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Dan and Irene Go Clamming

Dear Chowderheads,

Hello all. Thought I would relay our new experience as clam diggers. Number one lesson, don't go to the Kenai Peninsula on Memorial Day weekend. Seems this is the weekend that locals and natives celebrate the end of winter and the arrival of summer. Also is the short time span before the tourists begin to overwhelm.

We initially figured on getting a cabin to spend our evenings in, so left the tent home. There were no rooms to be had on the whole peninsula that we checked that would not have been less than a mortgage payment. A can of Planters peanuts - the small can - could be had for a mere $12 at the local store. What we did find was a parking space in a state fee area which cost a ten dollar bill to spend the night. This pleasure put us in the company of approximately twenty other campers, with families, sharing one roadside toilet and two trash cans. After two days all were full. Car camping with no shower facilities, no fresh water was really not on our agenda. Just brushing our teeth before crawling into our sleeping bags turned into a treat. But enough of the fun stuff.

Living in the Rockies has not taught us the necessary skills to dig clams. But what could there be to know? Just like digging taters, right? Anyway we attacked the beach dressed in our "frog suits" as your mother calls them. Chest waders. I had my very favorite irrigating shovel with the small head, (the shovel not mine). Your mom carried the five gallon bucket for the anticipated harvest of the forty-five clams limit each per day. We went out the hour before the peak "minus tide" and dug for clams until two hours after. Three hours of digging "show dimples". That's clam talk, for where the clams can be found sucking air.

I sure could lose a lot of weight if "clam digger" was my skill. We dug three clams on day one. I broke the two razor clams we got in the flurry of shovel digging, which makes for really sandy gritty eating. The sand seems to be finer than sea salt. The other clam we got was a butter clam, he isn't built like a razor clam, and your mom found him in the furious sand pile I had dug, thinking I was chasing a razor clam. After our first day’s efforts, we then had the dilemma of, how do we gut and clean these suckers? I did a butcher job on them and only saved the neck and the muscle thingies around the edge of the shell. No gut parts for us, by golly.

We decided that we may need to improve our odds digging clams the second day. A real clam digging shovel was on the list. On our way to Soldotna we stopped to watch a fellow cleaning clams for cash at Clam Beach. He turned out to be friendly and very informative. Showed us how to take care of the clams after the dig, presuming you have some to clean. He also gave us a few pointers on the digging part and how to capture the critters after you have the hole dug near them. Did you know if you pinch their necks really hard they kind of quit digging away from you? It gives you the opportunity to dredge them grudgingly out of their turf.

Day two we managed to get about twenty five of the razor clams and a couple more butter clams. I don't think anybody we saw was getting a full limit, so we felt we had improved dramatically. Are we now "Clam Diggers"? - Probably not yet, but we can dig enough for some deep fry clams and put some up for chowder. By the way, it is pretty trick on the ease of cleaning these clams. Plus I learned not to throw away the best part in the digger foot. Oh yeah, I bought the clam teacher a six-pack for his instruction on the way back from Soldotna.

We really did have a good time with each other. Wish we could share some of these experiences with you all in the real. Maybe in time, gotta make time. Was nice to get back home and get that shower. Will be heading back up the slope tomorrow to keep paying the piper.

Love you all,

Dad