Tumbled by the Sea: a guest blog by Marc Maisano

The waves are breaking well over head, it is a big day at Ocean Beach. Defying the fog, the sun is out; the water a cool 54 degrees. After a 20 minute paddle against crashing waves and a chaotic current, I finally make it outside the break. I catch my breath and wait for a set.

I paddle hard into my first wave, then pop up as it propels me down its face. I make a huge bottom turn, race back up to get in front of the curl to ride down the wall until I kick out and paddle back into position.

After a couple of nice rides, a sneaker wave rolls in. I'm not quite in position but decide to take off anyway; too late. I know what's about to happen. I plunge over the falls and am pushed down deep by a heavy wave. Swimming to emerge, I don't know if I'm going up or down. Finally, I surface only to have the next wave crash down plummeting me back toward the sandy bottom.

I tumble around like a load of laundry. My leash breaks and my board is pushed by the heavy white water to shore. I come up, catch my breath and swim in. It's low tide and my board is beached. As I bend down to pick it up, I see a rare nickel-size piece of teal sea glass wedged in the sand. I'm reminded of the fable; every time a sailor drowns a mermaid cries tears of sea glass. Raising my eyes I scan the beach knowing that sea glass never travels alone.

For many years, I've collected sea glass in a kaleidoscope of colors and in a multitude of shapes. When I retired (from work, not surfing), I decided to learn how to make jewelry from my bounty.

I've taken several jewelry making classes, learning how to set sea glass using silver bezel. My favorite class was in Ubud, Bali where I learned techniques that have enabled me to hone my skills for working with silver.

The garage is my studio where I store my album collection and have a 1960's sound system: a Pioneer tuner/amp, Pioneer speakers and Sony turntable. Working in the studio, I listen to favorite tunes to inspire my jewelry making. A favorite is Blood Sweat and Tears with hits "And When I Die," "God Bless the Child, and "You Have Made Me So Very Happy."

Curiously, in vivid contrast to all the other areas of my life, my work bench appears to be in total chaos: tools scattered about, cigar boxes full of glass, clam shells with sea glass loosely organized by color, shape and size. It's a wonder I can find anything.

But rather than being deterred, I am energized having decided to make a bracelet. I being to puzzle together five pieces of sea glass about the same shape and size. Selecting the right pieces is the most challenging and also the most satisfying of the jewelry making process.

It is almost as fun as hunting for sea glass on the beach. What a treat it is to find a rare cobalt blue or ever rarer red, yellow or teal. Since the 1970s, the recycling movement has dramatically impacted the abundance of sea glass; in fact most of what is found today is from the first half of the 20th century. Now common color are more pedestrian: green, brown, clear, and white.

As I make my final choices for the bracelet, I change the record and put on Dave Mason's, "Alone Together" appreciating that the English singer-songwriter also played with other favorites, Traffic and Fleetwood Mac.

Finally I have selected the five pieces that will compose the bracelet and begin work on the bezel. I carefully wrap the silver bezel around the sea glass, cut for a snug fit, and painstakingly solder the ends together. The bezel is then soldered to the base, a silver disk about the size of a quarter. After punching holes in the center, large enough for my jewelers saw to slip in, I solder the bezel to the base. I use borax and distilled water for flux to promote the solder to melt and flow.

Time for another LP. This time it's the Youngbloods "Elephant Mountain" with Jessie Colin Young and memories of when I lived in the Sierra Foothills, listening to thie album on the eight track player in my 62 Check pickup while cruising mountain backroads.

As I torch the flux and solder, it puffs up into a little cumulus cloud that dissipates as the solder reached its melting point, follows the flux that attaches the bezel to its base. Before I set the glass, I drop it in a crockpot with a liquid compound made with lemonade Kool-Aid and distilled water; a homemade pickle that removes oxidation and flux. This takes about ten minutes, so I choose another album.

Time for another one of my all-time favorites: "Super Session" with Al Kooper, who was the first bandleader of Blood Sweat and Tears, Mike Bloomfield, one of the early guitar superstars, and Stephen Stills, a two time Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame member.

I use my jeweler's saw and cut the base roughly, following the shape of the sea glass. I'll do this four more times. Now it's time to design and make jump rings that will connect the five pieces. The final step is the clasp.

Holding the bracelet in my hand, I appreciate that the sea glass, just like me, has been tumbled by the sea to survive with its edges softened and rounded; a sea gem now a piece of jewlery.

Marc Maisano lives in San Francisco with his wife Lise and their long-haired dachshund Shanti. Before retiring, Mr. Maisano was a gerontologist. He now spends his time surfing, golfing, paddle boarding, and smoking good cigars.