Treasures washed ashore provide a powerful message

In an old, converted mill building just a short drive from Methuen along the shores of the Merrimack River and nestled among sophisticated art studios showcasing stunning pottery, glistening glass objects and classic oil paintings, there lies a quirky little spot that might just change your way of thinking.

The name alone will beckon you, and as you enter The Museum of Lost Toys and Curiosities in Amesbury the rows of brightly colored plastic toys will probably evoke feelings of nostalgia. From tiny Army men to pink Barbie shoes and Pez dispensers, items hail from a variety of decades. But as you are flooded with warm memories of childhood, the adjoining exhibit might just make your skin crawl. Piles of white-washed bones of unknown origin give way to an assortment of twisted doll parts, disjointed limbs and heads with missing eyes, followed by an assortment of jagged knives, arranged in tidy order along the wall.

Owner and artist Corinn Flaherty admits that first-time visitors are sometimes a bit confused when they walk into the gallery space, but as they settle in and begin to make the connection, a clear message emerges. Peering into glass jars filled with colorful plastic bottle caps and seeing row upon row of plastic forks woven into a wall hanging that resembles fishnet, visitors are suddenly hit with the reality of what is before them. Every one of these articles has been picked up off of a strip of Plum Island beach that measures a mere one-half mile. The treasures are trash, and the message is dire.

When she first moved to Plum Island in 2011, Flaherty did not have a museum in mind. With a full-time position as director of the West Newbury Library, she settled into her coastal home, rescued a near-feral dog she named Roxy and began daily walks on the beach with her new pal.

“Roxy played a big role in all of this,” she says. “The museum never would have come to be without her.”
Without a dog that needed walking, she would not have been trekking along the sand on a blustery winter day, head down, when she discovered a plastic doll’s head stuck in the frozen sand. Picking it up and displaying it at home on her mantle, she began what quickly became an overwhelming collection of plastic toy shovels, hair combs, poker chips, goggles and more, amassing in bins outside her house. Flaherty is also an accomplished weaver, and the artist considered using certain items to incorporate into her art, but mostly she was gathering out of curiosity.
“The more I looked, the more I saw,” she says.

It was also a means of caring for her environment, as she poked through the washed-up plant material along the shoreline.

Walking 365 days a year near the mouth of the Merrimack, Flaherty sees what summer beachgoers do not, as the river’s spring snow-melt carries items from towns along its route to the ocean.

“There is a misconception that what people find on the beach has been left there by visitors,” she says, “but that’s not the case.”

As she collected, Flaherty began to see patterns emerge, and with her library media background, categorizing the items and researching their origins came naturally.

“I began to find countless plastic shotgun shell casings and learned that duck hunting takes place in the marshes, where the shell flies off into the grasses,” she says. “As for the many rubber fingertip protectors, who knew they were even still used, but my theory is that they came from bank workers and were discarded in the trash through the years.”

Methuen’s role as a shoe manufacturer must have a role in Flaherty’s shoe heel collection, delicate plastic heel forms in all shapes and sizes that she believes came from the factories along the river. Wooden bobbins no doubt date back to the textile factories in Haverhill, Methuen and Lowell.

While it was fascinating to Flaherty to collect such an array of artifacts, as the collection grew, so did her awareness.

“I became more and more appalled at the amount of trash, especially single-use plastic such as cutlery and bottlecaps, that was accumulating on our shores. Plastic that will outlive all of us,” she added.

In 2021, while searching for a studio space for her woven art, she came across a large space in Amesbury that could accommodate her collection, as well.

“My initial intention was to share my quirky finds, but I hoped to also bring awareness to the alarming marine pollution issue,” she says. “I felt that people needed to see all of this in one place to realize the impact.”

“Alone, a single discarded paintbrush doesn’t say much,” says Flaherty. “But when you display all of this together, a much bigger story emerges.”

What opened as an art installation began to morph into an opportunity to educate the public.

“My hope is that visitors will see that all of this was picked up along a mere half-mile stretch of shoreline,” she says. “If we make conscious everyday choices, such as using a real fork with our lunch instead of a plastic one, we can have a lasting impact on the environment.”

Flaherty admits that she began collecting as an artist, simply out of curiosity. But her role has expanded to educator, environmentalist and Protector of the Planet, as she shares the awareness she has gained with others.
“I guess my collecting now serves a greater purpose,” she says. “Every choice we makes affects our environment.”

The Museum of Lost Toys and Curiosities is a non-profit, and is open by appointment, as Flaherty continues her work at the library, but she is open during local art walks and is always accommodating to school and scouting groups for tours and special hours. Admission is free, and all donations to the museum go toward expanding the mission to encourage people to become stewards of their environment and make conscious choices. The dream, for her, is to someday have her museum on Plum Island, but commercial space is limited. Flaherty hopes to inspire other residents of coastal communities to follow her lead and create their own museums, while cleaning up the shoreline and spreading awareness.

When asked what the most unique item she has encountered on her daily walks with Roxy is, Flaherty laughs.

“It was just recently, on a totally clear day,” she says. “I saw this huge yellow thing in the distance; when we got closer, I saw that it was an enormous stuffed cheeseburger. I kicked it all the way home. I probably won’t keep it … too much bacteria on a plush toy. But who knows? For now, I am leaving it outside to cure.”

More info: plumislandmuseum.org and on Instagram: @plum_island_museum.
Patricia Bruno is a Methuen native, currently living in Haverhill. A writer and photographer, she is also the owner of The Winged Rabbit gift shop in downtown Haverhill.