C

I remember a day at the beach a long time ago ... had to be in the mid sixties. My mom was and still is petrified of the water ... she'd never learned how to swim. My brothers and I sure did. I was thinking about this the other day because I thought maybe she would like to learn, maybe it's not too late ... but it is ... it has been. I don't know where my mom was this day, but she must not have been nearby because my Dad let us ride the waves out much farther then we would have been allowed to otherwise. I saw a bottle bobbing up and down and started kicking as hard as I could to get to it before my big brother saw it ... he was a stronger swimmer then I, and I wanted the prize! I'm sure I must have been looking back at him flush with the victory and so proud of my finese ... it wasn't often that I bested him when he shouted,"Don't touch that!" Too late, the bottle dissolved into a stinging mess. My note in a bottle, probably thrown from a pirates vessel, revealed itself as a Portuguese Man of War. Boy did it smart! My hand felt like it was on fire as my brother pulled me out of the water. My dad must have figured it out pretty quick because he scooped me up and took off at a sprint to the nearby beachshop ... they had beer on ice out on their front porch and Daddy popped the cap off of first one then several more of those  washing my hand in the icey coldness. The proprietor came out with some household amonia ... I developed what has turned out to be a life long adversion to the smell of both that day!
It's kinda cool that I saw that movie - Message in a Bottle - just the other day and it reminded me of this incident. And then, yesterday, walking on the beach, this little thing(s) washed ashore. A man was trying to provide assistance, but it just kept on washing back up. He showed me how to pick it up ... gently ... by the sail (pneumatophore), careful of those nasty tentacles, which weren't very well developed on this one. It was beautiful ... delicately tinted with the prettiest colors. I can see why it is commonly referred to as a "bluebottle" ... . I held it. I wish the photo could capture the way it felt.
http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/invertebrates/portuguese-man-of-war/

I remember my Dad talking to me as he removed that slime ... Don't let this make you afraid of the water ... and be mindful of what you are actually reaching for ... and he probably said something nice about icey cold beers that day too.  

Today is the anniversary of my Dad's death ... the folks around here refer to it as passing.  Isn't it lovely that one might still hear the love ... encouragement ...  gentle admonitions ... floating ... delicately tinted through time and washing over on this shore in a blue bottle.

came across this ... lots of blue bottles added Feb. 2012