August 17, 1995 - Jetaway, the Scallop: A Children's Story1OA • The Suffolk Times • August 17, 1995
Jetaway, the Scallop: A Children's Story
By Paul Stoutenburgh____
Let me introduce myself to some of
you who might not know me. I am Jet-
away, a scallop, one of the many shell-
fish found in our bays and creeks. My
life is a short one, only about two years.
Some shellfish, like clams, live 20 to 25
yeafs, but then if you sit around in the
sand all day and
Focus on do nothing, what
good is it?
Mature Scallops like me,
on the other hand,
move about always seeing and doing dif-
ferent things. That's why I'm called
Jetaway by my friends.
After I was born with thousands of
other little wiggly young scallops, I drift-
ed around the bay for days just enjoying
myself. Because there are so many differ-
ent kinds of plants and animals in the
water, people bunch us all together and
just call us plankton. I was so small that
one time a kid swimming down by the
dock took a mouthful of water that I was
in with a whole bunch of other plankton
fellows I didn't even know. It was awful
scary and dark! Pretty soon the kid
squirted us all out in a long stream at his
sister. Did she ever scream! But then, I
guess that's what you can expect from
brothers who always like to tease sisters.
None of us were harmed, but a friend of
mine got caught in between one of the
boy's teeth and was saved only when he
took another mouthful of water to squirt
again at his sister.
Back in the water again I drifted
around wherever the tide would take me.
Once I was almost swallowed by a big
fish called a bunker. At least, he seemed
big to me. These fish swim in big
schools with their mouths wide open and
scoop up all the plankton that's in front
of them. I was lucky that I got through
the school of fish without being scooped
in. I guess that's why when we're born
nature produces so many of us. All I
remember was those big open mouths all
about me so I automatically swam as fast
as I could down among the eel grass. My
parents can remember tales handed
down from years ago that there used to
be lots of eel grass, bul because of a dis-
ease or something most of it died and
left little for all the tiny fish and shellfish
to hide in. Luckily it's starting to come
back in some places.
Finally Got My Shell
Seeing that experience with all the big
fish frightened me so much I decided to
stay down amongst the eel grass. By
now I had my own tiny shell and found I
could attach myself to a blade of grass
i
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with a special thread called a byssus. It
was pretty nice as I swayed back and
forth with the tide and ate all the micro-
scopic plankton that came floating by.
Once I was almost ripped off my eel -
grass stem because of the swirling tur-
bulence of water from an outboard mo-
torboat. It was like a tornado and the
mud and sand swirled up and around me.
Those people in power boats should
keep in the channels and not scare us lit-
tle guys so much.
I was growing fast now in my shell
that acts like a house for me. When I
open and close my two shells it feels
almost like swimming. Each day I grow
bigger and bigger and my one big muscle
inside grows stronger and stronger. One
day when I was exercising — I guess a
bit too much — my thread or holdfast
that attached me to the grass broke and I
swam away on my own. I was free but
that meant I had to keep opening and
closing my shell, otherwise I'd sink to
the bottom where I was afraid to go
because I'd never been there before.
I kept opening and closing, opening
and closing, and with my jets of water I
zigzagged along. Now I was getting tired
and frightened because I'd seen all sorts
of bad things on the bottom like blue
claw, spider and lady crabs, starfish,
periwinkles and great, big whelks. They
all looked up at me when I was high
above them and seemed to be just wait-
ing for me to fall, so I kept opening and
closing, opening and closing, but I
couldn't keep it up. Slowly my energy
gave out and I settled on the soft,
muddy, sand bottom. I was alone and
partly hidden in the soft ooze. I didn't
dare to move.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I opened my
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shell and with all my blue -green eyes —
you know I have over 40 of them — I
looked around. I saw no one and so I
again started feeding on the plankton
that was drifting by. Boy, it was good
tasting but then my sense of smell told
me something unusual was nearby. I
looked and looked but saw nothing. Yet
I knew there had to be something, for I
could smell something very strange that
told me it wasn't good.
Then I saw it. It was low and spread
out like a giant hand. Its top had a rough
surface with kind of warts on it and it
traveled along on hundreds of little suc-
tion cups. I didn't like the looks of it,
especially since it was
heading right for me. I
didn't know what to do
and it was getting closer
and closer. Just as its
thick, pointed arm
reached up to grab on to
me I shut my shell as living
quickly as I could and
jetted up and away from
it. It was a starfish and
those guys would love to
eat me up. I kept going
for the longest time until I had to quit
and settle down to the bottom again.
From then on I was always on the
lookout, with not only my many eyes but
also my good sense of smell. Once a
blue claw crab snuck up behind me
when the current was the wrong way so I
couldn't smell him and he grabbed me,
but my now -tough shell slammed closed
and he couldn't get at my soft inner
parts. I just kept closed all the time until
he got tired and gave up and went away.
I was hungry, for I hadn't been able to
feed on my favorite plankton, so I quick-
ly opened up and filtered out my dinner.
Time passed quickly and we scallops
grew bigger and bigger each day, espe-
cially during the summer months when
the plankton seems to be thicker and bet-
ter tasting. The first summer I grew to be
about the size of -a quarter and the bay -
men called all of us small scallops
"bugs." Now, I don't know where they
got that name from 'cause we're nothing
like a bug.
When winter came things slowed
down in the bay for us scallops. Most of
us lay on the bay bottom feeding on any-
thing that came along. The crabs, eels
and dogfish all went to sleep in the mud
so I didn't have to worry about them
during that time of the year. I was grow-
ing into a real big scallop.
When I think I like a change of
scenery I just open and close, open and
close, and jet myself to another location
and see another part of the bay. My trips
Drawing by Diane Alec Smith
aren't far but they give me a chance to
get around, and with my rims of blue -
green eyes I'm always on the lookout for
something interesting.
When springtime came along I was
almost fully grown and still enjoying the
plankton of the bays. Only once did I get
a bad taste when someone threw over
some pollution from their boat. It was
awful! I almost choked on it and if the
tide hadn't changed I think I surely would
have died. Some say lots of us shellfish
are killed by pollution. I hope no one else
throws any of those bad things like oil,
gasoline, pesticides, garbage or any of
that ugly stuff overboard. We all know
this is a pretty nice place
to live, here in our own
bay, so let's hope it stays
that way without pol-
lution.
By fall of the second
year I knew my life was
in the just about over. I had
grown to a full -size scal-
lop with a big, strong
muscle. I had just created
a whole new generation
of tiny little wiggly scal-
lops and was about to settle down and go
into a deep sleep when I heard this awful
grinding sound nearby. I looked up to
see a big powerboat passing overhead
and trailing from each side was a line
with a big scoop or dredge dragging
along the bottom. It was picking up ev-
erything on the bottom. Later I found out
it was moving back and forth to get scal-
lops. Because I could swim I moved
away to shallower water in the bay and
lay there to feed.
Two days later a boat came by, but
this time it was quiet. Only a man and
his two kids were in it. They all had
long - handled nets and were looking over
the side of the boat for scallops. Sure
enough, one saw me and before I could
jet away he scooped me up. That boy
was fast! I was flipped into a bucket
with a whole lot of other scallops. I tried
to swim but all I could do was open and
close, open and close.
The tale of a
young scallop
named Jetaway,
waters of the
East End.
What happens to all our friends like
the scallops is that they die one way or
another. Remember, scallops only live
for two years, but if they are caught early
enough they can be opened and eaten by
people. If they are not taken and eaten
they die naturally anyway and so, you
see, scallops fulfill an important need for
us: seafood. The man and his two kids
had a wonderful scallop dinner thanks to
the wonderful waters of the East End and
the many scallops like Jetaway.