Not long ago, Jerry and I were reminiscing with our friend Berl Stevenson about the time our teen-agers –his and ours–got into mischief-making during a conference in San Diego. Either in front of the convention center or at the entrance to the conference hotel (can’t recall which) was a very large fountain. One evening when we arrived, we observed the fountain area to have been transformed into a veritable mountain of white foam. The gaping onlookers snickered and generously offered opinions as to what caused this soapy display, and I’m sure Jerry and I joined in the discussion. Many years later, a moment of mature confession transpired, and we learned that this artistic demonstration had evolved through the combined and wily efforts of Stevensons and Buxtons. Salvo soap lent a hand.
As impressive as that scene was those many years ago, it was as nothing compared to this.
It was as if someone had poured tons of coffee and milk into the ocean, then switched on a giant blender.
Suddenly the shoreline north of Sydney were transformed into the Cappuccino Coast.
Foam swallowed an entire beach and half the nearby buildings, including the local lifeguards’ centre, in a freak display of nature at Yamba in New South Wales.
One minute a group of teenage surfers were waiting to catch a wave, the next they were swallowed up in a giant bubble bath. The foam was so light that they could puff it out of their hands and watch it float away.