The velelle in the Bay of Silence in Sestri.
The beach was different from usual, and I noticed it immediately. In the Bay of Silence, on that March 13, 2024, the eye-catching feature wasn’t the water or the houses overlooking the sea, but an unusual presence, almost as silent as the place itself. The velelle were everywhere, scattered along the shore like small, translucent blue fragments. Walking slowly, I tried not to step on them, even though the sea had already brought them back to shore, with no possibility of return.
Photographing them was inevitable. Not for sensationalism, but to capture a moment that had something fragile and poignant about it. Seen up close, the velelle seem delicate, almost unreal objects: a thin sail, a light body, colors changing with the light. Yet there they were, motionless, piled next to each other, as if the bay had decided to gather them all together. The contrast with the calm sea was stark, almost unsettling.
The Bay of Silence, on days like this, amplifies every detail. The sound of the waves is minimal, the wind barely perceptible, and for this very reason, the presence of the velella jellyfish becomes even more evident. Looking at them, I felt not annoyance, but a kind of respect. They seemed to narrate a passage, a natural cycle that is rarely noticed, except when it arrives all at once, so close to our feet.
Velella jellyfish, also called Velella velella, are not jellyfish, although they are often confused with them. They are small colonial animals that live in the open sea and are carried by the wind thanks to their characteristic thin sail. When currents and storm surges change direction, they inevitably wash ashore, especially in spring. It’s not a rare occurrence, but it’s surprising every time, because it transforms the beach into something completely different, at least for a few days.
While taking the photo, I was thinking about how discreet the sea can be even when it shows its consequences. The velella jellyfish make no noise, attracting no attention except from those who are truly watching. They remain there, until time and water completely erase them. At that moment, the Bay of Silence seemed even more in keeping with its name, as if it were silently accompanying this transition too.
Have you ever seen the beach change from one day to the next? Add a comment or go to the bottom of the site to read what other visitors have written.
Photos taken with Gopro Hero 10 black.
The Velella velella, also known as the St. Peter’s or St. John’s boat, is a colony of hydrozoans of the Porpitidae family. It is often found in all oceans, on the shores or at a maximum depth of 1-2 cm in the water, with a preference for warm or temperate waters. Like other cnidarians (coelenterates), the Velella velella is a carnivorous animal. It captures its prey, usually plankton, using its tentacles, which contain toxins. These toxins, while effective against prey, are harmless to humans, as they cannot penetrate the skin and do not cause any reaction. However, it’s best to avoid touching your eyes after handling a Velella.
Continue on Wikipedia
Velella on the Bay of Silence in Sestri – Les vélelles dans la Baie du Silence à Sestri – Las velelas en la Bahía del Silencio en Sestri – As velelas na Baía do Silêncio em Sestri – Velella in der Bucht der Stille in Sestri – Sứa buồm tại Vịnh Tĩnh Lặng ở Sestri – 塞斯特里寂静湾的帆水母 – セストリの静寂の湾に打ち上げられたベレラ
The text of this post was written with the help of ChatGPT, a language model from OpenAI.
