Sea Shell Collection

Not long after my sister's cat ate my butterfly collection, a lady came to visit our mission in Mexico. She was not a family friend, but quickly became one. Wanting to see more of Mexico, but not wanting to travel alone in a country where she did not speak the language (thinking of it now, I realize what an intrepid soul she must have been!), she suggested to Daddy that we take a trip to the gulf coast of the Yucatan Peninsula...he would provide the vehicle and she would pay the expenses. So we packed up our old red jeep Wagoneer and headed from San Cristobal de las Casas towards Ciudad del Carmen.

As I was barely 14, I have very sketchy memories of that trip. What did stand out to me was when we got to the coast. I cannot say where, exactly, we were headed, (never having been there before) but it seems that Dad knew where he was going. We got to a place where we had to take a ferry to the island destination he had in mind. This part I do remember so vividly....The ferry was nothing more than a large flat raft with a chain guard around the edges. He drove the car onto the raft/ferry, and it shuttled us across to a long narrow island. Mama was so terrified that she made us all stay in the car!

Once off-loaded, we headed to a small "hospedaje", which consisted of a few rooms with bathrooms on one side, an open breezeway in the middle, and the landlady's home and kitchen on the other side. Mom and Dad got one room, our lady sponsor got another, and at least three of us slept outside in the breezeway in hammocks. The breezeway was also where we took our meals. They consisted mostly of beans, rice and tortillas, but I never remember being hungry. And I remember the landlady being very kind to us.

But most of all, I remember the ocean...I remember climbing over the sand dune and looking out on the clearest, bluest water I had ever seen. The waves were white-crested and it looked just like a photograph. When we approached the water, there were piles and piles of seashells! I have never again seen anything like it! My brothers and sister ran for the water, but I plopped myself down in the seashells and began sorting through them. It took days of sorting, but I found so many perfect shells in the few days we spent on that beach. Most of them were what are called Fig shells. They were not terribly colorful, but the ones I brought home with me were perfect.

That was the beginning of my fascination with collecting shells. Now my collection resides in glass jars on these shelves my husband built for that purpose. I have shells from the Pacific and Atlantic sides of Latin America, Hawaii, Tahiti, Alaska, the western coast of the US, Greece, and a couple my brother brought me from Israel!

I just wanted to share them with you...