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thanks to our wonderful supporters news of the nautilus has reached Canada, Greece, Spain and the Netherlands- help us spread the word to YOUR neck of the woods!
Josiah and Ridgely give $9,000 to Dr.Ward
for research, under water cameras, and tagging the nautilus
Here is what Josiah and Ridgely have to say: "It's great that we've almost reached our goal and met
Dr.Ward. It was a great expeirience."
WATCH US GIVE DR WARD THE CHECK ON KOMO news:
WATCH JOSIAH & RIDGELY'S SAMOAN VIDEO BLOG ON "EARTH RANGERS":
THANK YOU FOR CARING!
Follow this link to donate any amount. Please let us know if you are giving this as a girft, or in another persons name and if you provide an address and or email, we'll be overjoyed to share our good news! All of the money you give goes DIRECTLY to fund the Dr. Ward's data gathering researcb, so that we can move towards getting the nautilus on the official endangered species list.
A big HUGE thank you from Josiah, Ridgely, their families, friends and all of the nautilus lovers in the world. Thank you for making a difference and for helping us to make a difference!
The Chambered Nautilus (poem)
This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sail the unshadowed main,--
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,
And coral reefs lie bare,
Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.
Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl;
Wrecked is the ship of pearl!
And every chambered cell,
Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell,
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell,
Before thee lies revealed,--
Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed!
Year after year beheld the silent toil
That spread his lustrous coil;
Still, as the spiral grew,
He left the past year's dwelling for the new,
Stole with soft step its shining archway through,
Built up its idle door,
Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.
Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,
Child of the wandering sea,
Cast from her lap, forlorn!
From thy dead lips a clearer note is born
Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn;
While on mine ear it rings,
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:--
Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!
By Oliver Wendall Holmes (1809-94).