The first gales of October rearrange the coast. They tear kelp off the rocks, strip sand from the strand and push everything the sea has been hoarding all summer up onto the tideline. Beachcombing in autumn is less about luck than timing: the morning after a westerly blow, on a big spring tide, a British beach can look like a museum table with the drawers tipped out.
You do not need much to join in. Boots, gloves, a bag and a rough idea of what you are looking at will do.
Three things happen at once. The sea is at its warmest and most productive after summer, so there is simply more life to be lost, moulted or shed. The weather turns, and storms drag material from deeper water and further offshore. And the currents do their seasonal work, carrying tropical drift seeds across the Atlantic towards west-facing coasts.
It is also a breeding season for several species. Rays, skates and catsharks lay their egg cases through the autumn and winter, which is why mermaid's purses start appearing on beaches from September onwards. Cuttlefish, which come inshore to spawn in late summer, die after breeding, and their internal shells float for months.
A mermaid's purse is the empty egg case of a shark, skate or ray. Nothing more romantic than that, but no less satisfying to find. They come in two broad shapes, and the shape tells you roughly who made it.
Turn one over. If there is a neat slit at one end, the animal has hatched and you have found an empty case. If it is intact and heavy, put it back in the water or into a rockpool — there may still be a developing embryo inside. The Shark Trust runs a long-standing recording scheme for egg cases, and your finds help map where these species are breeding around the UK.
Cuttlebone is the one find most people recognise without knowing what it is. It is the internal shell of a cuttlefish: oval, chalky white, with a thin brittle rim and a small pointed end. Gulls and rodents often nibble the edges for calcium, so perfect ones are less common than chewed ones. It floats, which is why it ends up on the strandline rather than sinking with the animal.
Look also for sea wash balls — the egg cases of the common whelk, which look like a cluster of small yellow-brown pouches joined on a string. Fresh ones feel rubbery and may still contain tiny whelks, so return those to the sea. Dried ones are brittle and dull. Alongside them you may find the pale, bristly test of a sea potato, the fragile shells of heart urchins, slipper limpet shells stacked in chains, and razor shells.
The best finds arrive from thousands of miles away. Tropical seeds and pods drop into rivers in the Caribbean and Central America, are carried out to sea and ride the currents eastwards, sometimes drifting for years before a westerly gale throws them onto a Cornish, Welsh or Hebridean beach.
The sea heart is the prize: a large, flat, woody seed shaped like a rounded heart, mid-brown and smooth. Hamburger beans are round and glossy with a groove around the middle, like a tiny burger. Sea purses and Mary's bean are rarer still, and a genuine find. Anything pale, hard and clearly not native to a British shore is worth photographing.
Drift seeds gather at the very top of the strandline, often mixed in with dried seaweed, cuttlebone and plastic. Work that upper line slowly, especially where a beach curves into a bay. Coconuts turn up too, though plenty of those have been buried by holidaymakers rather than delivered by the Gulf Stream.
When something stops you, slow down and work through it in order.
Learn five things properly — cuttlebone, whelk egg case, bladderwrack, mermaid's purse and sea potato — and the rest of the strandline becomes much easier to read.
The strandline is not debris. It is a habitat: sandhoppers, seaweed flies and beetles live in it, and waders and gulls feed along it. Take a couple of small items for the windowsill, photograph the rest, and leave plenty behind.
A few sensible rules. Never take live animals or seaweed still attached to rock. Do not collect from nature reserves, Sites of Special Scientific Interest or anywhere with local byelaws against it — check with the site warden or your local council if you are unsure. Removing sand, shingle or other natural material from the seashore is restricted in the UK and may require consent, so treat the beach itself as out of bounds and stick to loose, washed-up items. If you find a dead seabird or marine mammal, do not handle it; report it to your local council or the relevant authority.
Two safety notes. Portuguese man o' war occasionally strand on western coasts after autumn gales, and they sting even when dead — do not touch them, and keep dogs away. And wear gloves: broken glass, rusty metal and sharp shell edges are common in fresh strandline.
Check the tide table and go on a spring tide, arriving an hour or two before low water so you can follow the ebb down. A day or two after a westerly gale is ideal. Walk the strandline slowly, head down, working the top line first and then the fresh debris at the water's edge. Take a bucket, a camera, gloves and a bag for any litter you pass.
Keep an eye on the sea at all times and never let a good find distract you from a rising tide. Then go home, dry your cuttlebone on a windowsill, label your sea bean with the date and beach, and start planning the next blow.
Photo: ELG21 / Pixabay
