Ode to a Beach Naturalist

Lisa Balton is one of RE Sources’ star volunteer beach naturalists and wrote the preceding about her experiences. Volunteer naturalists come with a variety of backgrounds. This essay was written as Lisa was simultaneously enrolled in the Beach Watchers program of WSU Extension.

We head for the beach at low tide, drawn by the possibility of critters to poke at or photograph. We want to hold scuttling hermit crabs and prod gelatinous masses. Our young swarm over the rocks. An adult bobs up from the noisy mass, squawking “get down off that ledge!” An exuberant kid swings Turkish towel seaweed in wide circles over his head. Folks come out to dig for clams, making holes and piles on the muddy shore. Curious small groups overturn rocks to observe commotions of crabs scrambling for new hiding spots.

Meanwhile, private huddles of folks tut-tut in dismay at the tumult. After the pounding waves of humanity dissipate, calm gradually returns over the scene of harried crabs, dehydrated hydroids, suffocating worms, and the red innards of a crushed mollusk.

The beach seems like a huge playground to some, a war zone to others. In order to allow our beach life to thrive, it’s important to practice and teach beach etiquette. But teaching well requires that we respect and understand our many different learning styles and experiences. We must learn to interact positively for a lesson to be learned, and for people to respect one another and our environment. This is where the beach naturalist is most valuable.

To understand the differences between us is to also understand what makes us the same, or at least able to live together. Marine creatures have managed to thrive together by way of zonation, where organisms find the best shelter and food in zones between the tides. Zonation looks like this:

Barnacles are some of the uppermost marine creatures in the intertidal zone. Shut tight at low tide, they can survive on a bit of sea spray before the tide returns. Mussels, preferring more dampness, fit in a zone just below the barnacles. They actually thrive best submerged in the lowest intertidal zone, but that is where the sea star lurks, a predator that loves to feed on them. Now as the plot twists in this zonation soap opera, a new character arrives on the scene—the sea snail. This snail eats mussels from a mid-level zone, but the sea snails are slow eaters that don’t diminish the mussel population as the ravenous sea star can. So, zonation allows marine creatures to sort themselves out and interact (or avoid each other) according to their needs between the tides.

Could zonation also work for humans?

While humans don’t live in bands across the Earth, our zones are based on experience, background, moods, attitudes, learning methods and so much more. It is a lot to keep in mind when interacting. It’s especially a lot to keep in mind in the specific area of each beach at low tide.

This is where the beach naturalist thrives best and helps us understand each other as we learn to respect the shore life. Traveling between the zones of young rock hoppers, enthusiastic anemone pokers and clam diggers who haven’t learned about proper digging methods, a beach naturalist interacts with and interconnects these groups or “zones” of people with gentle, positive communication, while encouraging a passion for the intertidal environment.

With unobtrusive questions like “What kinds of clams are you finding? How do you like to prepare them?” a beach naturalist may warm up enough to take the next step of gently familiarizing these clam-diggers with the information that by re-filling their holes, they are putting back piles of sand and mud that might suffocate more clams below.

Some kids poking at sea anemones might be distracted by questions and observations of nearby marine life: “Shall we see what’s under this rock?” The rock is lifted gently by the beach naturalist, indirectly giving an example of how to be careful in choosing manageable rocks to see under. They watch marine life, and meantime the kids learn that anemones lose moisture when poked. They may also observe how to place rocks down where they were found without disturbing the residents.

There are many ways to pass on information with questions, shared observations and hands-on examples of excellent beach etiquette. A significant part of the job is also to understand when to step back, slow down, maybe cease interaction with some people. Some, no matter how careful the beach naturalist’s approach, will feel singled out and upset.

But as the beach naturalist, it isn’t necessary to be able to solve all the problems or change all the behavior in all the zones of human behavior. Reaching one out of 20 people is a step, as word about beach etiquette can still get passed around. Also, maybe that one disgruntled, uncommunicative beach visitor shut off the lights that night with a few final images in his or her mind, including that of a tiny sea anemone hidden in the rocks. And maybe—just maybe—on the next visit to the beach, fewer anemones will be poked. Every little bit counts! §