Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Treasures at the Beach

There was a time in my life when a visit to the beach was as rare and exciting as Christmas. Once in a blue moon my parents would hook the pop-up trailer to the back of the Big Red Van, and we would trundle off to Southampton. It didn't matter if the water was cold, we didn't care if the sky was grey. We were at the beach! Seashells! Sand castles! Bathing suits 24/7, baby! Peeling shoulders, new friends from exotic locales such as Sarnia and Guelph, and hair full of sand. It was about as good as life gets.

For my kids, excitement is seeing a squirrel in Grannie and Poppa's backyard. "Oh! Oh! Mom! Did you see that? Quick, look - it's a squirrel! Oh my gosh, can I go outside and see it? I hope it doesn't run away!" There's no doubt they love the beach, but there is no mystery there. Try to entice them with a stretch of sand and the promise of some fish in the water, and all you'll get is a look that says, "Okay, okay, don't hurt yourself. It's just the beach."

But new-and-unexplored or old-and-familiar, the beach is still a ton of fun. Who can say no to this?

First stop is always the water. Sunday morning, Stylish immediately took possession of a boogie board, and went out in the waves.

Erik went in search of bigger game. Our friends had an extra surfboard on hand, so he paddled out to give it a try.

Erik has long cherished a wish to go kite surfing, but had to settle for trying regular surfing this time. Myself, I wonder at the need for a kite. I guess there is nothing like zooming along the surface of the water at up to 100 kph on a tiny board. But why is it that every sport Erik enjoys involves a harness and a safety knife to cut yourself free?

I went for a snorkel (undocumented, comme d'habitude). Some fish, some coral, watch for rip currents and the breaking waves; same old, same old. Honestly, I could do it every day.

But even the boring old beach can have surprises in store. After Indy finished her wave-jumping exercises, she went in search of shells. Each time she found a good one, she ran back up the beach, showed it off, then ran back to the water's edge for more.
A Frisbee full of shells.
But the best was yet to come. "Mooooooom!" she yelled, running towards me. "Look what I found! It's a piece of pottery. I think it was a cup. It must have come from a shipwreck. I'm so excited!"

Indy happily tucked her find into the dive bag, and scampered off to look for more.

Meanwhile, Stylish had also started beachcombing. Being older and that much more savvy, she sent a younger child to fetch me when she found something good.

I'll admit, I didn't expect her to find a sewing machine.
Now, where did you come from?
It is an old Singer, but the logo is a little different from the others I saw poking around online. I'd love to know what era this is from - can anyone help me out? (I'm looking at you, Mom.) Amazingly enough, the chrome on the flywheel and the thread plate is still as shiny as ever. It is too bad the body is so rusty; it is certainly the most unusual thing we have ever found on the beach.

Stylish really wanted to bring it home, but Mean Mom and Dad said no. Now, I kind of regret that. I'd like to take a better look at the machine.

Maybe we'll have to go back to the beach this weekend.


Anonymous said...

Are you kidding me? You found a sweet little Featherweight machine & didn't even record the serial number or plate off to do more investigation. Most Featherweights were manufactured in Great Britain, which I suspect your find was but some also were made in the USA. If you get me the serial number I will let you know the year & place of manufacture.

Stylish, remind me to show you the Featherweight that Great Grandma gave me that was once hers. It is a beauty.
Love Mom/Grannie

Anonymous said...

The open hole on the side indicates it to be a 201. Perforated crank means it was sold as hand operated. Weird is the Red S badge started 1960 but that doesn't match up with the cast body style of that unit which was discontinued far earlier.
Very mysterious to me.