On our way to Hunting Island we stopped in historic downtown Beaufort for coffee. We wandered into the Rustic Pup to shop for dog treats. The friendly owner offered Molly a biscuit and asked us, “Is this your first time in Beaufort?”

“Yes,” I answered before adding, “We’re on our way to Hunting Island to camp.”

“Oh,” she answered with a visible slump to her shoulders. Adding a bit of cheer to her voice she continued with, “Well, you’ll love it! But for us it’s so sad — all the erosion after the hurricanes.”

We did love it but also saw the aftermath of the recent hurricanes. Bits of former bath houses are now rubble on the beach, along with water pipes and electrical lines. Hundreds of palm trees have been topped or toppled by the storms, and what remains of the seaside road is now covered in sand. The ocean has reclaimed several hundred feet of beachfront, including the protective dunes.

Still: 200 campsites remain, and on a cool Saturday night in January every single site was occupied. A few brave young souls were swimming in the ocean. We left our shoes on and walked the beach. On Sunday we covered 11 miles (out and back), running out of energy before we ran out of beach. As we walked we saw evidence of efforts to slow down the coastal erosion. A series of seawalls perpendicular to shoreline and extending out into the surf were being constructed. Hopefully, the seawalls will trap the sand that wave action tries to carry offshore and the island will survive.

Edisto Beach was a shell collectors paradise. As we pulled into the campground Joe said, “Remember, no complaints. I reserved the only campsite available.” To help campers make informed decisions, the online reservation service includes a description of each campsite. When I hopped out to help Joe look for obstacles as he backed up, I immediately understood why this site was open. It was a hump. The picnic table was located at the bottom of the rise. Joe managed to level the van by straddling the hump

Joe jumped out to the van and I asked, “How did you know we could camp here?”

“We can camp anywhere.”

Edisto Beach is on an island bordered by a marsh on one side and a summer beach town on the other. The beach is narrow, even at low tide, but filled with shells — so many that broken bits crunched under our shoes as we walked the shoreline. Campers walked along the water’s edge looking for specimens and then showcased their finds on the picnic tables at their sites. Most went for size and brought back whelks, giant cockles and angel wings.

Many of the waterfront homes in Edisto were losing frontage to erosion. As a first time visitor, it looked to me like the ocean was waging a war with shore by pulling as much sand as possible back into the water. Beach walkers collected shells and the ocean retaliated by sculpting the beachfront.

Even though the campground was just steps away from a grocery store, a gas station and local restaurants, I’m not certain we will return. When the tide is in there isn’t much room to walk.