So excited to feature a guest blog post from my good friend Judy! (See my post from last winter - Just Beachy) Judy and her husband Gordon invited Tom and I over for a Christmas brunch. Not only did we get a fascinating sea lion show from their dining room, I got a first hand look at her gorgeous shell treasures from New Zealand. Judy is one lucky lucky lady, to have the opportunity to travel and pick up seashells from around the world! Can you tell, I might be just the teeniest bit envious?
Confessions of a Shellaholic....
OK, I confess. I am
unashamedly a full-blown shellaholic. And I know I’m not alone. Many of you
reading this know what I mean when I say I love everything about shells – how
they feel in my hands, how each one is different, how incredibly they travel
thousands of miles before I find them and how, even with broken parts and rough
edges, they are truly beautiful.
Show me a beach and while
I’ll admire the sea and the setting, my eyes also will be cast downward in
search of one of God’s treasures. I’ve collected shells on every beach I’ve
ever seen, so when I had the chance to explore new beaches while attending a
conference in New Zealand, I was in beachcomber heaven.
I was particularly excited to
learn that New Zealand has what might be called a “national shell” that is used
in beautiful jewelry and is an iconic design in many other forms of art from
pottery to silver. It’s the Paua, a small, particularly colorful abalone, so
not only was I on the hunt for such a shell, but I was determined to bring home
a piece of Paua jewelry.
When I’m in a foreign
country, such as New Zealand, I try to be a discreet sheller. I’m never sure
how the locals feel about my taking shells off their beaches or what they’d
think about some of them finding their way to Gig Harbor, Washington. So – no pails
or buckets for me. Instead, I’ve got a lightweight jacket with a ton of inside
pockets, plus long sleeves that zip off to become a vest for warmer days. I
line those pockets with plastic Ziploc bags and I’m ready to discreetly collect
my treasures … that is, after I’ve checked the local laws to make sure it’s OK.
New Zealand’s north island
has beaches on both the South Pacific Ocean and Tasman Sea. Playing hooky from
meetings one day, we took the train east to Paraparaumu, a small beach town on
the Kapiti Coast that faces an island wildlife reserve. We hit the beach on a
windy but sunny day and had it to ourselves. We oohed and ahhed over the
driftwood until we began to find beautiful striated shells that my shell
encyclopedia says are Pacific Tritons. There were other colorful shells – clams
and scallops and cones as well -- and before long, my jacket was bulging with
shells that never would have found their way to my beach in Gig Harbor except
in my pockets.
Other memorable shelling
beaches were up north in the Bay of Islands, an archipelago where we spent five
days with the Maori, the indigenous people of New Zealand who still practice
their native culture. Each day, I wandered a different beach in my vest,
finding flat scallops, colorful umboniums, terinas, terebras, augers and
portions of pen shells. On one beach, almost every shell bore shades of blue;
on another the shells were striped orange and white. I tried to be selective,
but it was hard to resist them.
Shelling on a group tour can
be problematic because shells need to be washed to eliminate unpleasant odors.
So every afternoon I washed, sorted and dried my shells anywhere I could in our
hotel room – the counter, the tub, the back of the toilet. But this wasn’t work
– it was like sifting through a box of jewels.
We stayed with friends near
Auckland before coming home, and I took that opportunity to soak my shells in
bleach and dry them in the sun. But wait – they live at Snells Beach, so there
I was, gathering more and more because our hosts helped me fill my pockets.
While all this shelling was
fun, we still wondered how we’d get all these little gems home. We’d collected
nine pounds all told, and both our suitcases were already very close to the
5pound limit. What to do? We decided to divvy them up – put some in our
checked bags and some in our carry-ons. We didn’t have to declare them – they
weren’t fruit, vegetables, meat or living creatures, so the trip home was
without incident.
Now I have shells that I will
simply admire for their beauty and also use in my shell art for Just Beachy.
And I revel in the knowledge that these aren’t shells I bought from an online
shell store in Florida; I picked these myself (my sore back was proof positive!),
washed and sorted them, and will forever remember the wonderful beaches of New
Zealand where I found them.
Yes, I’m a shellaholic and
like another “aholic” we hear about, I found New Zealand’s beaches to be my own
personal “open bar.”
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