You can’t sell sea shells by the sea shore these days
You could row a coconut raft to the reef it was so calm. I remember the day, the few clouds were reflected in the deep, the shimmer of reef colour in the shallows, I loved it.
It simply made you want to immerse yourself in its hidden wonders. Our skipper Col Hodson asked me to come for a snorkel over the reef bowl, it was only 4 or 5 metres, and as clear as a spring dawn after the rain.
Myrmidon reef is truly one of our local natural masterpieces. When I say local, I don’t mean you can whip out there on an orange scooter, a little far out (like this column), it’s a magnificent wilderness on the outer reef. We went snorkelling to see the giant clams. Transplanted from Orpheus Island apparently and now what appeared to be acres of them, spread across the clear sands of the sheltered area of Myrmidon.
I doubt they are there now, after all these years and the many cyclones. It was an incredible sight, blessed to see it. They are the most magnificent creatures, incredible colour, size of a volksy , and with a mantle that makes velvet feel like sandpaper.
But what of the shell when the occupier moves on? Yes they breakup and turn to sand, or maybe the smaller ones wash up on the beach and become mobiles or candle holders. I’ve always wondered the laws on shell collecting. National Parks and Marine Parks are a no no which is fair, sacred land as well, and of course if they are occupied! But what of our local beaches…. I reckon why not? Herewith, a probable letter to the Editor begins about Pricey and his shells. No worries, its Steven with a V.
My girl finds heaps of cowries, the cowrie queen I call her, why let them be battered into rubble when we can admire the greatest of artisans work. I love the local shell club exhibits, my dear mum had heaps, and I have no idea where she got them. They’re beauties. Now all over the house for the dog to trip over. I told of mum s love for shells to a wonderful mate of mine years ago, a trawler man, and he gave mum the most amazing cone shell brought up empty from the deep. The owner moving on to better premises I guess. He would polish them up wonderfully, better for mum to enjoy than be lost to eternity, and I reckon the builder would be proud to. Thanks to the late Neil Thomson, I still have the shell, and I think of mum and Neil whenever I look at it. It takes two of us to lift the thing so I can listen to the ocean…the size of it I can hear all oceans. On that point, do mums and dads still tell the kids to lift a shell to their ear to hear the ocean???? Make sure its empty first if you do by the way.
I still listen, and I still believe it… fair dinkum, but then again, I can hear the seagulls too. Better than a mobile phone eh.
As Berty Boy said: “Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions”. Albert Einstein.
There was another occasion when someone found a shell. We were diving off Bay Rock collecting algae rock for the aquarium, a wonderful man Chick Henderson surfaced and said “Pricey, heaps shells down here, want one?”
I said “No Chick, leave them if they are alive”. Typical Chick, great diver, he bought up the shell staying “I hope its dead Pricey”
It was a bomb shell.
There’s heaps out there. Don’t listen to the ocean in one of them!!!! Happy Days Ooroo