Yes We Clam!

Freshly rinsed clams trying desperately to escape the bucket.

Clams in my net. I am personally responsible for their untimely deaths.

The mighty huntress. In my left hand I hold the clam gun. Action shot to follow.

Tom shows how it is done. First you must find a little hole in the sand indicating a clam lurks beneath the surface. Then you plunge the clam gun down over the hole as far as you can and pull up a column of sand using suction. Hopefully the clam is in the column of sand. If it is you put it in your net and go after another one. If the clam is not in the sand you go back in the hole and dig down further. If you still don't get it you move to a new location.

Saturday, after the mail route, I went to the beach house with Tom. It was a clam tide weekend and so we loaded up dig supplies (clam gun, nets, lanterns) and drove up the beach to the spot that he swears offers up the best digging. I don't think I am allowed to reveal the location. Ever since we moved up here its been "clam this, clam tide that". As a vegetarian I poo pooed all the clam talk. I wonder if I must surrender my veggie credentials after this weekend. Why did I agree to participate in such a barbaric activity? Peer pressure. Plain and simple. I mean, everyone is doing it. Matt has already been initiated. I was beginning to feel left out.

Before going digging I said if I caught one I would eat a clam. I am backpedaling now. See, I didn't realize that when we dug them up parts of the clams would be wiggling outside of the shell. I thought everything would be all hidden inside the clam, no fuss, no muss. But that is not how it works. This fleshy, squirming thing-a-ma-bob hangs out the end all, "help me! help me!, the Horror!, the Horror!". I am sooo not down with that (tiny screams are ringing in my ears).

We bagged our limit of 15 clams each and clams are on the menu tonight. I will probably take a bite. If I do, it won't be because I am holding to my word. It will be peer pressure all over again.

Update: I put a bite of clam in my mouth and was chewing the rubbery awfulness when Matt said, "ha ha. you are no longer a vegetarian". So I pulled the partially chewed gelatinous mass out of my mouth and put it on his plate. Verdict: I don't like clams. It is not a sacrifice to keep them out of my mouth.