Back at the clam beds

I promise these will be the only pictures on the blog this summer of hardshell clams and people digging for them. Not much changes in clamming - a sharp rake, a stony bottom, trying to read the signals coming through the rake handle as it scrapes across the bottom, knowing when it's likely there's a clam in the rake, and in the end a full half-peck of clams (locally called quahaugs). Then the paddle back to the truck and a cup of coffee afterward.
This was the first time the usual clamming crew headed out this year. At least, the first time to get clams for ourselves. We went a couple of weeks ago, but that was to get clams to send back to North Carolina with Mike and Tammy Race's daughter Shaina.
This time we all brought clams home. Mike and Tammy, Bourne neighbor Josh Albright and myself. You go clamming when the tide is low. Tide waits for no clammer, as anyone who lives near the ocean understands. So we were out there near Buzzards Bay a bit after 11, digging not long after that. And we returned about an hour later, with two half-peck baskets, one limit for Mike and Tammy, one for Josh. I was just hired help, since my shellfish permit is issued in Falmouth and is not good in Bourne.
It was cloudy and a bit blustery, but lovely out on the beach of the small island where we pulled up our boats. It's hard work, this business of yanking clams from the mud, but it's good for conversation or, if you choose a spot far from the others, silence.

Photos: The arrival at the clam beds, Tammy eager to go over the side and get to work; Mike digging; Josh checking his rake; Tammy sorting; the clams.