I found you up-turned and half-buried in the sand; a token, I am sure, of some coastal tragedy. I picked you up, light as a feather but still intact, and moved you to higher ground. Your new home, until the energy of this coast moves you on again, is now well-above the tide line. I scooped sand around and over your base to anchor you to the dune and angle your face towards the sea. Now you are upright; a small beacon that is visible, once more, to others that might stroll this beach. I sit with you awhile and contemplate what misfortune you represent – maybe a recent, local loss or a longer-term grief associated with HMAS Sydney? The family who gifted you to the waves chose a sturdy and buoyant construction that has enabled you to survive the wind and waves of this excitable coast. You are a travelling memorial: taking a family’s message of respect, sadness and remembrance to others that you encounter on your journey. I was touched by the loss that you represent. However, my thoughts will remain unknown to the people that gently set you on your way, just as the focus of their memorial will remain unknown to me.