Fisherman’s Co-op Park preserves a little piece of heaven on earth

By Gail Parsons

On the edge of Bryan County’s coastal marshlands, where tidal water winds through spartina grass and the horizon shifts with every breeze, a transformation has taken place. A long-neglected stretch of shoreline has been returned to the public.

What is now known as Fisherman’s Co-op Park is less a traditional park and more a reclaimed meeting point between land, water, and memory. Once a working hub tied to the region’s shrimping industry, the site has been reshaped into a public access point where boaters, anglers, and families can step directly into the rhythms of coastal Georgia without barriers or gates.

For Bryan County Commissioner Carter Infinger, the project represents both practicality and philosophy: a belief that living on the coast should come with the ability to experience it.

“It gives people an opportunity to live on the coast and really enjoy it,” Infinger said. “A lot of times, people own waterfront property, but they don’t have public access. This was our opportunity to change that.”

That idea became the driving force behind a multi-year effort to acquire, clear, and rebuild a parcel of land that had long since faded from its original purpose.

A shoreline with working roots

Long before it became a public park, the site functioned as part of Bryan County’s working waterfront. In its earlier days, it was closely tied to the shrimping industry that once defined much of coastal life in the region. Boats came and went with the tides, unloading catches that fueled local markets and anchored a way of life.

“There was a boom there,” Infinger said, recalling its history. “That’s where a lot of the shrimp folks brought their catch. It was really a gathering place.”

It also served as the backdrop for one of the county’s most recognizable community traditions, the Seafood Festival, which Infinger noted originally began in that very area before moving elsewhere as the waterfront changed.

Like many small coastal working sites, however, time and industry shifts took their toll. Shrimping activity declined, infrastructure aged, and what was once a bustling maritime point gradually fell into disuse. Wooden structures deteriorated. Boat access became unreliable. Eventually, the land stood as a quiet reminder of a past economy rather than an active part of the present one.

From decline to decision

When the property eventually came up for sale, county leaders saw more than just an abandoned waterfront. They saw a rare opportunity in an area where development is happening at a fast pace.

“Now we don't have to worry about the land being destroyed to put houses or condos on it,” Infinger said. “That landing will always be there, just like it is.”

He recalled when he learned the land was for sale. The decision to purchase it was deliberate. Along Georgia’s coast, undeveloped waterfront land is increasingly vulnerable to privatization. He and others in county leadership viewed the acquisition as a way to preserve public access at a time when such access is becoming harder to secure.

He said his first thought was, “Let's figure out how we can do it, not if we can, let's figure out how can we make this work?”

With the county staff behind the project, they went to work. Grants were written, sleeves were rolled up, old, deteriorating structures were removed, and the shoreline began to take shape.

Old, deteriorating structures were removed. The shoreline was reworked for safety and usability. In their place, a new public recreation area began to take shape.

Rebuilding for public use

Today, Fisherman’s Co-op Park looks and functions very differently from its former life. Walking trails cut through the property, guiding visitors toward open views of marsh and water. A pavilion offers shaded space for gatherings, picnics, and quiet observation of the tide. Fishing areas and docks extend access directly into the water.

Perhaps most notably, the park includes four boat ramps allowing small craft to launch directly into coastal waterways.

“That’s a big deal,” Infinger said. “We’ve got four boat ramps there for people to put their boats in and go out and enjoy the water. And it’s free to the public.”

In a region where waterfront access is often limited or privately controlled, the availability of free, public boat launches has become one of the park’s most valued features.

The scale of the project is modest, roughly six to eight acres, but its impact is outsized in a county where shoreline access points are limited.

Funding for the redevelopment came in part through a grant from the Georgia Outdoor Stewardship Program, administered by the Georgia Department of Natural Resources. But Infinger emphasized that the project’s success also depended heavily on county staff.

“A lot of our employees did the work themselves,” he said. “That saved us several million dollars.”

Fisherman’s Co-op Park was developed in phases, beginning with core infrastructure: ramps, trails, and basic amenities. Future plans include expanded walking paths, additional docks—possibly floating docks—and further improvements to back trail systems.

“Phase two would be more docks, more trails, maybe some back trails,” Infinger said. “We’re always looking at how to improve it.”

While there is no fixed endpoint, the vision remains consistent: expand access without compromising the natural character of the land.

A landscape shaped by marsh and movement

What defines Fisherman’s Co-op Park now is not infrastructure alone, but its setting. The site opens onto a broad expanse of marsh, where water shifts constantly with tide and wind.

Infinger describes it in simple terms: “You look out there and see the ocean, the marsh, the sunrises. It’s beautiful. People can just go sit, relax, and enjoy it.”

The park was designed to encourage that kind of unhurried engagement. Benches and picnic areas are positioned to face the water. Trails lead to observation points where the marsh stretches outward in layered greens and golds.

Wildlife is a constant presence. Sea turtles are occasionally spotted and manatees, though less commonly seen, are known to travel through coastal Georgia waters during seasonal movement patterns.

“I’ve never seen one there,” Infinger admitted, “but they’re here.”

Their presence adds another layer to the park’s identity, not just as a recreational space, but as part of a larger ecological corridor.

With increased public access comes increased responsibility. Manatees, in particular, are federally protected under both the Marine Mammal Protection Act of 1972 and the Endangered Species Act of 1973. Visitors are encouraged to maintain distance, avoid interference, and report sightings to wildlife authorities.

While Infinger did not dwell on regulations, the underlying message is clear: access to the water is paired with stewardship of what lives within it.

That balance, use and protection, is central to the park’s design philosophy. The land is meant to be used, but not consumed; enjoyed, but not exhausted.

Community investment and quiet support

Like many public infrastructure projects, Fisherman’s Co-op Park drew a range of reactions during its development. But Infinger said community support ultimately outweighed skepticism.

“For the most part, people were for it,” he said. “They understand, we live on the coast. If you don’t have access to the water, why live here?”

That sentiment reflects a broader coastal identity in Georgia, where waterways are not just scenery but part of daily life and cultural memory.

The park is also not limited to county residents. It is open to the public, with usage monitored through security systems and maintained by county crews and contracted maintenance teams.

“There are cameras out there,” Infinger noted. “We monitor it. We keep it safe.”

In many ways, the park reflects the philosophy that brought it into being. It is not a highly commercialized attraction or a heavily programmed recreational complex. Instead, it is a place defined by what it allows people to do simply: launch a boat, sit under a pavilion, watch the tide move in and out.

Infinger sees it as one of his most meaningful projects.

“I’m super proud of it,” he said. “It really came out well.”

And in that quiet pride is a larger truth about coastal development in places like Bryan County. Progress, in this case, is measured by what is preserved.

For visitors, the park offers a direct line to water, sky, and marsh, and a reminder that access to nature is not guaranteed unless it is intentionally protected.

As Infinger put it, “If you live on the coast, you should be able to get to it.”