I read with great enthusiasm the report that a fisherman in Scotland had landed a glass bottle containing a small slip of paper which formed part of a Marine Survey from some 98 years ago. The find qualifies as the record for the oldest recovered message in a bottle. With the heart warming feelings I experienced from this tale I was disturbed by a distant memory that troubled me and quickly turned my euphoria to just plain guilt.
On a family holiday, an autumn break in a rented cottage in Robin Hoods Bay, North Yorkshire it was imperative to make the most of the daylight hours as these were becoming increasingly eroded by the approach of winter. We would get up early and, tide permitting, walk along the wide sweep of the Bay scouring the rockpools and picking out nice looking pebbles and bits of gnarled, wave abraded driftwood. These items would fill our cagoule pockets or be carried awkwardly until a better example came into view. Transported home at the end of the week with the intention of doing something creative or for a rustic theme of Christmas gifts they usually ended up discarded in the garden water feature or in a cardboard box in the back of the garage.
Amongst fascinating geological specimens, a wealth of natural history and the sheer beauty of the cliffs and coves we focused our attention on an old plastic bottle possibly left behind in the picnic days of the high summer season just passed. We had an idea to use it as an experiment in just how far it could go containing our personalised message if thrown back into the surf. Paper and pencil were always close to hand in our wet weather gear and the children scribbled our home address and a message inviting whosoever found the message to write and report where it had been found. There were concerns that if it reached, say Holland, France, Spain, Africa, The Americas or beyond there may be some difficulties in translation but I gave reassurance that a message in a bottle was always understood whatever the language.
Ceremoniously we threw the lightweight bottle as far as possible into the advancing waves. It bobbed and wobbled for some time before appearing to escape the draw of the tide and float in that smoother part of the sea beyond the breakers. We left the beach chattering excitedly although that may have been largely as a result of the cold autumn weather. This had not deterred other people and the usual dog walkers and fishermen began to arrive as we headed back to the cottage.
A few weeks later a letter arrived at our home curiously addressed to all three children. It was from a 10 year old boy from Newcastle who had come across the bottle and message and was understandably thrilled about doing so. He had drawn a small map of where he had found the bottle and with a dotted line around a quite accurate representation of the North Sea Coast and Humber Estuary up to our home town. I could see from the detail that he must have spent many hours researching and studying the tides and currents in order to produce the map.
We felt immediate embarassment at what we had done. The small boy had been on holiday like us in Robin Hoods Bay and at the same time. Thinking back I recalled a father and son passing us on the Bay slipway, rods in hand at the very moment we had left the beach. The bottle had, in our estimation, possibly set a new record for the shortest ever time afloat before being discovered, roughly about 5 minutes.
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