Shelling in a Post-Ian World: How Southwest Florida’s Beaches Have Changed

We're approaching the three year anniversary since Hurricane Ian swept across Southwest Florida, and for those of us who live and breathe shelling, the beaches haven’t been the same since. The storm didn’t just push sand around where we could see it—it fundamentally changed the landscape miles offshore. Those changes, combined with post-storm renourishment projects, have rewritten the “rules” of shelling in our area.

Before Ian: A Flat Seafloor and Easy Shell Rolls

Before Ian, the near coastal Gulf floor in most places was relatively flat. Shells would simply tumble and roll toward shore with little more than a moderate breeze or shifting tide. A strong wind might create epic shell piles, but even on calmer days, it wasn’t unusual to find a steady supply of treasures waiting on the beach.

After Ian: Trenches, Sandbars, and Trapped Shells

After Ian and the other storms from 2024, my observations tell me the seafloor is no longer flat. Broad sandbars and deep trenches now stretch for miles offshore. These trenches act like giant holding pens, trapping enormous quantities of shells. Without strong winds or powerful currents to lift them out, those shells remain hidden—sometimes for months at a time.

When the right combination of extreme low tides and onshore winds finally arrives, these “shell vaults” open, and the release can be spectacular. This new reality means that shelling success is often about timing your trips to those rare moments when the trenches give up their bounty.

(See diagram below for a side-by-side look at how shell movement has changed before and after Ian.)

The Renourishment Wild Card

In the wake of Ian, many beaches went through massive renourishment projects to combat erosion. Millions of cubic yards of sand were dredged from offshore and piped onto area beaches. This sand often contained both whole and broken shells buried within it.

These renourishment shells don’t arrive in predictable patterns like naturally deposited shells do. Instead, they’re revealed in bursts—sometimes after higher-than-normal tides, sometimes after rough surf, and sometimes without warning at all. It’s why a seemingly barren stretch of beach can suddenly become a shell collector’s dream the next week.

Keewaydin’s Rise as a Shelling Hotspot

Keewaydin Island became a buzzword for shellers after Ian. In my opinion, it’s receiving shells that were meant to roll ashore in the Ten Thousand Islands. Now, with offshore trenches redirecting shell movement, many of those shells seem to be funneled northward until they run aground on Keewaydin’s sandbars. On extreme low tides, those sandbars give up piles of shells that feel almost untouched.

Lover’s Key and the Mystery of East Coast Species

Lover’s Key tells another story entirely. Some shellers swear the post-storm shelling is better, others say worse—but everyone agrees it’s different. I’ve personally found shells here that I usually only see on the Atlantic coast: helmets, scotch bonnets, bittersweets, Cabrits murex, carrier shells, and alphabet cones and fighting conchs that are distinctly East Coast varieties.

At first, I suspected the renourishment sand here had been brought in from the Atlantic, which would explain the mix. My research showed otherwise—it came from 20 miles off Sanibel Island in the Gulf. Could the storms have carried East Coast shells into the Gulf? Or are these shells coming from deeper offshore deposits we simply didn’t tap before? It’s a puzzle I’m still trying to solve.

Adapting Your Shelling Strategy in the New Normal

If shelling pre-Ian was about reading a tide chart, post-Ian shelling is about thinking like a shell. Picture yourself rolling along the ocean floor—where would you get stuck? Where would you pile up if a current suddenly shoved you sideways?

Here’s what works for me now:

• Time your trips for extreme lows and after strong winds. These are the moments trenches release their shells.

• Don’t ignore “empty” beaches. Shifts in current can uncover shell piles overnight.

• Learn to read sandbar formations. If you can stand on a sandbar at low tide, you’re standing on a natural shell collector.

• Check renourished beaches often. Their hidden deposits resurface unpredictably and can yield surprising species.

Closing Thoughts

Hurricane Ian was a turning point in the history of Gulf shelling. In a matter of hours, the storm carved new underwater landscapes that will influence shelling for years to come. While some spots have lost their easy bounty, others have become unexpected treasure troves.

For me, that’s part of the magic. Shelling now requires more patience, more timing, and more curiosity. The shells are still out there—sometimes just waiting in the trenches—until the Gulf decides to let them go.