15 Coastal South Carolina Shrimp Shacks Locals Keep In Their Back Pocket
South Carolina isn’t just about beaches and golf courses. This is the Palmetto State, and along its coast, shrimp reigns supreme. Tucked inside weathered shacks, behind sun-faded signs, and scattered through quiet fishing towns, these humble spots serve more than seafood.
They serve tradition, history, and pure Southern soul. I quickly learned that locals don’t merely eat shrimp here. They revere it.
Many of these shacks have been frying the same family recipes for generations, long before seafood became social-media chic. One bite of buttery, garlicky shrimp and it all clicks: this isn’t just a meal.
It’s a rite of passage. A fiercely local secret of the Palmetto State that just might change how you see coastal Carolina forever.
1. Bowen’s Island Restaurant
Here’s the thing about Bowen’s Island Restaurant: the road meanders out like a promise, and the marsh greets you before the menu does.
Tucked at 1870 Bowens Island Rd, Charleston, SC 29412, it’s a ramshackle dream hovering over pluff mud and tide whispers. I stepped inside and the air tasted like wood smoke and warm butter, a reminder that patience is the secret marinade.
I ordered shrimp two ways, because saying no felt rude to the view.
The peel-and-eats arrived glowing pink, seasoned with a peppery kick that kept me reaching back. Then the fried basket landed, each shellfish tucked into a cornmeal coat that shattered with a polite crunch, and I swear the hushpuppies hummed.
Bring someone who understands the language of napkins and quiet, and let the shrimp teach you about timing. The slaw bites back just enough, the fries give you a salty grin, and the cocktail sauce doesn’t apologize.
2. Folly Beach Crab Shack
I rolled onto Folly with sunscreen still on my elbow and a craving I couldn’t shake.
The Folly Beach Crab Shack at 26 Center St, Folly Beach, SC 29439 sits like a sunburned friend who knows exactly what you need. Inside, the soundtrack is clatter, laughter, and a hint of Old Bay riding the breeze.
I went for a shrimp platter that arrived like a parade, piled high, lemon wedges standing at attention.
The fried shrimp snapped with that delicate crunch, while the steamed batch leaned citrusy and clean, a tide pool of flavor in a basket.
Hushpuppies, honey-buttered, disappeared faster than my resolve.
Between bites, I watched surfers drip past the window, boards under arms, and everyone looked like they’d made peace with the day. The staff moved with a practiced, good-natured hustle, sliding sauces and refills before I knew I needed them.
It felt like a place built for sandy feet and big appetites.
Get the shrimp and grits if you’re flirting with comfort; it’s creamy, peppery, and steadying, like a hand on your shoulder.
Or keep it simple with peel-and-eats and a side of corn, letting the steam fog your glasses. When I left, the salt air stuck around, and I knew I’d come back the next time the ocean called me by name.
3. Shrimp Shack
Every local I met near Beaufort smirked when I asked about lunch like they were guarding treasure.
Shrimp Shack at 1925 Sea Island Pkwy, Saint Helena Island, SC 29920 stares down the highway with the confidence of a legend. I pulled in behind a line of pickup trucks and felt like I’d shown up to the right rumor.
The shrimp burger is the move, and yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like.
Chopped shrimp, seasoned, griddled, and tucked into a bun that soaks up the ocean’s opinion, somehow both delicate and sturdy.
I added a basket of fried shrimp, lightly battered, sweet as a good secret.
The counter crew was quick with smiles and straight talk, steering me toward the tartar and a side of slaw with proper tang. Picnic tables sat under live oaks, the shade stitched together by moss and gull chatter.
I ate fast, then slow, because some meals demand a re-read.
There’s no pretense here, just shrimp doing what shrimp should do, which is taste like the water two miles away.
Bring cash, bring appetite, and bring a friend who trusts your roadside instincts. I left with crumbs on my shirt and a new personal policy: if a place looks like this, order twice.
4. SeeWee Restaurant
Driving north past the marsh lines felt like browsing old family photos. SeeWee Restaurant at 4808 N Hwy 17, Awendaw, SC 29429 looks like a country store that learned to fry shrimp properly.
I walked in and the room smelled like hushpuppy dreams and a fryer that keeps good secrets.
I started with the shrimp basket and a side of collards, because balance is a way of life.
The batter had that peppery whisper, thin and loyal, letting the shrimp’s sweetness stand tall. Collards came silky and honest, and the cornbread strutted in with a golden edge.
Photos on the wall told stories that didn’t need captions, just a nod.
My plate disappeared in stages, the kind of steady vanishing act that tells you you’re exactly where you should be.
Finish with key lime pie if you understand the art of ending strong. Or don’t, and order another round of shrimp because restraint is optional here.
When I left, the highway seemed friendlier, like it knew I’d been fed by people who care about the right kind of crisp.
5. T.W. Graham & Co. Seafood Restaurant
McClellanville wears its salt on its sleeve and doesn’t bother with pretense.
T.W. Graham & Co.
Seafood Restaurant at 810 Pinckney St, McClellanville, SC 29458 holds court like a small-town captain. Inside, the walls tell fish stories and the menu proves them.
I ordered shrimp and grits because the tide insisted, and the bowl arrived creamy, pepper-flecked, and unapologetically generous.
The shrimp were plump and patient, seared just past tender, carrying that brackish whisper you only get near working docks. A side of hushpuppies landed crisp and mellow, like good advice you actually take.
The room hummed with locals catching up, a steady rhythm of forks and gossip.
A kid at the next table counted shrimp like treasure, and everyone pretended not to notice. I took my time, because this is a place that rewards it.
Before leaving, I grabbed a glance at the river and understood why they cook like this: unhurried, sure-handed, honest.
If you need a meal that reminds you of the coastline’s backbone, you’ll find it here. On the drive out, the marsh grasses waved in approval and I waved back, full and certain.
6. Bubba’s Fish Camp & Smokehouse
Myrtle Beach buzzes like a boardwalk arcade, and I leaned into the noise with a grin. Bubba’s Fish Camp & Smokehouse at 1565 21st Ave N, Myrtle Beach, SC 29577 is the loud friend who somehow feeds you best.
I slid into a booth and watched platters fly like they had somewhere important to be.
I kept the focus on shrimp, ordering a fried basket and a blackened skewer for balance.
The fry was bright and crisp, no grease guilt, just a clean snap and a tender center that tasted like beach day ambition. Blackened shrimp brought smoky heat, char edges kissing citrus, a swagger of spice without the regret.
Families traded bites and stories, and the staff moved like a choreographed tide, always in the right place at the right time.
Sides stacked up: fries crunchy, slaw perky, and hushpuppies with a hidden sweetness. I paused only to plan what I’d repeat next time.
This is a crowd-pleaser in the best way, where everyone gets what they want and leaves bragging. Order heavy, share broadly, and claim your favorites early.
7. Lee’s Inlet Kitchen
Murrells Inlet is where patience pays off in plate form. Lee’s Inlet Kitchen at 4460 Highway 17 Business, Murrells Inlet, SC 29576 has been perfecting the art of golden since before my appetite learned manners.
I slid into a booth under framed history and felt like I’d been admitted to a secret club.
The fried shrimp came first, and the crust had that whisper-thin crunch that lets the meat do the talking. Each bite was clean and sweet, lifted by tartar with a sly twang and lemon that didn’t need to shout.
Hushpuppies arrived like warm punctuation, honeyed and crisp-edged.
What struck me was the calm confidence of the room, a steady hum of regulars, servers who know names, and plates that never try too hard.
I added broiled shrimp to see the other side, buttery and tender with a little paprika smile. The sides were classic coastal company: slaw, fries, and a roll that kept its promises.
This is where you take people you like and teach them about restraint, because you’ll want to order everything. Start with shrimp, end with shrimp, and let the kitchen show you the spectrum.
8. Hudson’s Seafood House On The Docks
Hilton Head’s waterways are basically a runway for appetite. Hudson’s Seafood House On The Docks at 1 Hudson Rd, Hilton Head Island, SC 29926 sits right where the boats bring the good news.
I arrived as the light turned honey and felt the room lean toward the water.
Peel-and-eat shrimp is the headliner here, and it hits like a postcard from the dock. Firm, sweet, and gently seasoned, they peel clean, dropping shells like confetti in the paper-lined tray.
The sauce leans horseradish-forward in the best possible way.
I added a platter of fried shrimp for contrast and found that perfect briny cushion under a crisp jacket. Fries did their duty and the slaw cut through like a cool breeze.
The view did the rest, trawlers nodding in agreement as the tide slipped past.
If you want seafood with receipts, this is where provenance sits on every plate. Come early for the view, stay late for the second round, and do not skip the lemon squeeze.
I walked out with sea air in my pockets and a new respect for simple done right.
9. Skull Creek Boathouse
Skull Creek Boathouse is where dinner gets a front row seat to a sky show. Sitting at 397 Squire Pope Rd, Hilton Head Island, SC 29926, it feels like a party that invited the marsh.
I claimed a deck table and pretended I lived there.
The shrimp options stretch from classic fried to playful tacos, and I did the only reasonable thing: both. The fried version wore a crisp coat that let the sweetness ring, while the tacos stacked avocado, pico, and a limey swagger that kept me grinning.
Every bite matched the view’s confidence.
Service moved with a breezy rhythm, refills appearing like good timing, not choreography. Families snapped photos, boats drifted by, and somewhere, a kid announced that he was officially a shrimp person now.
I nodded in spiritual solidarity and reached for another.
This spot is equal parts scene and substance, a rare balance that makes you linger. Get there before sunset, let the sky sauce your meal, and say yes to whatever the server recommends.
Leaving felt like stepping away from a postcard that had my name in the corner.
10. Fishcamp On Broad Creek
Some places whisper, and Fishcamp on Broad Creek sings soft harmony.
At 11 Simmons Rd, Hilton Head Island, SC 29926, the deck leans over the water like it was always meant to. I found a table under string lights and let the evening pick the pace.
I started with shrimp and grits, velvety and pepper-kissed, the shrimp seared just enough to carry a little caramel.
Then I circled back to a fried basket because curiosity is a virtue, finding a batter that respected the shrimp’s sweetness. The plate felt both homestyle and finely tuned, like a well-rehearsed band.
Servers navigated with easy warmth, pointing out the boats easing by and a heron that clearly owned the place.
Conversation from nearby tables rose and fell like the tide, gentle, content, unhurried. I realized I hadn’t checked my phone in fifteen minutes, which counts as vacation magic.
If you crave Lowcountry comfort with a view, this is your duet.
11. The Crazy Crab (Harbour Town)
Harbour Town has a way of making every meal feel like a victory lap. The Crazy Crab at 149 Lighthouse Rd, Hilton Head Island, SC 29928 sets up under the famous lighthouse like it has home field advantage.
I grabbed a table with a view and leaned into the spectacle.
Peel-and-eat shrimp arrived steaming and confident, shells slipping easily as the harbor chimed in with gulls and clinks.
The seasoning leaned savory with a citrus wink, and the cocktail sauce had enough kick to keep me honest. I alternated with fried shrimp, chasing crisp with clean brine.
Kids pointed toward boats, couples pointed toward dessert, and I pointed toward another wedge of lemon. The staff moved like they’d memorized every little timing trick, keeping plates hot and moods cooler than the breeze.
Everything tasted like it belonged exactly where it landed.
Come for the landmark, stay for the consistency, and time it for the golden hour if you can.
You’ll leave with souvenir-level satisfaction and fingers that smell faintly of the Atlantic. I walked off down the pier feeling buoyant, like the tide had co-signed my choices.
12. The Wreck Of The Richard & Charlene
Mount Pleasant’s working waterfront still clangs with the music of nets and engines.
The Wreck of the Richard & Charlene at 106 Haddrell St, Mount Pleasant, SC 29464 keeps its charm weathered and sincere. I settled into a chair that probably knew more stories than I do.
The shrimp here tastes like a handshake with the harbor.
Fried is the easiest win, with a batter that stands back and lets briny sweetness headline, while grilled brings a smoky nod that doesn’t crowd the plate. Sides arrive classic and unbothered, with hushpuppies that should negotiate peace treaties.
Windows frame shrimp boats like portraits, and the room is filled with locals who measure time in tides.
My server suggested a squeeze of lemon and a pause to watch the water, which turned out to be perfect advice. I obeyed, then returned to the basket like a good student.
It’s not fancy, and that’s the power.
You come to taste the coast without subtitles, and you get exactly that. Leaving, I could still hear the rattle of rigging and felt oddly reassured, like I’d eaten proof.
13. Dockside Restaurant (Lady’s Island Dockside)
Beaufort’s water sneaks into your plans in the best way. Dockside Restaurant at 71 Sea Island Pkwy, Beaufort, SC 29907 sits over the river like it knows how good it looks.
I watched the sun paint the surface while a basket of shrimp set the tone.
The fried shrimp struck a perfect middle note, crisp outside, sweet inside, nothing showy, everything right. I chased it with broiled shrimp that carried butter and a whisper of spice, each bite clean and steady.
Fries kept up, slaw refreshed, and hushpuppies echoed with a molasses hint.
Families took slow walks on the dock between courses, and the staff seemed genuinely happy you were hungry. A breeze drifted across my plate and I let it, because why fight charm.
I took my time and ended up finishing everything without realizing I’d won.
If you’re chasing river light and honest seafood, this is a comfortable bullseye.
Claim a deck table, say yes to lemon, and trust the cooks to steer you right. Walking into the evening, I felt tidier somehow, like the water had ironed out my edges.
14. Fishcamp On 11th Street
Port Royal felt like a postcard that never tries too hard. Fishcamp on 11th Street at 1699 11th St, Port Royal, SC 29935 sets its tables where the boats do the talking.
I parked, exhaled, and let the breeze decide what I’d order.
I started with grilled shrimp, char-laced and lemon-bright, tasting like the dock’s own shorthand. Then I edged into fried territory because curiosity is undefeated, finding a batter so light it practically applauded the shrimp.
Sides behaved like loyal friends, especially the slaw with its crisp confidence.
Kids counted pelicans while grownups counted blessings, and the soundtrack was clinks, laughter, and soft water sounds.
My server recommended lingering, which I executed flawlessly with another wedge of lemon. The second half of the basket somehow tasted even better.
This is a porch-swing kind of meal, unhurried and deeply satisfying. Let the boats keep time, let your plate stay interesting, and trust the kitchen to carry the melody.
When I left, Battery Creek held the light like a secret and I walked off feeling quietly lucky.
15. The Sea Shack
Some of the best bites hide behind the simplest doors. The Sea Shack at 6B Executive Park Dr, Hilton Head Island, SC 29928 wears its humility like a trophy.
I joined the line, eavesdropped on local orders, and vowed to copy the smartest person ahead of me.
The fried shrimp here could teach a master class.
The crust stays crisp from first bite to last, and the shrimp tastes fresh enough to make you blink. Sides are sturdy co-stars: red rice, slaw, and hushpuppies that nod to sweetness without tipping over.
It’s counter service, quick smiles, and zero fluff, which means all the attention stays on what matters. I snagged a table and watched a parade of regulars do their efficient ritual, tray, sauces, napkins, victory.
My basket vanished and I re-checked the menu like I hadn’t just eaten the point.
If you chase substance over spectacle, this is your north star.
By the time I left, I wasn’t just full. I was officially indoctrinated into South Carolina’s shrimp-obsessed club.
And honestly? I kind of liked that feeling of having a salty, buttery little secret all to myself.