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Shell Game1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | Itinerary | Home Fuery has been a shelling guide for 27 years, and it took 17 to find his first Junonia. “I know a woman who’d been coming here for 40 years,” he tells us as we motor out. “She came here with her father since she was two.” She finally found one last year, had the Junonia encased in acrylic and used it as her late father’s memorial. As we anchor near North Captiva, Fuery warns that the island has so many shells that it’s hard to walk on. I think he’s exaggerating – until I see the desolate spot, a virtual dumping ground for sand and seashells. Today, we’re the only people here. All is calm and quiet. And then Miriam’s Lettered Olive magically appears from beneath the sediment. Despite my earlier skepticism, I feel a rush of excitement. Shelling may be a lone endeavour, but it’s also like a team sport: us against the ocean. If you ever hear someone joyfully shout “Junonia!” on a Sanibel beach, you’ll know what I mean. As we cruise back to Captiva Island, I’m already imagining my next shelling holiday. Hawaii? Thailand? Australia? It’s a great big world out there, with lots of semi-buried treasure waiting to be uncovered. Write to us: letters@enroutemag.net |
