By Paul Tollefson

Mr. Abraham “Preston” Driessen

The marshes of the Lowcountry have always carried a quiet beauty. At first light, the water lies still as glass, broken only by the slow pull of the tide and the distant cry of marsh birds rising from the grass. To those who worked these waters, the creeks and rivers were more than scenery. They were a livelihood.

For Hilton Head Island oysterman Abraham Preston Driessen, the marsh was where life was lived.

Driessen was 69 years old in the winter of 1981, a man who had spent most of his years working the tides along the creeks and rivers that wind through the Lowcountry. Like many watermen before him, he worked from a small wooden bateau, moving quietly through the marsh in search of oyster beds exposed by the falling tide.

The work was not easy. Oystermen gathered their catch from the muddy banks at low tide, breaking loose clusters of oysters and loading them by hand into the flat bottom boat. When the bateau grew heavy with shells, the long ride back through the creeks would begin.

Those who knew the work understood that the marsh could be as unforgiving as it was beautiful.

On the morning of February 24, 1981, Preston Driessen pushed away from Bailey’s Landing and headed toward the oyster beds near the mouth of Sawmill Creek. The narrow creek winds its way through tall marsh grass before feeding into the Okatee and Colleton rivers, waters that eventually find their way to Port Royal Sound.

Two fellow oystermen saw him that morning as they worked nearby beds. It was the last time anyone would see him alive.

When Driessen failed to return home, concern quickly spread among family members and friends. His son Robert, who had traveled from Atlanta to help with the search, joined relatives and local watermen combing the creeks and marshes for any sign of the missing oysterman.

Small boats worked their way through the winding tidal channels while others searched the broader waters of the Colleton and Okatee rivers. Helicopters and airplanes passed overhead, scanning the endless stretches of marsh grass below.

But the Lowcountry marsh is vast and quiet, and it does not easily give up its secrets.

Days passed with no trace of Driessen or his boat.

The first clue came when a plastic water jug belonging to the oysterman was discovered in the marsh near the mouth of the Colleton River. The discovery renewed the search, and shrimp boats joined the effort, dragging the waterways in hopes of locating the missing boat.

Not long afterward, searchers found Driessen’s 16-foot oyster bateau resting on the bottom of Sawmill Creek in roughly 30 feet of water, about half a mile from where he had last been seen. Apparently, the small wooden boat had capsized as he worked the tides.

Still, the search continued.

Nearly two weeks after the day he disappeared, Driessen’s body was recovered from the Okatee River not far from Harrison’s Island. The Beaufort County coroner later ruled that the veteran waterman had drowned while working alone on the water.

Funeral services for Abraham Preston Driessen were held at First African Baptist Church on Hilton Head Island. He was laid to rest in Stoney Cemetery, within sight of the waterways that had shaped his life.

For generations, men like Mr. Preston Driessen worked these rivers quietly, pushing their bateaus through the marsh at dawn and returning home with the turning tide. It was a hard life built on skill, patience, and respect for the water.

And the marsh remembers them all.

Approval for Mr. Driessen’s story was granted by the living relatives.