Every Piece Has a Story: The Mystery of Sea-Worn Pottery

One of the questions I’m asked most often is, “Where do you find all of your beach pottery?” The simple answer is: after many, many hours of searching.

Unlike sea glass, which can still occasionally be found in reasonable quantities, beach pottery has become increasingly scarce. A walk along the shore can last hours without uncovering a single decorated fragment. Many beaches that once yielded beautiful pottery now produce very little, making each discovery feel even more special.

What makes beach pottery so captivating is that every fragment was once part of someone’s life. Long before it was shaped and polished by the sea, it may have been a treasured dinner plate, a teacup, a serving dish or even part of a decorative ornament. Some pieces may have belonged to local Shetland homes, while others could have travelled incredible distances across the North Sea, carried by tides and storms before eventually washing ashore.

The blue and white patterns are among my favourites. Some fragments hint at willow patterns or delicate floral designs, while others reveal tiny glimpses of windmills, buildings or intricate borders. The red transferware is equally fascinating, often featuring Victorian floral motifs that have survived remarkably well despite decades beneath the waves. Occasionally, I even find heart-shaped holes naturally worn through the pottery by the relentless action of sand and pebbles—a beautiful reminder of nature’s artistry.

Many of these pieces are impossible to identify with certainty. They may date back over a century, originating from British potteries such as Staffordshire, or perhaps they were once carried aboard fishing vessels, merchant ships or steamers that regularly visited Shetland. Others may simply have come from everyday family kitchens, broken long ago before finding a second life in the sea.

The ocean has spent years, sometimes decades, smoothing every sharp edge and giving each fragment its soft, tactile finish. No two pieces are ever alike, and that’s what makes creating jewellery from them so rewarding. Rather than allowing these forgotten fragments to remain buried on the shoreline, I carefully transform them into wearable keepsakes that preserve a small piece of maritime history.

Every pendant I make is completely unique. Not only because of its shape, but because its journey can never be repeated. Somewhere, long ago, it was part of a much larger story. Today, it begins a new chapter.

Whether you’re drawn to the rich cobalt blues of traditional transferware or the warm burgundy tones of antique red patterns, you’re wearing far more than a piece of jewellery—you’re wearing a tiny fragment of history, shaped by the sea and lovingly rediscovered on the shores of Shetland.