Paul Christiansen
Pascagoula
Barefoot and sunkissed, I was watching jet skiers fly across the Pascagoula River, lazily swinging my legs off the pier. My youngest, Bryce, patiently sat, waiting to call out, “Fish on!” as the ladies next to us dropped their crab net into the water with a splash. The setting sun sparkled in the waves and cast long shadows across the weathered boards beneath us. It was a perfect ending to a long day of exploring, and perhaps my favorite moment of our weekend in Pascagoula, Mississippi.
We were here to rediscover the town of my youth. I grew up in Alabama, but my birth certificate bears the name Pascagoula, because we lived near the state line, closer to this town than any other. My memories of this place are lumped into two categories—those passed down to me and the shadowy images leftover from a distant childhood. I knew that my grandfather—who I’ll always picture in his blue jumpsuits—worked at Ingalls Shipbuilding, a shipyard that has operated in the coastal town since 1938. Years later, my brother would build his career at the nearby Chevron refinery. As for myself, I have two specific memories of Pascagoula: me, tagging along with my mom to watch her play tennis at the local park; and attending, with my family, the Jackson County Fair every fall. To this day, the sounds of pigs squealing and the scent of a funnel cake’s sweet, fried dough transport me back there.
On this visit, my husband, Paul, and I, with our sons had rolled into town on a stormy Friday, dodging fat rain drops to duck inside one of the newest restaurants in town, Czak’s. Chef Josh Walczak, sporting vibrant, multi-colored pants, was busy running the kitchen for a packed house of lunchtime visitors. There were the elderly ladies dressed for an afternoon out on the town, as well as a cadre of fishermen who had been forced back onto land by the weather. We ordered a sampling of the Gulf-inspired menu—standouts were the shrimp bread and the crab cake patty sandwich, dubbed the “Vancleave Smash.”
Across the railroad tracks and two blocks over, we pulled into the last open parking spot in front of Hotel Whiskey Pascagoula. Built in 2016, the boutique hotel on Delmas Avenue holds court in the spot where the historic Brumfield’s Department Store stood from 1923 until 1990.
Paige Roberts, a Commissioner with Coastal Mississippi Tourism and President and CEO of the Jackson County Chamber of Commerce, explained how downtown Pascagoula has evolved over time. Delmas Avenue sits in three districts at once: Flagship City (a nod to the Navy ships built here), Main Street, and Pascagoula Redevelopment Authority (PRA).
Paul Christiansen
Round Island Lighthouse
The circa-1859 Round Island Lighthouse.
“The PRA is the urban renewal agency of the city,” said Roberts. “It identifies properties that have sat for a long time, and through public-private partnerships, it helps bring in new business.” Hotel Whiskey is one of the many success stories here, along with the City Centre—a building housing both businesses and luxury condos (and soon a rooftop bar), The District Coffee Co., and townhomes down the street. “The idea was to get residents downtown,” said Roberts, and with the residents came the restaurants and shops. “When we attracted Hotel Whiskey, we knew we were in good shape.”
Upstairs in our room, we changed out of our rain-soaked clothes and took in the tranquil effects of the space’s natural wood and soothing hues. The kids raided the complimentary snack basket while we put the Keurig to use, bringing our steaming coffees outside onto the wide balcony that spanned the length of the hotel. Below us, umbrella-carrying visitors dotted the sidewalks, ducking inside the Italian bistro across the street and the women’s clothing stores, Stella Gray and Zeal Boutique.
We debated a quick nap in the inviting beds, but instead jumped back in the car for a windshield tour of the town, stopping to admire the circa-1859 Round Island Lighthouse, lovingly restored after being relocated to mainland Pascagoula in 2010. We passed by the small, yellow cottage on Roosevelt Street where Jimmy Buffett spent his childhood; and drove by Point Park, which overlooks the massive Navy ships under construction at Ingalls Shipbuilding. As we cruised Beach Boulevard, we noted the long line of historic signs, marking the locations of countless historic homes lost to Hurricane Katrina.
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For dinner, we followed the crowd to Bozo’s Too, a lively family-run seafood stop that has been around since 1957. The unassuming restaurant was packed with families, energetic voices, and platters of crawfish. We joined in, ordering mudbug-laden nachos and mac-and-cheese, served with orders of Caribbean tacos and flounder baskets. Bellies full, we returned to the Whiskey, collapsed in our beds, and woke up refreshed bright and early Saturday morning.
A few blocks down from the hotel, The District Coffee Co. offers pastries, gourmet bagel bites; and bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits alongside a myriad of coffee options. The patio seating proved to be prime people-watching real estate. We settled in to observe a steady flow of customers cycling in and out, several talking football, even in the off-season.
From here, we traveled north to Moss Point and the Pascagoula River Audubon Center, one of forty-one educational facilities operated by the National Audubon Society. The Visitor Center showcased aquariums of native aquatic species, such as speckled trout and the Yellow Blotched Sawback turtle, as well as interactive exhibits about the Pascagoula River and its ecology. Trails and boardwalks crisscross the facility’s ten acres of land, leading to a kayak launch on Rhodes Bayou.
Paul Christiansen
Banks Compton mural
A mural by artist Banks Compton at Scranton's in downtown Pascagoula.
After teaching us the “Rules of the Road,” senior center assistant Malik Wells steered us on an informative, guided kayak tour of the surrounding waters. As we dipped our paddles into Rhodes Bayou, we passed an alligator sunning himself on a log while a pair of nesting osprey flew overhead. Wells guided us from the Bayou into the Pascagoula River, pointing out the area’s thick aquatic grasses.
“The cattails are a signal of brackish water, a sign that it’s not too salty,” said Wells, explaining how grasses are an important part of the river’s ecosystem, helping to prevent erosion. Then he gestured toward a grouping of firm leaves standing tall in the shallow water. “That is Bulltongue. Their roots are called duck potatoes, and the Native Americans would grind it into flour to make bread.” In fact, Pascagoula means “bread eaters” in Muskogean, the language of the Pascagoula nation, which occupied this area when Europeans first started exploring here.
As we hugged the shoreline to avoid motorboats, Wells told us how the National Audubon Society aims to protect birds’ migration lands, from where they start in South America to where they end in Canada, as well as everything in between. Here, the Audubon Center helps protect the Pascagoula River, the largest free-flowing river in the contiguous United States. The river’s entire eighty-mile route flows undammed from its origins to the Gulf.
One of the most common legends speaks of two neighboring Native American tribes, the Pascagoula and Biloxi. When the Pascagoula chief’s son fell in love with the Biloxi princess, a forbidden match, the fierce Biloxi planned a war against the peace-loving Pascagoula. In response, the Pascagoula people joined hands and sang songs while walking into the river to drown. To this day, people say they still hear the river singing.
As we rounded a bend and passed underneath a bridge, we came upon a ship graveyard of sorts—mysterious, rusting vessels abandoned to the elements. This was our turning point, and we maneuvered our kayaks around to bring us back to the Center.
To celebrate the river’s renowned status, Pascagoula annually hosts the Free Flowin’ Fest. We were lucky enough to be in town on the weekend of the festival and headed to the Pascagoula Beach Park. The entire town seemed to have turned out, with kids scaling the jungle gym and music-lovers relaxing in lawn chairs, tapping their toes. We puddle-jumped our way to the food trucks and picked up some delicious burritos from The Flamin’ Pepper and “fresh off the kettle” candied pecans from Gulf Coast Sweet Nuts. Across Beach Boulevard, we walked the massive pier jutting out over the water. Bryce caught a pinfish on his first cast, using the leftover corner of the burrito as his bait.
After the festival, we ventured across Highway 90, deep into a neighborhood that backed up against the Pascagoula River and Krebs Lake. On the edge of the water sits La Pointe-Krebs House and Museum. Dating back to 1757, it’s the oldest structure in Mississippi and likely the oldest home between the Appalachians and the Rocky Mountains. The house’s construction is unique as well, the only example on the Gulf Coast of walls made from tabby, which is a concrete-like mixture of quicklime and water with sand, ash, and locally found shell. Originally a two-room home, the owners expanded it over the years, and a look inside the building shows the various renovations.
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An adjacent museum gives an extensive overview of Pascagoula’s history, with many artifacts and historical details, and includes several theories on why the Pascagoula River is often referred to as the “Singing River.” One of the most common legends speaks of two neighboring Native American tribes, the Pascagoula and Biloxi. When the Pascagoula chief’s son fell in love with the Biloxi princess, a forbidden match, the fierce Biloxi planned a war against the peace-loving Pascagoula. In response, the Pascagoula people joined hands and sang songs while walking into the river to drown. To this day, people say they still hear the river singing. We listened for the notes as we lingered on the pier behind the La Pointe-Krebs house.
On Saturday evening, Delmas Avenue was alive with restaurant-goers. We ordered two large, specialty pizzas—and a personal pan for the munchkin—from Uncle Joe’s Pizza & Wings and ate upstairs on our hotel balcony, enjoying a relaxing evening overlooking the crowds below.
While the kids slept in Sunday morning, my husband Paul and I slipped out to Delicious Donuts Pascagoula for some morning treats, including a half dozen variety pack of donuts.
Paul Christiansen
Mississippi Sandhill Crane National Wildlife Refuge
Walking along the trails at the Mississippi Sandhill Crane National Wildlife Refuge.
Car packed, we bid farewell to Hotel Whiskey and drove north to the Mississippi Sandhill Crane National Wildlife Refuge for a morning walk through the wet pine savanna ecosystem.
Looking closely, we spotted orchids and carnivorous pitcher plants lining the path. If you’re lucky, you’ll catch a rare glimpse of the red-capped Mississippi sandhill crane. Through conservation efforts, the refuge has helped grow the population from around thirty birds to now more than two hundred. Though we missed the sandhill crane, we were serenaded by a plethora of songbirds, which my Merlin app identified as more than six different species singing at the same time.
Our last leg of the journey involved an unforgettable experience at Gulf Coast Gator Ranch & Airboat Swamp Tours. Armed with large chunks of gator food, we strolled the scenic walking path, where only a chain-link fence separated us from some of the largest alligators we’ve ever seen. These hungry reptiles did not disappoint, rolling through the water every time their massive jaws latched on to a piece of feed tossed over the fence. Once we emptied our food cups, we embarked on an airboat adventure with tour guide David Bower. He navigated us through the surrounding swamp, thrilling the crowd with his daring turns and educating us on the inner workings of the wetlands. As we passed underneath a bridge, he pointed out purple martin nests attached to the underside and explained how alligators lie in wait underneath, in hopes that the babies fail in their attempts to fly. Around another turn, Bower showed us an abandoned mound of mud and grasses—a leftover alligator nest slowly disintegrating back into the swamp.
It was an unforgettable finale to my (re)discovery of this corner of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where a sleepy town that embraces its past revealed a vibrant core and a promising future built on community and industry.
Disclaimer: This trip was partially funded by Coastal Mississippi, though the opinions of the writer are entirely her own and formed independently of this fact.
