Years ago, I stopped collecting empty seashells, because I thought
they were better off in the ocean or at the shore. If hermit crabs
didn't adopt them for homes, then the ocean could gradually take
back its calcium carbonate. Also, admiring a shell and then
returning it to a beach or reef gives other people a chance to enjoy
its beauty.
In theory. In truth, when the ocean lays a treasure at my feet,
it's hard to just say no. I see the shell, pick it up, marvel at its
texture, shape and colors, and then, whoops, there it goes into my
pocket.
The shells that bring out my strongest hoarding urge are the ones
with mother-of-pearl interiors. Mother-of-pearl is well named since
this is the substance that surrounds irritants in oysters and
creates pearls.
Pearls are pretty, but whether they're natural or cultured, to me
they're still tumors. One of my favorite pearl quotes is by H.
Martyn Hart in "The World of the Sea" (1869): "It is a singular
reflection that the gem so admired and coveted by man should be the
product of disease in a helpless mollusk."
In Tahiti last year, I bought some black oyster tumors for
necklace gifts. But while there, I was equally thrilled to find
giant shimmering oyster shells lying on the ocean floor. (Yes, I
kept one.)
Even better mother-of-pearl manufacturers are the abalones.
We warm-water residents don't know much about abalone, because
they grow in cold water, using a strong muscular foot to cling like
opihi (limpets) to rocks. Each of these marine snails bears one
oval, bowl-shaped shell with a row of holes along one side. Because
abalone feet are edible, people harvest wild abalone and also
cultivate them in aquafarms.
Abalone mother-of-pearl comes in a luminous mix of blues and
greens with swirls of pink, silver, gold, orange, purple and
lavender. People use this striking material in buttons, as furniture
inlays, to adorn musical instruments and, of course, to make
jewelry.
I make a point of not buying jewelry made of marine shells, but
abalone is an exception. I'm happy to recycle the discarded shells
of a food product. And not only is abalone shell jewelry beautiful,
it's cheap. I'm wearing a fine pair of abalone shell earrings I
bought in Australia last week for $3.50.
Like oysters, abalones also form pearls in response to a foreign
body. Abalone pearls, however, are rarely round. Natural ones look
more like an eye tooth, so shaped because they are often formed
inside the tapered tip of the animal's gonad.
When a boring bivalve invades an abalone from the outside, the
abalone mother-of-pearl grows around it, creating what's called a
blister pearl. Blister pearls remain embedded in their shells.
(Oysters make blister pearls, too.)
Archeological sites in California suggest that people used
abalone pearls for trade more than 7,000 years ago, and in the early
20th century, they were popular as jewelry. The largest one in the
world is called Big Pink and weights 3.3 ounces.
OK, when it comes to collecting shells from beaches, I've not
totally stopped. When the ocean lays a huge, nearly perfect
chambered nautilus shell at my feet, which happened recently, who
could refuse such a gift? Not me. It now sits on my desk.
