Every day, whether the weather is sunny and calm or blustery and gray, my mom and I are heading out to the beach to see what gifts it offers to us.  We both love collecting shells, a hobby that started with my Oma (her mom) and we’ve continued.  When we cleaned out the attic after my Oma and Opa passed away, there were about a dozen five-gallon buckets filled with shells.  At the time, we had so much to sort through, so I took some and we threw the rest away.  I wish I had gone through them more carefully, keeping some of the best ones and, of course, any olives.  But, I’m sure I could fill a dozen buckets with my shell collection now and I’m adding to it each year.

If you want to know what I do with the shells I find, here are a few posts…

decorating with shells in the garden

decorating with shells in the home

 If you missed days one through three of my IOP shelling diaries, you can find that post HERE.  Now, we’re onto day four…

day four

Low tide was at noon, so we made a plan to start shelling at about 10:00.  Well, I was up and ready to go about 7:30, so I decided to set off to see what the storm left behind.  My mom accused me of cheating, but I reminded her that the ocean is open for business anytime for those who are willing.  I walked from our current house in the direction of our favorite shelling area. I found a few things I picked up and there were undeniably more shells than day one, but I wasn’t finding anything super exciting.  A couple walked past me and the gentleman was carrying two large whelk shells.  He lifted them in my direction with a beaming smile, “We found some big ones!” I felt the same irrational panic I do when I shop for antiques.  They beat me to all the good stuff and now I won’t find anything good.  The fact that other beachcombers were finding big whelks was actually a good sign.  I was hopeful the receding tide would reveal more as I made my way further up the beach.

It was interesting to observe how the beach changed along my route and how that impacted the kind of shells that were deposited and where they ended up.  Sometimes, small shells were in large piles that were overwhelming to sift through.  Then, there would be stretches where there was hardly anything.  I found numerous large whelks (ones with holes) and whelk pieces, one after the other, in a stretch of about twenty yards.  Then I would find three or four olive shells all within inches of each other.  It was a good reminder that you need to cover a lot of ground to find good shelling spots.

I was about half a mile from our usual beach access point and I decided to call my mom to see if she wanted to drive down and meet me at the beach access or if I should turn around and walk home.  Jealous of my initiative and success, she opted to join me and we both had a banner shelling day.  The shelling was good on the 1.7-mile walk to our favorite area, but it was even better once I got to that familiar stretch.  Whelks were washing up almost faster than my mom and I could pluck them out of the water.  I tried rushing for a large whelk my mom was going for shouting, “That one is mine!  I saw it first! You just got one!”  We both were so absorbed with the whelk that her shoes and my pants got wet. In hindsight, we were both being a bit childish but she’s in her 70s, so she has no excuse.

As I was combing an area where a bunch of larger shell pieces were collected, I found a surprise.  That gnarly whelk, coated in all sorts of things, found me again!  I showed it to my mom, laughing, and she encouraged me to keep it.  “It wants to be with you.  You should keep it.”  It was unusual to find the exact same shell two days after it was thrown back into the ocean, so I decided to keep it.  I think my mom wanted me to keep it so it sinks my chances of winning the shell collection competition.  I only have about a 2% chance of winning going into it and she wants it to fall to about half a percent so she feels even more secure.

In addition to the abundance of freshly deposited shells in the surf, there were ones scattered higher on the beach at the high tide shell line.  It was hard to know where to look because there were great shells in every direction.  We both found nice, intact whelks, huge olives, and plenty of the varieties of shells we both like to collect.  It was one of our best shelling days ever.  Our bags were bursting and we felt satisfied with our excursion.

In my enthusiasm, I had walked over four miles, and my otherwise comfortable sandals started rubbing a blister on each foot after they got wet. I was going to say it was worth it, but the blisters have been a literal pain and have cramped my barefoot beaching. But what’s done is done.

day five

My blisters were a problem that needed to be addressed before we went out to look for shells.  My mom said I was trying to garner sympathy to get a handicap in the competition.  If I was hoping my mom would feel pity for me over my poor feet, I was mistaken.  She did go with me to the store to buy some waterproof bandaids and pain-relief antibiotic ointment, so I suppose that counts for something.  I tried on some rubber rain boots, which would allow me to still wade in the water, but I decided to get some Sketcher sneakers since they were more fitted and comfortable on the blisters.

Let me tell you, I hate wearing shoes on the beach.  Hate it.  I love the feel of sand under my feet and my flexibility to go into the water.  But, I was on the beach, looking for shells, and that always makes me happy.  Shoes or no shoes.  I did pretty well, dancing with the waves coming in, dodging them to quickly grab an olive shell rolling around in the surf.  I finally came across a challenge, though.  Resting in a tidal pool that was about 8″ deep were two perfect olive shells, nestled together.  I couldn’t get them without getting my feet completely wet.  I spotted some people nearby in bare feet and thought about asking them for assistance, but I didn’t want to be that kind of person!  I wasn’t going to leave those shells, though.  I asked my mom to keep an eye on them and I went up the beach to find a long stick.  The sticks on the beach are scarce, but there are a bunch of dried reeds that washed up with the high tide.  They weren’t as rigid as a stick, but I thought it might work.  The first stick was too short, so I got a longer one and slowly knocked the shells to a spot where I could reach them.  A gentleman from the nearby group of people witnessed my struggle and called over, “Can I get something for you?”

Not all heroes wear capes.  Some wear waterproof sandals and no socks.

He fetched the two olive shells and another one he spotted.  I saw the outline of a half-buried large whelk and asked if he would get that, too.  It is the biggest whelk we have found so far.  “It has a hole in it, so I’m not sure if you want it…”  “Oh, I want it.”

(Can you spot the partially-buried olive shell?)

I found about 25 olives and a bunch of smaller whelks in the tidal pools that were slowly drying as the tide went out.  Shelling in shoes was a little restrictive, but it wasn’t so bad.

Later that day, my brother heard about my blisters and offered some Compeed blister patches.  He carried them in his suitcase after getting blisters when hiking a few years ago and that ended up being a brilliant thing to have in a travel bag.  I stuck them on and now I have waterproof blister protection I can wear in the sand.  It’ll be barefoot shelling tomorrow…

day six

I was thrilled to be able to kick my sandals off once we got onto the beach.  It was one of the warmest days we’ve had, so I even put on a swim shirt and leggings.  With a suit and bare feet, I would be able to wade into the ocean at low tide to fetch whelks or grab olives rolling around in the surf.  I took advantage of that and found a few nice, large whelks when I waded up to my knees. We didn’t find the abundance of shells we did on the previous two days, but it was still a good shelling day.  My sister-in-law joined us and she found a couple of nice, large whelks.  We also found olives, sand dollars, lady’s ears, augers, and a bunch of smaller whelks.

I did find a shell variety I had never found on this beach before.  I had to look it up!  It’s called a Tonna Galea (or a Giant Ton) Shell.  It had a hole in it, but I still picked it up since it was such a unique find.  I learned it’s a deep water sea snail and, since the shell is somewhat delicate, they don’t typically wash up on the beach intact.  At our beach house, there is a basket left by the owners, requesting guests leave a shell collected during their stay.  I decided to leave this shell since it’s a rare find.

As I was trudging through the surf, I realized my blister pads were peeling off.  I was hopeful it wouldn’t be an issue, but when I got home, I saw the pad had peeled off to the point that it opened the biggest and most painful blister.  This blister is so deep, you could practically see into my soul.  So, it was back to shelling in shoes the next day.

day 7 – 9

I mushed the last few shelling days together because my diaries were monotonous.  I did alternate between wearing shoes, which was the pits, and putting an adhesive wound sticker over my blister pads so I could wade in the water.  Day 8, Saturday, was the hottest day of our stay.  It was sticky and the day called for wading and a swimsuit, so I decided to go full beachwear and deal with any consequences.  I’m so glad I did because Sunday was windy, then raining, then stormy, so it was our last day of shelling.

In addition to digging some nice whelks out of the surf, I found the largest olive shell I’ve ever seen.  Calvin said it looked like I Photoshopped it into my hand, but I didn’t.  That’s actually how large it is!

Knowing it was likely our last day out shelling, it was a nice send-off from IOP.

Most of the shells that particular day were in the tide, so it was a good thing I wasn’t wearing shoes.  Mom poor mom just watched me in the surf, pointing at possible targets to explore.  There just wanted much on the shore for her to explore, which is unusual for that stretch of beach.

It was windy but not rainy Sunday morning and, since it was our last day, I decided I would walk on the beach in the morning despite the wind and the fact it was high tide.  It was beautiful in its own way.  I was walking solo because my mom still remembered the sting of the sand from the day we got windblown and blasted with bits of shell.  It wasn’t bad, though.  The blowing sand was minimal and, even though it was high tide, there were a few shells to be found.

While my mom and I organize our beach days around shelling and take over the porch floor with our drying collections, the true highlight is the time we spent with extended family.  At one point, we had 23 people and it was a boisterous bunch.  We played Rummy, Spoons, Bananagrams, chess, and Mariocart.  We painted and drew together.  We played instruments and had a sing-a-long night.  We told family stories and ate low-country cooking specialties.   It was everything a beach house full of family over Spring Break should be.

If you’re interested in shelling this summer, here are some posts…

Tips on Shelling

IOP Shelling Guide