Alright, let me tell you about this whole “Lady Bay SEX” episode. What a wild goose chase that turned out to be. Not what you’re probably thinking, mind you. It was supposed to be a straightforward field trip, a bit of practical specimen collection for my hobby project.
My Grand Plan for the “SEX” Specimens
So, I packed my gear – boots, sample bags, a magnifying glass, the whole shebang. Headed out to Lady Bay bright and early. The plan was simple: locate and collect a few samples of this specific type of algae. It’s got this fancy scientific-sounding name, but old Professor Barnaby, my mentor, he used to jokingly call it “Sea Emerald Xanthophyll,” or “SEX” for short in his field notes. Catchy, right? Too catchy, perhaps, in hindsight.
Got there, and Lady Bay was, well, a bay. Lots of rocks, lots of normal seaweed, the usual coastal stuff. I started my search in the intertidal zone, where Professor Barnaby’s old map indicated these “SEX” specimens were supposedly thriving. He said they were tricky, only visible under certain light conditions, clinging to the underside of specific dark rocks.
- Scrambled over slippery rocks for hours.
- Kept checking the map, then the rocks, then the map again.
- Felt like I was looking for a needle in a haystack, if the needle was also green and looked like every other bit of slime.
The tide started coming in, and I was getting soaked. My knees were aching from crouching, and my enthusiasm was seriously dwindling. I found plenty of common bladderwrack, some sea lettuce, even a lost fishing lure, but no sign of the elusive “Sea Emerald Xanthophyll.”
Thinking back, this whole endeavor reminds me of when I tried to fix my cousin’s ancient computer. He swore it just needed a “quick software tweak.” Hours later, covered in dust, with screws scattered everywhere, I realized the motherboard was fried. Some things are just not meant to be found or fixed, no matter how much you prepare or how catchy the nickname is.
I spent a good six hours at Lady Bay. Used up a whole flask of tea. Got a bit sunburned on my neck. And what did I have to show for my “SEX” hunt? Absolutely nothing. Zilch. Nada. Just a pair of muddy boots and a lesson learned about trusting vague directions in old field notes, even from a respected professor.
So, the “practice” of finding this stuff? A total bust. I ended up just taking some photos of the scenery and calling it a day. Maybe Professor Barnaby was having a laugh, or maybe those algae just decided to pack up and leave Lady Bay. Next time, I’m sticking to collecting stamps. Much less physically demanding and definitely less ambiguously named.