Before it lives up to its scientific name — Callinectes sapidus or tasty, beautiful swimmer — the blue crab goes through a couple of ugly larval stages. Fortunately, its survival doesn't depend on its being a beautiful baby.
While standing in front of a fish house scene complete with rocking chairs, Rodney Kemp spins a whopper about a bolt of lightning turning North Carolina's only menhaden plant into a towering inferno.
High above Earth, a passing satellite blinks in recognition of North Carolina's unique geography: A line of barrier islands protects the mainland from the ocean's energy, channeling its flow through narrow inlets. Behind the barriers, irregular shorelines define a system of shallow sounds, bays and tidal creeks that are intricately tied to the ocean's will. Mighty rivers appear as threads connecting mountains to piedmont to coastal plain.
These little ocean-going envoys are called sea beans, and though many of them really are beans, they do not come from the sea itself. They are seeds fom tropical vines, plants and trees that grow in faraway rain forests. They fall into the streams and rivers of the lower latitudes, and the water carries them to the oceans. There, sea beans can float with the currents for hundreds or thousands of miles, and for many months, sometimes years.
