Duckey Stones

The gales have subsided at last and the sky has been blue all day but I fear it won't be for long. This time the sea defences have held up but piles of rubbish have been washed ashore, mostly plastic rubbish, nylon lines and fishing hooks, drift wood and corpses including a headless dolphin and two cows. The cows were probably grazing somewhere on the banks of the Exe, wandered down to the river where the bank broke away and the cows slid into the river to be washed down to the sea. Time was when more exciting treasurers could be found, for the very lucky a Spanish Dubloon might waiting for the sharp eyed treasure seeker, more often it could be a Duckey Stone. A couple of generations ago children would use these to play what in our day we called Jacks or Knuckle Stones. To some the Duckey Stone was no more than a piece of dull grey metal but to the wise it had once been a Maria Therese Dollar. Perhaps there are still a few lying among the pebbles - who knows?