Understanding Beaufort: The Beaufort Marine Institute

"Marine" in the title does not refer to the U.S. Marines, nor to a place where boats are worked on. Most people driving up U.S. 17 past Lobeco see the sign on the right and probably have no idea what it might refer to. But the Beaufort Marine Institute has helped mend the lives of hundreds of "troubled" boys who might otherwise have continued to go wrong. The BMI is indeed an institute, in the old sense of a place where students are taught proper conduct, and it does have a connection with the sea.

The physical plant is not unlike a Boy Scout camp–intentionally Spartan, utilitarian, without frills. Signs along the vehicle path in the grounds of the BMI name such virtues as "Loyalty," "Family," "Honesty," "Integrity,"
"Diversity," "Leadership," "Enthusiasm," "Dedication," "Creativity," "Safety." All those virtues are taken seriously here. An air of military discipline and orderliness energizes the whole place. Here are dormitories, there is the administration building; there is the donated swimming pool to teach the kids how to avoid scary situations at sea, there is the mess-hall; and there are the classroom buildings with small libraries and banks of donated computers.

In between the buildings are sandy soil and tall pines. We are on an island, a sea island accessed by a causeway, not far from deep water; but we are also in the boondocks, miles from any town’s temptations, down a dirt road. The kids who come here, boys between the ages of 14 and 17, have all been in trouble more than once. They grow to like the quiet seclusion.

Within the last fiscal year, 2005-2006, the BMI had an amazing 100% completion rate, which means that all of the students who graduated in 2006 have remained for their whole term. Also, only about 28% of recent graduates (they graduate in about five months, and return to their homes) are repeat offenders. The BMI is a model for other recovery programs around the state. BMI represents a desirable place, not a Dickensian group home, and the atmosphere there is more like a family than of an institution.

The young men come from Charleston as well as Walterboro, and from Columbia as well as from Yemasee: they may be street smart or farm wise. They may have arrived tough and lacking in respect for father, mother, or any older member of society. They may have come out of a drug-dealing gang that offered them an appealing home on the street as compared with a home without a father, or a home with alcoholism or crime ever-present. Some have sold marijuana or cocaine in various forms; some have been led into fights which the law calls assaults. All have probation officers who have provided their names and files to the BMI for possible admission.

When I asked one of the boys what his offense was, Dariell’s voice and face dropped as he answered me, "Yes sir, I was busted for possession AND selling marijuana." He was obviously ashamed and embarrassed. The attitude of the boys towards their crimes and misdemeanors seems to be one of genuine contrition and confession, not one of hardened pride in criminal achievement.

The name Beaufort Marine Institute might also be a little misleading because the local chapter, founded in the 1980s, is now part of the Associated Marine Institutes, based in Tampa, Florida. The AMI originated in Boca Raton under the auspices of Florida Atlantic University’s Florida Ocean Sciences Program, and it took shape with the guidance of a benevolent judge trying in 1968 to find something useful and educational for troubled kids to do (to take them to sea, among other things, and show them the necessarily-disciplined life of a sailor under command): thus the "Marine."

The BMI aims to be a successful home for wayward boys, taking kids with budding criminal careers and setting a strict rule over them, trying to help with what is called the unified approach–concentrating on their education; channeling their teen energy into sports, camping, and meaningful labor; and taking them out to sea after they have learned swimming, diving, and other maritime skills.

Of course rules are necessary, more than in a Boy Scout camp. Students get in line and march to breakfast or the work-place; they announce when they are leaving a building; they answer adults always with "Yes, sir," or "Yes, ma’am." They introduce themselves politely to strangers.

What I have observed while becoming a Board member is that at the BMI "behavior modification" is a positive thing. The institution builds mutual respect for adults and for the other boys. The boys learn self-discipline, they begin to practice politeness and mutual respect as a way of life, they accept military or marine models of rank and rewards, and they come to understand that hard and gratifying work is in itself the better alternative than a life of petty crime. They certainly leave believing in the value of education. When I have asked a group of four kids whether they want to go to college, they all said "Yes sir," without hesitation.

BMI is very much about role-models, and the teachers and administrators there try to be good models. The 32-member staff of the BMI represent kindly father-figures or mother-figures, administers of compassion rather than just keepers of rule-books. They may offer the first evidence of loving kindness a tough boy has ever experienced.

One of the best models, judging by the boys’ enthusiasm for his teaching, is Larry Peck, a retired biochemical engineer, a grandfatherly type who knows everything about boats and seamanship, takes them out and gives lessons in marine life, the way a grandfather should. The kids admire him, and he has affection for them. Together, they re-build marine engines and paint donated boats so that they can be used or sold to help raise money for BMI. The boys are learning useful, marketable skills, and they love to learn from Larry. "I have one kid who wants to study underwater welding," Larry told me, "and that pays well, even if it is dangerous." As I watched, Larry showed several of the kids how to hold and cast a shrimp net from the campus dock, and we even brought up a few shrimp. "The kids love him," Amy Nevells, Director of the BMI, tells me. Meanwhile, the kids working for her or for Larry earn "recognition points" for such virtues as leadership, good attitude, respect, appearance, and participation, and those points help them rise in the ranks. By the time they leave, very few of the boys should be called "troubled" any longer.

The boats and engines Larry and the kids paint and restore to working order have all been donated by local individuals or businesses. Of course the Beaufort Marine Institute takes cash donations as well (call 843-846-2128), and the BMI Board of Trustees sponsors a very popular croquet tournament at Bray’s Island every spring, which this year raised more than $30,000 for operating expenses. There is no greater asset to the Beaufort community than the Beaufort Marine Institute.