Pfahl knew about intimacy. He had, according to his loving family, a deep interest in people. Mr. Pfahl's recent passing, from multiple life-threatening issue complicated by Covid-19, was a loss. His work, and the quote above, inspires a question: What brings us back to a place?
Perhaps the accumulated soul of special places loosens a space within us that had been confined. Returning to our evocative places can add layers to our experience of it. Our appreciation of the setting grows as our memories of it deepen. Place familiarity, instead of breeding contempt, grows into intimacy.
Locate in the Bahamas, Saint Saviors church is one of these healing places, as it invites a photographic effort to evoke the invisible though the visible. If saying so appears not too pretentious, photographing Saint Saviors church is a search for the soul of a place.
An Anglican parish on Cat Island in the southeast Bahamas, Saint Saviors was the 'mother church' of New Bight community, and to many it is still an important part of its faith. To get to the island, we sailed from Florida and then south and east of Nassau. Located off the Queens Highway near a gas station and store, the structure of the building still stands. The roof is almost gone, its beams taken away from hurricane winds. The grounds around the edifice, dried bushes and encroaching trees, were cleared in 2020 by a restoration committee of devoted Anglican community members.
Cat Island is the cultural heart of the Bahamas. It's residents preserve their history. Speaking to an Anglican elder who was born on the island, I heard about Saint Saviors' furnishings. Rose Johnson, a church member in her late 70's, told me she had preserved Saint Saviors' pulpit. Father Eric Miller, an Anglican priest, shared his plans to eventually restore Saint Saviors' edifice itself, so he is fundraising and rebuilding several Anglican churches on Cat Island.
Why go back to this remote ruin? Inside its walls, Saint Saviors radiates the light of the world. Shadows scamper across its walls in a dance. Near the Baptismal font, dark shadows from a few remaining roof beams play across the walls when the sun appear above the clouds. Through its western windows, green tendrils advance into Saint Saviors open interior. It is easy to imagine what a vibrant place of worship the church had been, and could become again. Seated on the church floor near the baptismal font, I recall words of writer and photo instructor Minor White: “ Venture into the landscape without expectations. Let your subject find you. When you approach it, you will feel resonance, a sense of recognition. Sit with your subject and wait for your presence to be acknowledged.” Once again I begin to photograph.
Saint Saviors keeps calling to the soul. Its ethos speaks in the hushed voices of a spiritual community. These murmurs are promising. They echo with the hope that, under the guidance of Father Eric Miller and a faithful community, this Cat Island mother church will once again become a place of worship for many souls.
A LOGGERHEAD TURTLE skull stared out from the corner of the Dungeness Mansion wall. I placed and photographed it there. It symbolized the endangered condition of that sea turtle species.*
We'd arrived at Dungeness, the ruins of the Carnegie mansion, after a hike. With our leashed dog making tracks along the River Walk trail, we hiked through a tunnel of twisting live oaks adorned with resurrection ferns and Virginia creeper, to arrive at the Dungeness dock. Robin, a National Park Service Ranger, answered our questions about Cumberland's wildlife and history. The island horses were feral. Wild pigs, coyotes, armadillos, turkeys, bobcats and whitetail deer all roamed the island, he said. As we walked east through the oak forest on a sandy road, with vultures circling overhead, rustling sounds from raccoons and armadillos in the saw palmettos created an eerie mood.
Robin also told us a longer story when we'd asked him about the island's history. The Coast Guard, during World War Two, was stationed on the island and routinely patrolled the Atlantic beaches on horseback. There were many American ships sunk by German submarines at the time. In a panic, one beach patrol returned to base and breathlessly reported that the Germans had developed an amphibious tank, which had come ashore from a submarine and left its huge treads on the the sand. In fact, the tracks were those of a loggerhead turtle**, whose kin had been laying eggs in the Atlantic beach sand for countless generations.There were human generations nesting on Cumberland, too. The Carnegies, Rockefellers and other prominent families have left their tracks, vehicles, and homes on the island.
Today the National Park Service oversees the island, and our admission fee was waived due to the economic impact of the coronavirus. Cumberland was closed April 3rd 2020, but reopened May 4th, and we arrived on May 9th.That day was World Migratory Bird Day. Cumberland's birds seemed to know about the event; present were blue-grey knatcatcher, Carolina wren, tanager, and yellow-throated warbler.
On a previous trip, one rainy day in January, I came across a motonless great horned owl. To the pique of a group of fire ants, I sat on their colony while photographing the owl. Practicing slow photography, I made three bracketed frames of the owl with a tripod-mounted camera. Later, combining the frames, I used photo editors to boost contrast and tonality.
Timeless and historic, Cumberland Island is a sanctuary of great contrasts. Upon its beaches, the textured tracks of loggerhead turtles stand out in stark contrast to the wind-swept sand. My experiences on this pristine Georgia barrier island have been equally indelible, leaving their own tracks etched into my dreams.
* I found the loggerhead turtle skull washed up on a remote Bahamas island in 2019.
**There are three kinds of turtles that nest on the island: leatherback, green and loggerhead. A turtle research group counted eight loggerhead (Caretta caretta) nests when we were on the island in May 2020. Loggerhead turtles are an endangered species per the Endangered Species Act; only one of 1000 sea turtle eggs reaches maturity.
Plan A Visit: https://www.nps.gov/cuis/planyourvisit/index.htm
Sea Turtle Rescue: https://www.jekyllisland.com/activities-category/sea-turtle/