Their reunion was everything Michael had hoped it would be. Dana thought it would be fun to explore the greater Boston area with him, so they took a road trip. Their first destination was Salem, MA.

Tall ships, anchored in Salem Harbor, caught Michael’s attention immediately. It was late afternoon and the harbor’s tourist office was closed for the day. They read a note taped to the inside of the door’s window. It said: small boat builder’s monthly meeting tonight. Auditorium. 7 pm.

At the end of the meeting Michael stood up and introduced himself to the boating enthusiasts. He asked if anyone there knew how to build Irish canoes called ‘currachs’. No one did, but then an old man said, “I know a man who built one. His name’s Ed and his workshop’s next to the lighthouse in Hull.”. Michael asked Dana, “Where’s Hull?’ She smiled and squeezed his hand. This was his first lead.

Michael drove to Hull early on a dark and rainy Saturday morning and found Ed. He introduced himself and asked him if he knew how to build Irish currachs. Ed said he’d show him the boats he built after finishing his Saturday morning English long boat rowing lessons. He asked Michael if he wanted to row with the group. Michael agreed, even though he had absolutely no interest in English long boats.

Three hours later, while drying off in the workshop, Michael listened as Ed explained how he had found the plans for a currach in Wooden Boat magazine. He told Michael that if he could find the magazine he ought to be able to build one also. Michael had never built a wooden boat before. He didn’t know how to read boat building plans either. He wanted to learn to build a traditional currach from a master boat builder. He thanked Ed for his time.

As he was leaving the workshop Ed said, “I know of a man, named Mike, who knows a currach builder from Ireland named Johnny. They used to work together at the Boston Globe. I don’t think he builds currachs anymore though. He must be quite old now. Here’s Mike’s telephone number. You’ll have to talk with Mike first to talk with Johnny. Good luck.”

A thin ray of hope brightened Michael’s spirit. He had to return to Pennsylvania the next day for work. And he wanted to visit Dana again, as soon as possible.

Sometimes chance encounters and random events change our lives in unforeseen ways. I often feel like an actor without a script. The twists and turns my life takes sometime feel like they’ve been choreographed, ahead of time, by an invisible playwright. For instance:

Have you ever been thinking about a choice, let’s say to stay put or move on to a new place? Suddenly you notice the licence plate on a random car in front of you, at a stop light. It is from ‘that place’ you’ve been dreaming about. Is that an accident or a coincident? I guess the answer depends on what you’ve discovered about the nature of the Universe.

Michael met Dana many years ago in a large city out west. She just happened to be living in the same boarding house he rented a room in, for work related reasons. They slowly got to know one another during the nine months he lived there. Although she was considerably younger than him, they found much in common.

They both liked to play the piano, explore the city/country, cook, drink good coffee, laugh and they had mutual friends. Many of the twelve or so boarders in the house developed friendships and would do things together. They respected each other’s space and privacy and generally found great pleasure living together, like brothers and sisters. Well almost.

Michael fell in love with Dana. She didn’t feel the same about him however. He moved to the east coast, for personal reasons, and they lost touch for many years. But he did write down his feelings for her and he mailed her a few letters soon after departing. He felt it best to act mature and forget her, reasoning that it wasn’t meant to be, despite what his heart whispered to him during quiet moments.

He worked and lived with his sister, niece and nephew in a small Western Pennsylvania town on the Ohio River named Sewickley. This is where Dana found Michael and this is where another event began to unfold that was to change his life forever.

Terebra Turriitella is a very common species of vegetarian marine snail inhabiting the shallow areas of the world’s oceans. It’s shell can grow up to seven inches long in the warm and tropical waters of the Philippines. The cooler water of sub-tropical and temperate regions limit Terebra Turritella’s shell growth to less than a few inches.

The word ‘Terebra’ is Latin and refers to ‘a screw shaped device used by ancient Romans for starting a breach in a fortified wall’. ‘Turritella’ comes from the Latin word ‘turritus’ meaning ‘turreted’ or’ towered’. The common English names for the Terebra Turritella Shell are: Auger Shell, Tower Shell, Turret Shell, Unicorn Shell, Screw Shell, Common Screw Shell and Great Screw Shell. I’m sure there are many others.

Most people are attracted to a particular shell because of it’s exterior size, shape, color, texture and, in some cases, smell. Some shells are coveted because they are rare or unusual in some way. This isn’t the case concerning the outward appearance of the Common Screw Shells. They’re just different shades of beige or brown and are generally dismissed by serious shell collectors as ‘beneath their notice’.

Michael found this attitude amusing. He had discovered that the air inside many different species of small shells can be resonated using an ancient and obscure technique used to make whistle sounds with acorn caps. (The ‘acorn cap whistle skill’ is believed to have originated somewhere in the temperate regions of the world, sometime after the end of the last ice age, but no one knows for certain.)

He also discovered that the Great Screw Shell can be played as a flute, capable of releasing an octave and a half of perfect diatonic and chromatic musical notes, after pitch holes are introduced into the shell’s body of whorls. The sounds produced by this new wind instrument closely resemble the sounds produced by Native American Flutes,  pan pipes, ocarinas and recorders.