Giant Clams and Elephants

Island Elephants

Memorial Day has come and gone and the tourist season is officially begun. Every year, at this time, I try to put forth some gentle reminders for both tourists and locals.

Tourists:
* Top speed on Shelter Island is 40mph, unless you're a local man in a truck, then it's 65mph. On the surface, that seems a bit unfair. It is unfair below the surface as well, but it's an elephant in the living room, more accurately an elephant on the Island, that we just don't talk about.
* Many of you bring your bikes to ride and that is very nice. And if there's a gaggle of you (seven or more) riding in a group, you may take up a lane on the road and none of the cars will try to go around you. If you're biking in a smaller group, like three, you'd better ride single file and stay way over on the right or risk being hit by one of the aforementioned elephants.
* Courtesy is the key to the Island. Locals may fight and feud, but cutting someone off in traffic, or cutting in any line, or failing to yell to them that they left their coke on top of their car before they get into it, is just not done. So when you're in a food store and a local worker is behind you with his sandwich, bag of cheetos and a drink, and you have a cart full of groceries, let him go ahead of you. He has a 30 minute lunch and is probably going to bolt his sandwich down in the truck, so give the working people a break. And remember, don't make any comments about how the workmen smell. Sweat is the scent of honest work. Not to mention, you will so regret having made a snide comment if you see that same worker fixing your deck later that day. Any worker will tell you that rudeness seems to increase the time or cost needed to complete a task. On the surface, that seems a bit unfair. It is unfair below the surface as well, but it's another elephant on the Island.
* To the visiting women. We know you're here to feel free and have a wonderful time. However, there is a weight and age limit to belly shirts, thongs, sleeveless tanks, short shorts and going braless. If you're over 18 or over 110 pounds, you're over the limit. I myself, was only qualified to wear short shorts for one day in third grade, and then only for a half hour.

Locals:
* Attention MIT's (Men in Trucks); please don't paint those little symbols of bikes, tiny cars and jogging tourists with the big "X"'s through them on the side of your truck this year. It scares people. Please just keep score by carving a notch in your dashboard this year and an accounting will be done after Labor Day, at someone's end of summer barbecue.
* Ladies; please refrain from beating tourists who are taking too long at the Deli counter in IGA with the baguettes . It's childish and unbecoming. If you jam them in the back of the ankles with the cart like I do, they hobble away in pain, which effectively takes them out of line and you can claim the whole thing was an accident. Also, why waste those lovely baguettes?
* We all love shells. Last week I wrote about the loss of shells on the Island beaches, after the article came out - it occurred to me that a big part of the problem is probably tourist women stealing our shells! We either have to invent, or find, a shell scanner that all cars exiting the Island will have to go through. We can erect them by the ferries. As the car passes through, the scanner will outline the contraband shells being smuggled off Island and we can stop them in their tracks and do a conch crackdown. We have plenty of dogs on the Island and they can be trained to be shell sniffin' canines. If dogs can smell drugs through plastic wrap, foil and coffee grounds, then smelling seaweed stuck on a shell at a hundred paces should be easy. This will put an end to the "taking home a pretty shell as a souvenier" mentality! No more freebies, they can buy a T-shirt at the pharmacy like any normal tourist. The Town Board can institute a Brine Fine for those shell smugglers! Of course, locals can take shells off Island whenever they wish. On the surface, that may seem a bit unfair. But it is very fair below the surface where the shells originate. And it does not qualify as an elephant on the Island that we won't talk about, because elephants don't live underwater. That's where the giant clams that eat tourist legs live, but we don't talk about them either.

She Shells Sea Shells and More

To Shell With It

While sitting in my car and overlooking the beach last winter, I remember thinking how peaceful and pleasant it is to walk the beach at dusk in the summer. Especially at the end of a not-too-hot day, with just nominal wind so the waves lap slowly and lazily up and down the beach. The way a thin layer of water foams and swirls around your feet and pulls back, sinking your feet deeper into the sand. There's something about that experience that makes ordinary shells and stones look somehow special and compels us to pick up a few new ones everytime we walk the beach. I still have a perfect spherical white pebble I found while walking Wades Beach in high school. It looks like a big pearl. It's just a stone, but it's one of my favorite little treasures.

I began to think, always a dangerous activity, about how Shelter Island recycles everything - and long before it was in style. Then I began to think about all the jars of shells and pebbles I have as decorations around the house. And I began to think of all the houses on the Island with jars of shells and pebbles. There's probably enough sand, pebbles and shells in jars all over the Island to build a whole new beach! Maybe it's time for us to recycle some of these shells and pebbles back onto the beach instead of putting them in the back of the closet while we get a new jar of shells this year. I have noticed, over time, that the beach seems to have fewer and fewer nice shells to take home. At first I thought I was imagining it, but now I'm thinking it's because we've all been slowly clearing the beaches of the pretty shells and pebbles and leaving the broken shells and ugly pebbles, cause there doesn't seem to be any shortage of them. So this year, I think I'll recycle, or reshell, the beaches I love with things I have borrowed from them over the years.

Jean: "Ahhhh, Sally, how nice. The beach looks better already. How many jars is that, six?"
Me: "Seven. I don't know which shells came from which beaches though, I may have mixed the Wades Beach shells with the Louis' Beach shells or the Shell Beach shells. But I don't think it matters, do you?"
Jean: "No, I don't think it matters as long as they're from local beaches, but what about this batch you left over here?"
Me: "Those are shells from Tamalpais Beach in California, I had four jars from there. I thought it would be nice, as long as I was in a reshelling mood, to add a few exotics...."
Jean: "I think the reshelling idea is great, but I think you should only reshell local shells, to maintain shell consistency, you know, Shelter Island has standards. Lots of areas limit your paint color choices when you paint your house and such, I'm just not sure that you should..... WAIT! What's that over there? Why is the sand pink and purple? And why is it glittering?"
Me; "Glitter? What glitter? It's the sun playing tricks with your eyes."
Jean: "I don't believe it. Where did you get pink and purple sand filled with glitter?"
Me: "The Honolulu Hilton gift shop. It was a tourist trap, but the shells were so pretty in the colored sand, I just had to buy a few jars. I think the sparkles give the beige sand a little zip."
Jean: "What about the shells? None of these shells are local! The spiny conch shells look awful here, and the little shark jaws have got to go - you'll scare people."
Me: "I thought it would be nice for the kids to find unusual things on the beach."
Jean: "No mother wants her toddler to reappear at the beach blanket with shark jars."
Me: "I see your point."
Jean: "Okay, let's just pick up the little jaws and spiny shells that kids can step on. You had such a good idea, and as always, you just have to go over the top. Why are you looking down? What else have you done to our pristine beaches? 'fess up!"
Me: "Well, the glitter looks so pretty mixed into the sand, and I just thought..."
Jean: "I saw empty plastic bags labeled, "Sequins", in your car, tell me you didn't...."
Me: "No, no, there's no sequins here."
Jean: "Thank God."
Me: "I spread them all over Wades Beach yesterday. The sand looks gorgeous now, you should see it before you judge me."
Jean: "Get in your car! And wait there while I find a piece of driftwood to beat you to death with."