Standing on the pier, it’s about all I can do to maintain an upright position against the wicked February wind. It’s not just wind; it’s little pellets of steady drizzle that feel like buckshot hitting my face. Were it not tied down, the wind would snatch my hat and hurl it a hundred yards before I could even raise my hand. I am surrounded by a sky the color of a raw bruise; looking across the bay at the broiling dark clouds, they portend a long, cold, wet night—hunkered in my camper. Welcome to Goose Island State Park!
It amazes me that the campground is full. Obviously, there are people who love everything about the sea, who will do anything to be near it. The salty breeze, the ever-present fishy tidal stink, the incessant wind. The nastier the weather, the more they like it. They’ll fish anytime they get the chance. Me? I’m a mountain guy.
Goose Island State Park sits at the southern tip of Lamar Peninsula on a little over 321 acres, near Rockport, Texas. While not exactly Margaritaville, it is located directly on the Texas coast sandwiched between St. Charles and Aransas bays, flat as a drive-through hamburger. It’s comprised of two parts: the mainland and the island.
The mainland is the only real “dirt” in the park, and it contains 57 campsites hidden among the oaks, day use recreation areas, a playground, a limited trail system, and a rather busy bird blind. It offers a portion of tallgrass prairie, with bushy bluestem, saltgrass, and a wind-sculpted mix of coastal live oaks, red bays, yaupon, and wax myrtle trees (a red bay tree is an evergreen with reddish green bark used in cabinet and boat making). The outlying barrier islands, Matagorda, and San Jose, probably offer some protection, making it easier for trees to survive on the salty, storm-prone coast. If there is wildlife to be seen (and there is), the mainland is where you will find it.
The island is really made of oyster shells, offering both a shell ridge and a marshland. It abuts a crowded rim of private housing that places sea lovers as close to the ocean as physically possible without encroaching state property—tenements for rich people! It has a mix of salt marshes, tidal flats, and a small grassland area on the highest ground. Seagrass beds and oyster reefs fill the bays surrounding Goose Island. The island gives access to a massive 24/7 lighted fishing pier that sprawls 1,620 feet into the water, and 44 side-by-side seaside campsites, half of which can drop a line right from the back of their campers.
There is also a large boat launch, kayak/canoe launch and fish cleaning station on the island. It oftentimes serves as a type of pelican food bank as fish parts empty directly into the nearby bay.
Some like to come to the beach to swim. Not only is there no beach, but there is also no swimming. Too many hazards in the water: concrete bulkheads, oyster shells, mud flats and ribbony marsh grass, not to mention lurking alligators. Nope, this place is all about fishing, ocean worship, or birding. Over 400 species of birds have been recorded in the park including the guest of honor—the endangered whooping crane. These elegant birds winter in the Aransas National Wildlife Refuge feeding on berries and blue crabs in the coastal wetlands around Goose Island. The wildlife refuge is just across the narrow mouth of St. Charles Bay. Goose Island also attracts multitudes of wading and shore birds. If you like hiking, you’re in for another disappointment. There is one insipid, trivial nature trail (Turk’s Cap Trail) that winds through the thick live oak woods surrounding the mainland campground. In summertime it’s known as mosquito city.
If you haven’t already picked up on it, the happiest campers at Goose Island are fishermen. You can fish from a boat, you can fish from the pier, you can fish right over the seawall, and do it all without a fishing license while inside state park boundaries. The waters right around the bays are active with Red Drum, speckled trout, redfish, flounder, and sheepshead, to name just a few.
The major attraction for the park is “Big Tree.” It’s worth a visit but make sure your directions are solid before navigating back streets to find it. Protected within its own sturdy wooden fence, this massive coastal live oak towers 44 feet overhead and has a trunk that is a bit over 35 feet in circumference. Great lumbering limbs radiate out from the center like tentacles, some so long and heavy as to require metal supports to rest on. This great grandaddy has seen much of the history we read about in high school, to include Civil War battles, famous hurricanes, and fires too numerous to count. Nobody knows exactly how old this veteran is, but it’s certainly been centuries since it first sprouted. In the 1960’s it was named the State Champion Coastal Live Oak; however, the San Bernard Oak in the San Bernard National Wildlife Refuge dethroned it in 2003. Big Tree still has many stories to tell, and you owe it to yourself to visit this venerable old master when you come to the park. It’s still one of the largest live oak trees in Texas and in the nation.
Park staff go out of their way to keep visitors entertained and educated. If you go, be sure to check the events portion of the park website for a current schedule. Most popular is the weekly shorebird tram tour where visitors get a guided, motorized tour of the most popular ocean bird hangouts along the shore. Other recurring events include star parties and guided birding walks. If none of these floats your boat, the surrounding area offers plenty to do. For example, the Texas Maritime Museum, the Fulton Mansion State Historic Site, and Rockport Beach are all nearby. Rockport is chocked full of art galleries, restaurants, boat excursions and abundant shopping. Easily a day trip, Corpus Christie houses the Texas State Aquarium and the battleship USS Lexington.
Goose Island is a CCC park. The history of the park is one of outstanding achievement and simultaneous national embarrassment. The state acquired land for the park between 1931-1935 by deeds from private landowners. Later the land was set aside by legislative act as a state park. CCC Company 1801 did extensive clearing of undergrowth, planted trees, looked after Big Tree, and accomplished the major preparations to get the place off the ground. But Company 1801, a racially integrated organization, did not finish the park.
Other CCC teams eventually finished much of the infrastructure you see today in the park. The recreation center (originally a concession building) was built of blocks cast from oyster shells used to form the walls and arches, the park roads were constructed and paved with crushed oyster shells, and the park’s picnic areas were artfully finished with thatched roofs of palmetto leaves, giving them a decidedly “tropical” look and feel. They also put in place the entrance portal, tables, benches, bridges, shelters, and the drainage system.
Now for the national embarrassment part. On April Fool’s Day 1935, the U.S. government reconfigured the racially mixed Company 1801 to an all-black African American unit. Racists in nearby communities vehemently objected and took their dissatisfaction all the way to the Vice President of the United States, one John Nance Garner (of Garner State Park fame). The following June, an unfortunate murder associated with the camp was the catalyst for the U.S. Army to quickly transfer Company 1801 to soil conservation work at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio. From that time forward an absolute racial segregation policy was adopted for the CCC nationwide. Black enrollees were henceforth allowed to serve in their states of residence only, while white and Latinos could serve anywhere in the nation. If no standard work assignments could be found for the black companies, they were assigned directly to selected U.S. Army posts to do conservation work there. As contemptable as this was, the battle of bigotry still rages in Texas. It’s sad that there remain citizens who would “purify” state history books to remove such evidence of black subjugation, ignoring reality for the sake of pretense. America’s lowest standard.
So, there you have it—warts and all. One of the saving graces of our state park system is its geographic diversity. Coastal life is far different from waves of prairie grass, thick green forests, desert landscapes or the West Texas mountain ranges—we are truly blessed to have all this within a day’s drive on different points of the compass. For those of you who love the ocean, there are not many state park choices. This one is all about the sea, so when you go be sure to put on your mariner’s hat and savor the experiences that make this park unique.
By Larry Gfeller