American Profile
by Linda Jarmon
Saccardi

There's gold in his museum. And silver. And
jewels. And there are coins - thousands of them - all returned
from the sea. But if you ask Dale Clifton about the most
valuable treasure in his collection, he'll point to a
handcrafted vase resting in a glass case and share its
story.
"My father made that vase when he
was a boy during the Depression, back when nobody had any
money. He brought it home from school unglazed. His mother was
so proud of it that she saved her egg money for four weeks,
gave it to her son, and said, 'Now you take this vase back to
the school and have them glaze it.' My father was shocked,"
says Clifton, "and said to her, 'But Mother, we can't afford
that!' And she said, 'One day your children or grandchildren
are going to look at that like I do, and it's my responsibility
to make sure it's still here for them to
enjoy."
Clifton says it's his
responsibility to future generations to share and protect the
treasures he retrieves from the sea and the beaches, just as
his grandmother did many years
ago."
I want people to be able to shake
hands with history," he says.
He helps them do that by
recovering the past from the sea - through beachcombing, both
with and without metal detectors, through controlled
archeological digs along the shore, and by skindiving to old
wrecks in the relatively shallow Deleware Bay and along the
Atlantic coastline. The wreckage of one ship was discovered in
40 feet of water.
Clifton found his first coin, a
1785 King George III halfpenny, more than 20 years ago. He
simply picked it up from the beach during a walk. Since then,
he has salvaged more than 200,000 coins. But coins are just a
fraction of the treasure he has pulled from beneath the sea and
dug from the sand of Delaware and Maryland beaches near Fenwick
Island, Del., a town of 198 people. Gold bars, chains,
silverware, goblets, porcelain bowls and pottery, weapons, and
jewelry all have been released from their underwater tombs to
be enshrined in his museum.
A self-taught scuba diver, Dale
steers his boat to areas of the Atlantic Ocean and Delaware Bay
where shipwrecks have been recorded. Depending on the size of
the site, as many as eight crewmembers
assist.
Among the treasures he
finds most fascinating are the bits of everyday life such as a
child's tiny shoe or a fragment of a porcelain doll's head.
Such items, he says, enable him to keep his perspective by
reminding him that first and foremost, the ill-fated ships he
salvages contained people.
"Many times," he says, "ships
such as the Faithful Steward, which sank in 1785 just off the
southern Delaware coastline, contained entire families. They
were bound for America to begin a new life together, and every
generation was on that ship. And when it sank, many times the
family line and the family name perished with its members. I'd
like to think my museum keeps their memory
alive."
The DiscoverSea Shipwreck Museum
in Fenwick Island - the town looks out on the sea from the
southeastern corner of the state - holds hundreds of artifacts,
each with a story to tell. Yet the multitude of treasures on
display there represent only one-tenth of the pieces of the
past he has salvaged. He has artifacts on loan to seven museums
around the world. He receives no state, local, federal or
private funding, and no admission fee is
charged.
He is paid a salary from the
owner of Sea Shell City, where his second-floor museum is
located. He also receives support from the Sussex County and
Delaware state tourism offices, and jokes that he is "artifact
rich and money poor."
"This museum belongs to the
public," declares Clifton. "I'm kind of like a time detective
returning items from the past to their owners. It is my way of
making sure our past, our history, isn't
lost."
His inspiration, he says, comes
from his own family, who instilled in him the morals and ethics
he feels are still important
today.
"I love it when families come in
together and get excited together. Sharing an experience makes
them closer," he says. "People are going 'wow,' and that makes
me feel good."
The excitement doesn't end at the
museum. He "wows" people throughout the state by sharing his
take on maritime history with an area elder hostel, by
providing traveling treasure chests for elementary school
educators, and by distributing informational videos and CDs on
seafaring and shipwrecks. Investigation into the past is
ongoing. (My mother was a librarian, he says, explaining his
propensity for research.) And he has not one, but three books
in progress.
Still, it's the call of the sea
and the challenge of unra
veling the mysteries of the past that
push him to don his gear and dive.
"
The beach and the ocean are the
last frontiers," says Clifton. ÄúHow can we ignore
that?"
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