Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1900-11-08
SNAIL ISLES QUEER REACH
changes Color With Every Rise and
Fall of the Tide
From the Denver Evening Post.

From the Denver Evening Post
"A DAYS sail from New Orleans lies Snail
Isle strange and lonely island with a
broad, low, sandy beach that changes color
with every flow of the tide" said Y Rurne
Zelleks of the crescent city Mr., Zelfeks is
man of wealth and leisure whose chief
delight is yachting, and the outlines of his
stanch and handsome yacht, the Sea Gull,
are familiar to the seafaring men in south
ern waters He is fond of the Gulf of Mex
leo, and spends his winters cruising along
Its shores.
Snail Isle, as the sailors call it," said
Mr. Zeleks, is scarcely more than two
miles long. Half covered by the warm wat
ers of the gulf at high tide, 1t seems TO bear
charmed existence. Other islands larger
and higher than it have been swept away
by the heavy storms. Yet the little low
lying island Is as large today it was fifty
years ago, the old sailors tell me.
Its sands are of golden yellow color, and
When the rising tide spreads over the wide
shell-strewn beach, the gilded bits of earth
gl1sten In the sunlight. But when the tide
GIBBS, marvellous change takes place The
golden sands become purple a. if by magic.
Men who see it for the first time rub their
eyes lest they be dreaming. AS the tfds
recedes the purple deepens and the once
bright glittering beach becomes dark as the
royal robes of an empress. Old sailors who
have sailed round the world gaze at the
pedcn III DeWllderment. They have never
seen its like before 1t is a sight never to
be forgotten; an astounding spectacle.
Scientific men are startled.
From the deck of the Sea Gull 1
watched the beach change color one Win
ter afternoon. The spendor of the southern
sun shone over sea and land. The sands OF
the isle seemed more truly golden than any
l hao ever seen before. The tide which had
been at stan2stll for a few moments, be-
gan to turn back to the ocean. Fascinated
by the beauty of the beach with its waving
fringe of green leaved palms, | stood by the
boWsprit gazing shoreward. Suddenly the
color seemed to darken. Astonished l
glanced more keeny at the scene. Over the
broad expanse of glimmering sand a purple
wave spreading. What can it be ?;
l wondered. Richer and richer grew the
purple hue and l realized that my eyes
We're not deceivtng. Beside me- smiling
with satisfaction at my astonishment, stood
our pilot, Bob Allen. In answer to my has
ty question, he ordered the gig lowered and
silently stepped into the boat. l followed
and away We were swiftly rowed toward the
shore. AS we drew near l beheld upon the
beach myr1adS of little crawling purple OBJ
Jects. Springing shore the boat touched
sand 1 picked up one of the tiny spots of
color. 1t was a snail. Wonderfully purple
in hue and as large as peanuts, the strange
crustaceans had colored the beach. When
the tide falls they issue forth from the wet
sand In search of food with remarkable ra-
pidity. The old adages about the slowness
of snails would not apply 10 the purple ones
on Snail Isle They have elongated bodies
and can crawl almost as rapidly as small
crabs. They are delicious tidbits when
daintily cooked, and after the suggestion of
Captain Allen We ate many of them Their
shells are singularly beautiful when first
secured, but soon fade into a duh gray COL
the gulf coast, but none has for me the at
traction of Snail Isle