140 ff> o s t e I b i a 



all seemed like a fairy tale. Our sur- 

 roundings were perfect. Our new 

 friends overwhelmed us with kindnesses. 

 If only the algae were forthcoming ! 



There was low tide early the next 

 morning, and down to the beach we 

 hurried. With a feeling of despair we 

 scanned the rocks, for disappointment 

 stared us in the face. To one accus- 

 tomed to the mammoth seaweeds of 

 the Straits of Fuca, which aggressive- 

 ly compel attention, the Waianae 

 beach seemed absolutely barren. But, 

 finally, a little, odd-appearing plant 

 was discovered, and then a second, and 

 down under a ledge of rock a bed of 

 queer red bags, and, in a word, it was 

 six weeks before we were able to stop 

 collecting algae on the shores of 

 Waianae. 



There was found to be very little 

 difference between low and high tide, 



