Yesterday was my 1 year anniversary of leaving GE. It’s been a different 12 months than I expected. More time on land than I hoped, but more time with our families. I don’t regret anything.
I recently finished a book about the source of our food called ‘Closer to the Ground’. The author lives in the Puget Sound area and describes a life based on the natural food available. From gardening to hunting, it was a detailed manual for finding food in western Washington.
We fished constantly last summer with limited success. We crabbed occasionally with zero success, we collected blackberries and apples a lot but we only tried once for shellfish. The night we collected oysters was one of the most memorable nights on Scooter. Grilled oysters in garlic-butter and hot sauce remain my top meal on the boat.
This year my goal is to do a better job of collecting food. We had friends up for the weekend with the intent of fishing, sailing, and enjoying the boat life but at the last minute, (from an uber driver’s inspiration) we decided to plan the trip around the low tide and the legal shellfish areas.
We found a rocky beach at low tide and beached the dinghy. Then we found an old man gardening and asked for permission. He was friendly and approved as long as we re-filled the holes. He also added that he hadn’t really looked for clams in the last 20 years, but figured they might still be there. Clams were not very abundant. Passing kayakers suggested digging to 18 inches which is fairly difficult in wet rocky sand, by hand. After 2 long hours of digging, we had a small prize.
Due to our small haul, I cooked the planned land-lubber dinner of pork tenderloin, couscous, and a home-dressed Ceasar salad. After dinner and merriment, Taylor and Alex set to preparing the clams while I prepared the crab pot.
These small varnish clams were fantastic. Purged, blanched, cleaned, and sauteed in white wine & garlic, I’m confident no one on the Puget sound had a better midnight snack than us.
The next day the crab pot was hauled (empty as always), and the dinghy was launched toward Blake Island. Between a failing battery system on Scooter, and an overloaded Scootie (our dinghy) no one brought a phone so the clamming went un-documented. We met a family with two little kids clamming away and got some advice. This felt like a good omen because the author mentioned above wrote about the joys of clamming with his kids and showing them where their food comes from at a very early age.
We set to digging and started the easter-egg-hunt. It was glorious. A clam every 30 seconds. Mostly Butter clams which were unharvestable due to levels of toxins, but every now and then a ‘steamer’; a Manila clam. We filled our bucket and set off to hike some of the island. We didn’t make it far because, in the first 20 yards, Taylor spotted a disturbance in the sand. A little spout of water. I started digging and felt something soft. I kept digging and felt the soft ‘thing’ running away from me, deeper into the sand. I was too intrigued to give up. So clawing at the sand and rock with rubbed raw fingertips I finally pried the animal from the beach. A Horse clam!!!
Horse clams look a lot like a geoduck and are a ‘gaper’ in that they can’t fit all their clammy bits inside the shell. Our clamming energy had returned. The next 2 horse clams were every bit as difficult to extract but we finally prevailed.
A few hours later, we were back in port and ready to prep.
The horse clam siphon is a delicacy, but it looks… less so. For our first foray into this much sought after phallic sea creature, we opted to batter and fry.
The fried clams were great, as can be expected for fried foods, but we’re looking forward to more experimentation with our next haul.
As for the rest of the clams, when our friends set off for home, we set about preparing a clam chowder.
The first order of business this week: buy a shovel and hand rakes.