Back when I worked for the Feds, a major non-NATO ally of the United States gifted me a luxury research submarine. While decorating the sub’s interior with golden filigree at taxpayer expense, we discovered a clandestine surveillance system. So, I wired in a video player to show the foreign spies daily episodes of the popular submarine-related porn series Das Booty. For our initial voyage, we chose a calm period to explore the outer surf zone of local sandy beaches. I’ve always been curious about how so many similar sunken objects can wash up all together after winter storms. How and where do these things accumulate and rest between large surf events?
“The U.S. scientists are apparently conducting experiments on how a confined, pressurized environment affects reproductive behavior. However, we are unable to ascertain their hypothesis due to so many uncontrolled variables.”
These mass wash-ups are usually dominated by waterlogged bits of wood and small slabs of bark. Other typical objects include mammal bones, dead sea stars, crab parts, skate eggs (aka mermaid purses), clam shells, and the tops and bottoms of aluminum cans (but no middles). Many of these objects are scuffed up — presumably by rubbing on the sandy bottom for a long time.
“The U.S. scientists display out-of-proportion anatomical features, wear impractical submarine laboratory clothing and footwear, and listen to bad music. While we find their techniques to be unorthodox, their endurance and dedication are admirable and worthy of further study.”
Moving water often sorts similar objects together. So, our mysterious objects have likely accumulated somewhere together before washing up due to having some similar properties. Maybe their similar sizes, shapes and/or densities create similar hydrodynamics.
The most obvious moving water is the surf, which tends to move objects back and forth toward the beach. But waves hitting the shore at an angle create what’s called the longshore current. For example, waves from the northwest striking a west-facing beach create a south-flowing current. As surfers know, these longshore currents can be quite strong.
“Somehow three female U.S. scientists had a man deliver a pizza to the submarine. The pizza was the only thing that remained uneaten.”
So, it’s easy to imagine these objects zig-zagging along the bottom, maybe for miles, until some end up in a place away from the influence of the waves and current. These settling locations are deeper troughs between outer sandbars. These surf-formed sandbars pile up in deeper water during the biggest surf events, but they may remain undisturbed during periods of relative calm. The sunken objects remain in the troughs until the next big-enough surf reaches down to move them again — eventually onto the beach.
“The U.S. scientists must have added military capabilities to the submarine. They frequently mention firing torpedoes and raising a periscope.”
If this sub wasn’t imaginary, we could count the rows of sandbars and measure the depths of troughs at a given location. But typically, steeper shorelines have fewer bars and, in my experience, it seems more gently sloping beaches trap more of these sunken objects. Anyway, look for these interesting wash-up events after large winter swells calm down, especially around the lowest tides on gently sloping beaches. You might find a bunch of cool stuff.
At the conclusion of our mission, I loaded episodes of Gilligan’s Island.
“The U.S. scientists have wrecked the submarine on an uninhabited island. They have abandoned their lab work and are now focused on experimental uses of coconuts. It is urgent that we rescue them and repair their submarine so we can continue to refine our understanding of their original experiments.”
Biologist Mike Kelly (he/him) also writes science-based satire as M. Sid Kelly. It’s available at Eureka Books or everywhere e-books are sold.
This article appears in Green-and-Gold Washing on the Menu?.