shelling diaries 2026 | part two

While we’ve all been getting lots of steps from walking on the beach. Jeff has been the grand champion with over 24,000 steps each day. (I’ve been clocking in 15,000-20,000.)  Since he’s been covering so much ground, we asked him to do some shell reconnaissance for us.  He found some gray olives and whelks for me (he’s redeemed himself from his traitorous act earlier in the week ), and some pink whelks for my mom, but he also found a bountiful stretch of beach we might want to drive to.

I have walked that stretch before, when I stayed at Wild Dunes, but there wasn’t much of interest when I made the trek.  This time, though, Jeff said there were a bunch of shells collected around an area where large rocks were arranged to act as a retaining wall to prevent further beach erosion and protect some cottages at risk.  It was further than my mom and I had walked on our morning beachcombing trips, so we drove down about ten blocks to check it out.

As we were walking along the beach, we saw a couple we had met a few days ago. Every time we’ve seen them, they carried a couple of plastic grocery bags filled with shells.  My mom said they collect shells to make crafts, so they are pros.  You might think they are a sweet old couple, but they are formidable shelling opponents.  They were stopping at every interesting lump in the surf, picking up the good ones, and leaving destruction in their wake.  Just empty holes in the sand and shells with holes and other imperfections.  Fortunately, I like imperfect shells, but they are definitely our shell nemeses this year.  I told Mom we need to try to beat The Crafters tomorrow.

We did have better luck with the shelling, despite the professional shellers combing just ahead of us.  We found dozens of small whelks along with some lady’s ears and snail shells for my mom.  I found one nice olive shell around the rocks along with tons of interesting whelk pieces, skeletons, and ribbons.

The really exciting finds happened on my way back to the car, though.  In this section of the beach, there is some clay mixed in with the sand.  You can find clay packed into some of the whelks or rolled in balls from the friction of the surf.  (These clay balls littering the beach make spotting whelks a bit more challenging.)  But, as I was walking back, I noticed a piece of a whelk sticking out of the sand.  I always give those a poke because they might be buried whelks.  Nine times out of ten, it’s just a broken piece.  This time, I pushed the tip, and it was solid.  I mean, it would not budge at all.  I pulled, wiggled, and unearthed an impressive, intact gray whelk.  It was my best find yet.  I poked at another piece sticking out of the sand, and it wasn’t moving either.

I ended up digging up five whelks, some nicer than others, but it was an amazing find!  I was wishing I had a shovel because I was pretty sure more was buried. I think the clay/sand mixture doesn’t wash away as easily as sand alone, so more shells get lodged in place.  I looked around to note the location of my discovery, and we made our way back to the car.

When we got back to the beach house, and I started washing off my finds, Jeff the shell fairy had visited again while we were gone.  He was there before sunrise and found so many nice whelks that he couldn’t carry them all.  He started putting shells in his coffee cup to expand his shell-carrying capabilities.  Since the shelling was so great at sunrise, he suggested we get up early and join him.

I’m not generally a pre-sunrise person, but I will get up before the sun for a few things – antique markets, long car trips so I can sleep through a few states while Jeff drives, and shelling.  So, we agreed to leave about 6:45 the next morning.

 My alarm went off at 6:30, and I questioned the decision to wake up and walk down to the beach in the dark, but I figured I could take a nap later and not have to get up early again if it was a bust.  The moon was still up, and ribbons of pink were just showing on the horizon.  It was a beautiful morning and worth getting up for that alone.  We spotted some lumps in the surf, but they were just piles of sea foam.  It was hard to see any shells for the first 15 minutes or so, but as the sun came up, the searching became easier.

Mom found the first shell, a nice olive shell, just sitting right on top of the sand.  As we continued down the beach, we found more whelks and olives.  It ended up being the best day for olive shells we’ve had yet.

We walked all the way down to the rocks, which was over three miles round trip.  Jeff walked ahead, scoping out the best spots, texting updates, and letting us know if he spotted any competition.  At one point, he informed me he thought he might be behind The Crafters, so he was going to leapfrog them.  I encouraged him to take any steps he deemed necessary.

My bags were already moderately full when we arrived back at the section of beach with the buried whelks.  It took me a few minutes to find it, but once I did, I dug up about ten small- to mid-sized whelks and seven olive shells!  Some of them were huge gray olive shells that were so beautiful. Jeff came over and helped me dig with shell fragments to find more buried treasure.  He agreed we should bring a shovel and visit that spot again.  We patted the sand back in place so people wouldn’t trip in the holes, and in the hopes that the sweet spot would continue to collect shells for us.

Mom and Jeff were ready to go home, so they walked ahead, and I took my time walking the stretch of beach back to the house.  I found more whelks washing up in the surf and along the shell line.  The wind started to pick up, and the skies darkened, so I quickened my steps.  It did sprinkle a bit, but it never turned into a drenching rain.

When I got back to the house, Jeff told us about an enormous, intact, light-colored whelk he spotted and started walking towards, but a woman beat him to it and picked it up.  He joked that his first thought was wondering if he could grab it and outrun her.  In actuality, he saw that she was elated with her treasure and found joy in that.

Mom also ran into The Crafters and has befriended them, so I’m highly suspicious of her now, and whose side she’s on…