A thank-you for your maritime archaeology volunteers: a photo of the old wreck timbers at low tide, a ship's nail from the finds tray or a diver's hand on the survey line as a jigsaw

Written by the team behind Puzzlify. Puzzlify is our product, so weigh what follows with that in mind. We've tried to make this useful even if you never use it. We're not affiliated with any shipwreck, wreck site, maritime archaeology society, diving club, foreshore recording group, museum, maritime trust, harbour authority, coastguard, landowner, local council, heritage body, heritage funder, sponsor, school or community organisation. Nothing here is legal, historical, archaeological, protected wreck, salvage, diving, tide and coastal safety, first aid, health and safety, safeguarding, bereavement, copyright, trade mark, photography permission or employment advice; check your own group's guidance on gifts, photos, the site, the finds, the tides, children and people's details.

It's a grey, still October morning, an hour before low water, and the tide is pulling back from a wide stretch of muddy sand below the sea wall. As the water goes, a row of dark wooden stumps appears, then another, curving in a long gentle line: the ribs of an old ship, buried for most of every day and uncovered for a couple of hours at a time. A retired electrician called Graham is standing beside them in waders, holding a clipboard in a plastic bag. "She was a coastal trader," he tells a couple who have stopped on their dog walk. "Coal one way, timber the other. We think she went aground in a storm about two hundred years ago. We come down every spring tide and measure every timber, because the sea's taking a little bit more each winter." Further up the beach, on a folding table by the slipway, a volunteer called Joy is showing a Year 6 class a tray of finds. She holds up a long, square, rusty nail. "This held her together," she says. "A blacksmith made it by hand. Every single one." A boy turns it over in his gloved fingers. "Did the sailors know their ship was going to sink?" he asks. Joy is quiet for a moment. "I hope they got ashore," she says. "We're still trying to find out. That's part of why we're here."

If you want to say thank you to people like Graham and Joy, this is a guide to doing it well, with or without a puzzle.

Who we mean

Maritime archaeology isn't only deep-sea diving. It's kept alive by many kinds of volunteers: the foreshore recording volunteers who walk the tideline after storms and log timbers, fish traps, old jetties and hulks as they appear, the survey volunteers who measure, photograph and draw wreck timbers between tides, the volunteer divers who help survey and monitor wrecks underwater under trained supervision and within the law, the finds volunteers who clean, record, conserve and pack the nails, pottery, rope, coins and fittings that the sea gives up, the archive volunteers who search ship registers, insurance records, lifeboat logs, newspapers and harbour books to put a name to a wreck, the guides who lead walks to the hulks and explain what they were, the education volunteers who welcome school groups, the event volunteers who run open days, low-tide walks and finds days, the oral history volunteers who record fishermen, pilots, divers and lifeboat crews, and the trustees and founders who get the permissions, the insurance and the grants and keep the whole thing afloat.

Some belong to a maritime archaeology society or a diving club. Some volunteer with a museum, a coastal heritage project or a foreshore recording scheme. Some just walk the same beach every week and send in what they see. What they share is a race against the sea: recording things before the next storm takes them.

Words first

Before anything else: the most valuable thank-you is a few sentences that are specific. Not "thanks for all you do" but "you showed my daughter the hand-made nail and she drew the whole ship for her homework." Name the person, name the moment, and say what it meant. That works in a card, an email to the volunteer coordinator, a note in the society newsletter or a few words at the end-of-season gathering. Everything else in this guide is optional.

Tides, mud and protected wrecks come first

The coast is beautiful and it is also dangerous. Tides come in faster than people expect, and they can cut you off behind a sandbar or against a cliff. Soft mud and quicksand can trap a leg in seconds. Wreck timbers are slippery, splintered and often studded with old iron. Please don't go out to a wreck on your own, don't follow volunteers onto the foreshore without being invited, check the tide times, and always come back well before the water turns. Diving on wrecks is a specialist activity that needs training, the right equipment, a buddy and, on many sites, permission; never ask a diver to take a risk for a photo. Many wrecks are protected by law, and in many countries anything recovered from a wreck must be reported, often to a receiver of wreck or similar authority, even if it's just a nail. Don't take anything from a wreck site, don't dig around timbers, and leave metal detecting to those with permission. Some wrecks are also war graves or the resting place of people who drowned, and deserve particular respect. If anyone is in trouble at the coast, call the emergency services and ask for the coastguard.

Ships, sailors and the sea

Wrecks are some of the most vivid places in archaeology because they are moments frozen in time: a ship that left one harbour and never reached the next, with its cargo, its tools, its crew's belongings and sometimes its cooking pots still aboard. Around many coasts there are thousands of them: medieval cogs, warships, fishing boats, colliers, coastal traders, emigrant ships, and steam vessels from the last century. On the foreshore there are other traces of life on the water too: fish traps woven from wattle, old landing stages, abandoned hulks left to rot in creeks, and the stumps of piers. Volunteers help piece together who built these things, who worked on them and what happened to them, often from very little evidence.

An honest word about the past

Good maritime archaeology volunteers don't romanticise the sea. Wrecks often mean drowned sailors, grieving families and communities who depended on the water and were sometimes devastated by it. Some ships carried enslaved people or the goods of the slave trade and empire, and honest groups say so plainly. Wrecking and plundering of stranded ships happened too, though often less dramatically than the legends claim. Some wrecks are war graves. And there's a lot we don't know; a careful guide will tell you when a name or a date is a best guess. If you're thanking someone who helps people understand a wreck, you're often thanking them for telling these stories with care, and for remembering the people as well as the timbers.

When to send it

There's no wrong time, but a few moments tend to land well: the end of the summer diving season, after the big autumn and spring tides when foreshore surveys happen, after a school visit or open day your family enjoyed, after a winter storm when volunteers have been out recording what was uncovered, at a volunteer's milestone anniversary, when the group publishes a report or names a wreck, or when a find goes on display in the local museum. A note that arrives in a dark January, after a cold, muddy survey, can mean more than one in the sunshine.

Why a jigsaw can fit

Maritime archaeology is a jigsaw already: a few timbers, a nail, a line in a newspaper, a name in a register, slowly fitted together into the story of a ship. A puzzle made from a photo of the wreck or a find echoes that patient work. It's private, it's made from a photo you chose, and the note you write appears at the end, after they've put the last piece in. It isn't a substitute for the words, but it can be a nice way to deliver them.

For the foreshore recording volunteers

These are the people out on the beach after every storm, with a phone, a tape measure and a tide table, logging what the sea has uncovered before it covers it again. A photo of the tideline at dawn with the timbers just showing, or of the volunteer team in waders at the water's edge, makes a lovely puzzle. In the note, mention something concrete: the fish trap they spotted, the timber they recorded before it washed away, the winter they never missed a spring tide.

For the survey volunteers

Survey volunteers measure every rib and plank, take overlapping photographs, draw plans on waterproof paper and race the incoming tide. Their careful records are often all that will survive once the sea finishes its work. A photo of the wreck from above (taken safely, from the sea wall or a cliff path), or of a survey drawing pinned to a board, suits them well. A note that says "your plan is how my grandchildren will know she was here" is the kind of thanks surveyors seldom hear.

For the volunteer divers

Volunteer divers work in cold, dark, often murky water, laying survey lines, recording timbers and monitoring wrecks for damage, always with a buddy and always within the rules. Most people will never see what they see. With their permission, an underwater photo of a survey line along the timbers, a diver's hand marking a measurement, or the boat at the dive site on a calm morning, makes a striking puzzle. Mention the talk or the photographs that brought the wreck to life for you.

For the finds volunteers

Every nail, sherd, shoe, button and coil of rope that comes from a wreck needs washing, recording, photographing, conserving and packing, often in a back room at the local museum. Finds volunteers do this with patience and care, and help make sure everything is properly reported. With permission, a photo of a single find, a hand-made nail, a clay pipe bowl, a pewter spoon or a piece of pottery, makes a clear and lovely puzzle. Mention the object your family remembered.

For the archive volunteers

Archive volunteers search ship registers, crew lists, insurance records, lifeboat logs, harbour books and old newspapers to give a wreck its name and its people. They are the ones who find the sailor's name, the cargo and the date. A photo of an old newspaper report or register page, used with permission, or of the archive table piled with folders, suits them. A note that says "you found her name" will mean a great deal.

For the guides

Guides lead low-tide walks out to the hulks, tell the stories on the sea wall, and manage to keep a group of walkers interested in a few black stumps in the sand on a cold morning. A photo of the guide's hand pointing out the line of the hull (with their permission), or of the walk group at the water's edge, makes a good puzzle. Quote something they said that stuck with you.

For the education volunteers

Education volunteers meet school groups on the beach or in the museum, count children on and off the sand, hand out gloves and let small hands hold a nail made two centuries ago. They make the sea's history feel real. A child's drawing of the ship under sail, scanned with the family's permission, makes an excellent small puzzle for them. In the note, the child's own words are best: "I held a real ship's nail. Thank you."

For the event volunteers

Finds days, low-tide walks, festival stands, talks and open days don't happen by accident. Event volunteers carry gazebos down slipways, laminate tide warnings, run the craft table and pack everything away in the wind. A photo of the finds table on the harbour wall, or of the festival stand with its flags, makes a warm puzzle. Mention the event your family went to.

For the oral history volunteers

Some of the best stories about a coast belong to the people who worked on it: fishermen, pilots, lifeboat crews, divers who first found a wreck decades ago, and families who lost someone at sea. Oral history volunteers record these memories carefully, sometimes with great sensitivity. A photo of the harbour where an interview took place, or of a bench overlooking the bay, suits them. A note that names whose voice they saved is a thoughtful thank-you.

For the trustees and the founders

Somebody had to get permission from the landowner and the authorities, write the grant bid, buy the waders and the survey tapes, arrange the insurance and the dive training, and keep the group going through quiet years. Trustees and founders carry worries most volunteers never see. A "then and now" pair works beautifully: an old photograph of the wreck when it was first uncovered, beside the same view today. Mention how long they've been at it.

When a long-serving volunteer steps down

When someone who has walked the same tideline or dived the same wreck for twenty years decides to stop, a puzzle of the place they cared for can be a gentle gift. Choose a photo of their favourite view, perhaps the timbers at sunrise, use the larger piece counts for a long, slow solve, and let the note say what the group will miss. Ask the coordinator what they'd like; some people prefer a quiet card to a fuss.

In memory of a volunteer

If a volunteer has died, a puzzle made from a photo of the coast they loved can be a way for family or fellow volunteers to remember them. Go gently, especially where the sea itself is part of a family's grief. Ask the family first, keep the note simple, and let them decide whether they want it at all. A bench, a line in the newsletter or a donation to a sea rescue charity may be what they'd prefer.

Not just in one country

Maritime archaeology happens on every coast, lake and river with a history of boats, and the rules differ widely: who owns a wreck, which sites are protected, what must be reported and who may dive. Some wrecks are sacred or deeply sensitive to the communities and nations connected to them. Whatever the place, the same principle holds: thank the people who record and protect them, specifically and kindly, and follow the local rules.

Photo ideas and consent

• the wreck timbers emerging at low tide, from a safe spot on the shore
• the line of the hull from the sea wall or cliff path above
• a hand-made nail, clay pipe or sherd from the finds tray, with permission
• a diver's hand on the survey line, with their permission
• an old newspaper report or register page, used with permission
• the survey team in waders at the water's edge, with permission
• the harbour or bay at dawn
• a child's drawing of the ship under sail from a school visit

Ask the people in the photo before you use it, and ask the society, museum or authority before using photos of finds, the store or the archive. Volunteers are often concentrating on careful work against the tide, so don't interrupt them, ask before photographing them, wait for a pause, and respect anyone who says no. Keep visitors, children, boat names, number plates and anyone's details out of the frame unless you have clear permission. If a wreck is a war grave or the site of a known loss of life, think carefully about whether it's the right image at all.

Getting the JPG right

Use a JPG, sharp and well lit. Wrecks on the foreshore are dark timbers against wet sand, so low morning or evening light helps the shapes stand out, and reflections in the wet sand can be beautiful. Keep the horizon level, crop out large expanses of plain grey sky or flat sea, which make hard, frustrating puzzles, and fill the frame with the timbers, the sand and the texture. Underwater photos are often blue or green and slightly soft; choose the sharpest one you have and let the diver pick their favourite. Wipe the lens first, because sea spray leaves smears.

Privacy and an optional PIN

Puzzlify puzzles are private links. You can add an optional PIN so only the person you send it to can open it. Photos aren't used to train AI and aren't shared with third parties.

Say it's from you

Put your name, or your family's, in the note at the end so they know who sent it. A puzzle that ends with "from the Year 6 class who still hope the sailors got ashore" is a thank-you, not a mystery.

Piece counts

How to send it

Make the puzzle, write the note, publish the link, and send it by email or message, or print the link as a QR code inside a card. The recipient doesn't need an account or an app; it plays in the browser on a phone, tablet or computer.

Note examples

• "Thank you for giving her back her name."
• "He still talks about holding a real ship's nail. Thank you for showing him."
• "You measured every timber before the sea took it. From all of us, thank you."
• "We'll never walk that beach at low tide again without thinking of you."

Honest pricing

The preview is free, so you can see how it looks before deciding anything. Publishing the link costs one credit (€3.99), or less per puzzle with a bundle. It's a digital puzzle, not a printed one, so nothing arrives in the post. If a card and a few sentences feel like enough, they are.

Ideas that are not a puzzle

• a handwritten card, perhaps with a little sketch of the ship
• a short message to the society or volunteer coordinator naming the volunteer, so it reaches them
• a donation to the group's survey or conservation fund in their name, or to a sea rescue charity
• an offer of your own time: helping on a finds day, stewarding an open day or making the tea after a cold survey
• a family photograph, old postcard or memory of the wreck or the harbour, offered to the archive if they'd like it

If a photo puzzle feels right as well, choose the timbers, a find, the bay or a survey drawing, take it from a safe spot with permission, keep visitors, children and anyone's details out of the frame, pick a piece count that suits them, and write the note in your own words. You can make a free preview here and decide later whether to send it.

Whatever you send, the most important part is the sentence that sounds like you, written to the person who walks the tideline after every storm, who measures the old timbers before the sea takes them, and who helps a child hold a hand-made nail and understand that real sailors once trusted their lives to it, one tide at a time, one jigsaw piece at a time.

Written by the small team behind Puzzlify (info@puzzlify.app). Not legal, historical, archaeological, protected wreck, salvage, diving, tide and coastal safety, first aid, health and safety, safeguarding, bereavement, copyright, trade mark, photography permission or employment advice. Check your own group's guidance on gifts, photos, the site, the finds, the tides, children and people's details.