The Rubber Ducks That Went Around the World

How a Lost Cargo Became a Scientific Treasure Map

Every so often, the ocean hands us a story so strange and delightful that it sounds like fiction. The Great Rubber Duck Spill of 1992 is one of those tales — a mix of accident, adventure, and unexpected scientific discovery.

A Storm, a Ship, and 28,800 Floating Toys

On January 10, 1992, the cargo ship Ever Laurel was crossing the North Pacific when it hit a powerful storm. Twelve containers went overboard, and one of them burst open, releasing 28,800 plastic bath toys into the sea. These weren’t just yellow ducks — the shipment included blue turtles, green frogs, and red beavers.

 

Because the toys had no holes, they didn’t sink. Instead, they bobbed along the surface, ready to drift wherever the currents carried them.

Why Scientists Paid Attention

Oceanographers quickly realized this spill was more than a quirky headline. It was a rare, real‑world experiment: thousands of identical floating objects released at a single point in the ocean. By tracking where the toys washed ashore, scientists could trace the movement of surface currents with surprising accuracy.

The toys became bright, plastic breadcrumbs that revealed how water circulates across the globe — especially in the vast, looping systems known as gyres.

 

What Exactly Is a Gyre?

A gyre is a massive, slow‑moving swirl of ocean currents, often spanning thousands of miles. Picture a gentle, continent‑sized whirlpool created by wind, Earth’s rotation, and the shape of the ocean basins. The Pacific has several major gyres, and many of the toys became trapped in these loops, circling for years before escaping or freezing into Arctic ice.

A Legacy Still Washing Ashore

Over the decades, sun‑bleached ducks and their colorful companions have appeared in Alaska, Hawaii, Japan, New England, and even the shores of the UK. Each one is a tiny reminder of how connected our oceans truly are — and how far a little plastic traveler can roam.

If you ever spot a weathered duck on a distant beach, you might just be meeting one of the world’s most famous accidental explorers.

Colorado: The Trip I Didn’t Expect (Part 1)

 

Reevaluating Travel After Retirement

I used to joke that I worked so I could travel. Then I got laid off, which quietly turned into retirement, and suddenly that old expression felt very real. These days my “trips” are mostly to the local grocery store.

But that hasn’t stopped me from dreaming. I still read, plan, and binge travel videos while I explore side hustles to support my travel habit.

Why Colorado Became My Last Big Trip

Colorado was the last real adventure I took as COVID wound down and life began to feel normal again. I’ll admit—it wasn’t one of my favorite trips. Even before I left, I struggled to choose which part of the state to visit. Colorado is huge, and the list of iconic destinations is overwhelming.

Colorado’s Endless List of Must‑See Attractions

From sweeping landscapes to historic sites, Colorado is packed with bucket‑list stops:

  • Rocky Mountain National Park
  • Pikes Peak
  • Garden of the Gods
  • Great Sand Dunes National Park
  • Royal Gorge Bridge, the world’s highest suspension bridge
  • Four Corners Monument, where Colorado, Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico meet
  • Mesa Verde National Park, high on my personal list

I even watched Josh Gates explore the Telluride region and retrace the steps of Butch Cassidy, which only added more destinations to my already long list.

Why I Ended Up in Breckenridge

Despite all those options, I landed in Breckenridge. And instead of hiking and exploring, I spent more time lying down than standing up. Altitude sickness hit me harder than expected and slowed me to a crawl.

I searched for bighorn sheep with no luck, but I did spot a couple of moose—small victories count.

The Train Ride I Missed

I managed to squeeze in a train ride, but not the one I really wanted: the iconic Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad. That one is still on my list, and it’s going to play a big role in Part 2 of this story.

A Curious Colorado Mystery

That train came back to mind recently when I saw a video clip making the rounds online. It appeared to show a huge, hairy figure striding across a hillside near the tracks. Whether it was a prank, a shadow, or something more mysterious… well, that’s a tale for the next post.

 

When Technology Takes a Coffee Break

🐾  My Morning Link Routine Hits a Snag

For more than ten years, my mornings have followed a familiar rhythm: coffee, sunrise, and a quick click over to The Animal Rescue Site. One tap earns food and supplies for shelter pets, and sharing the link on Facebook helps spread the word. It’s a tiny ritual, but it feels like a good way to start the day — a little kindness before the world gets noisy.

Lately, though, my dependable routine has hit a pothole.


💻 The Mysterious Case of the Spinning Share Button

Since the New Year, Facebook has decided to get… dramatic.
I click “Share.”
Facebook asks, “Who can see this?”
I choose “Public,” like always.
And then — nothing. Just spinning. Spinning. More spinning. Enough spinning to power a small wind farm.

It’s the digital equivalent of someone nodding politely while slowly backing out of the room.

I’ve tried refreshing, reloading, coaxing, pleading, and even giving my computer the side‑eye. No luck. The share button has apparently taken a personal day.


🐕 Why This Matters (At Least to Me)

I wrote a blog post ages ago promising readers that if they ever misplaced the link, they could always find it on my Facebook feed. It felt like a simple, reliable promise — until Facebook decided to reinvent itself on January 1.

Now I feel like I’m letting people down, even though the problem is clearly not on my end. Technology has a funny way of making us feel responsible for things we can’t control.


🌬️ Letting Go (Just a Little)

So here’s the update: I’m still clicking daily. The animals are still getting their points. And I’m still trying to share the link — even if Facebook is currently acting like a moody teenager who refuses to come downstairs.

If you’re looking for the link and don’t see it, that’s why. I’ll keep troubleshooting, and hopefully Facebook will snap out of its New Year funk soon.

In the meantime, consider this a reminder that even the smallest routines can go sideways — and that’s okay. Life, like a dusty road, is full of bumps, detours, and the occasional spinning wheel.

Longest Dirt Road in The World

 

Razorbills of Bolungarvík, Iceland

 

A Morning Surprise: The Razorbill Pair

I absolutely love this picture. Yesterday I mentioned how I’ve been very visual lately, and here’s another example of what I mean. Each morning when I log onto my computer, I never know what visual treat might be waiting for me. My wallpaper rotates every couple of days—sometimes it’s a misty bridge, other times a fierce tiger mid-prowl. The photography is always stunning. I envy the talent behind these shots. It’s the kind of artistry I once dreamed of mastering.

But today, I want to spotlight one image in particular: a pair of razorbills standing close together on a rocky ledge by the sea.

Texture, Contrast, and Connection

It’s not that razorbills are the most elegant birds. Their plumage is simple—dark brown above, white below—but this photo captures something extraordinary. The contrast is brilliant. The clarity is so sharp I can almost feel the downy softness of their feathers and trace the texture of their chocolate-brown heads. The white bellies pop against the deep blue of the ocean, and the whole composition feels like a masterclass in natural lighting and framing.

A Quiet Moment of Devotion

What really gets me, though, is the sentiment. These birds aren’t just standing side by side—they’re touching heads, mirroring each other in a way that feels tender and intentional. There’s a quiet devotion in their posture, a kind of avian intimacy that’s rare to catch on camera. It’s a reminder that beauty isn’t always loud or flashy. Sometimes it’s found in the stillness, in the connection, in the way two creatures simply exist together.

This picture has it all—texture, color, emotion. And I’m so glad it found its way to my screen.

 

Squirrels, Shenanigans, and the Cat Who Judges Them All

 

Squirrels: Rats with Better PR?

Squirrels. You either love them or you’re plotting their downfall. There’s no middle ground. I’ve heard people say they’re “rats with better PR,” and honestly, it’s hard to argue. They’re fluffy, fast, and just mischievous enough to charm their way out of trouble.

If you ask Banner, my resident cat and full‑time backyard security officer, squirrels are rotten little interlopers. He spends countless hours stationed at the glass slider, tail flicking, eyes narrowed, ready to defend his territory. Give him the chance and he’d happily show them who really runs this household.

The Cat Who Cleared the Neighborhood

Shadow, the scourge of the squirrel neighborhood

Before Banner, I had another cat who has long since crossed the rainbow bridge. We lived in a lovely neighborhood full of trees, shrubs, and — you guessed it — squirrels. One day, my neighbor stopped by to thank me for “finally getting rid of the squirrel problem.” I had no idea what he meant until he explained that my fuzzy little companion had been catching squirrels and leaving only the fluffy tails behind.

Horrifying? Absolutely.
Unexpectedly heroic? According to my squirrel‑hating neighbor, yes.
My cat became a local legend — the silent, whiskered vigilante no one asked for but everyone (well, almost everyone) appreciated.

NC’s white squirrel

A Whole World of Squirrels

I’m not sure how many types of squirrels exist, but I know it’s a lot. I’ve seen white squirrels, black squirrels, red squirrels, and the classic grey. Are chipmunks part of the squirrel family? I think so. I once read there are more than 278 species, which feels like at least 200 too many if you ask the power companies.

Vancouver BC- black squirrel

Speaking of which — squirrels have knocked out the power grid more times than hackers ever have. One wrong leap and suddenly half the neighborhood is sitting in the dark, wondering why they can hear birds but not the TV.

Rare photo of Florida Squirrel

Squirrel Shenanigans & Forest Drama

Squirrels are also victims of petty theft. About 25% of their buried nuts get stolen — often by other squirrels. No honor among woodland thieves.

And then there’s the bird feeder drama. The acrobatics, the scolding, the dramatic falls. It’s like watching a tiny, furry soap opera unfold in real time. Banner watches with the intensity of someone who believes he could fix the entire situation if only I’d open the door.

squirrwl

Alaskan Squirrel

I’m Team Squirrel (Mostly)

Despite the chaos, I like squirrels. Their forgotten nuts grow into trees. Their antics make me laugh. And they’re great for photos — my camera loves them almost as much as Banner hates them.

So here’s to squirrels: the forest’s fuzzy little troublemakers. May your power stay on, your bird feeders survive, and your pets remain convinced they’re the true rulers of the backyard.

 


chipmunk