05/24/2011

I was reading this post by a blogger I follow, and it reminded me so strongly of the clam digging I used to do back in Washington State that I thought I'd make a post on the subject.

First of all, this...

...is not something real clam diggers use. If anyone ever tells me they have gone clam digging and then I get a picture like this one, I will make quite a point out of ensuring that they be subjected to endless mockery on the matter.

Ok so, first, the essential tools of a clam digger:

Shovel:

Most important tool. The longer and thinner the "blade" the better. Preferably should have a half-length handle like this one, but a full handle can be dealt with or sawed off. Most experienced clam diggers will actually sharpen the tip of the blade with a grind wheel till it is as nearly razor-sharp as possible as this speeds its penetration of the sand, a point the importance of which will be understood later. The blade can also be "oiled" with shortening or grease, and should definitely be rust-free to prevent drag.

Net:

These devices are often home-made and consist of a mesh net attached to a hard rubber or metal hoop. The net must be long and thin as in this picture. The device is attached to one's person by three short ropes which keep the opening facing front at all times.

Two-Mantle Gas Lantern:

This is the best method of lighting the area one will dig in as nothing really gets brighter and as easily portable as one of these. Clam diggers will often find a good "spot" with lots of clam holes and set the lantern in the center, digging around it then moving on.

Wheelbarrow:

Believe it or not a commercial clam digger can dig well over 200 lb of clams in the space of a couple hours. Some even bring two wheelbarrows and two assistants to move them and the lantern, just so they can contantly dig.

So this is what a clam field looks like in daylight:

Usually diggers will start digging well before daylight however, as early as 3-4am. Hence the lanterns.

This is a razor clam, the type I am most experienced at digging:


The basic strategy of "real" clam digging is to pull the clam out of the sand by grasping its extended neck, before it can swell its foot, providing it with numerous pounds of downward force that can make it difficult or impossible to extract, and retract its neck. As a clam can anchor itself in about a second, the entire duration of extracting the clam must last only a fraction of a second. To accomplish this, the blade of the shovel is set about two inches to the side of the clam hole, toward the ocean, and facing inward toward the shore. The shovel is grasped underhand by the handle with the right hand and the left hand is placed on the top of the blade. It is rapidly thrust downward at an angle that brings the tip vertically parralel to the clam hole at about five to seven inches depth, and then rapidly removed vertically to form a sharp V-shaped space. The neck of the clam should be exposed parallel to the vertical side of this space. Halfway through removal of this chunk of sand, the left hand releases from the blade and shoots down into the space, grasping the neck of the clam with the fingertips and pulling it entirely out just as the tip of the shovel blade reaches the surface. This process takes about .8 seconds. The clam is then thrown backward into the net and the digger moves on to the next clam hole. Usually if the neck breaks that means it was cut by the shovel and the digger should adjust the angle or depth of their initial thrust.

05/18/2011

I am so profoundly bored today. Grrr.

05/10/2011

An Ode to Fire

There was a day remembered as in a distant dream
When innocence o'ercame me and I danced with merry step
Down stairs doused in morning rain, kicking puddles in abandon.
But then she happened across my path, such circumstance
Impossible to have foreseen, and I, reacting too late
Caught but a glance, a glare, a scorning and unwavering rebuke.

Long did I persist in studying this regrettable event--
Perhaps it was her eyes, so crystal blue, as a glacier
Set upon its course; perhaps, my own instinctive shame
At injustice done upon her Sunday attire--whatever the cause,
My unease would not rest, I did, I must have an answer
To tell the world that I indeed was innocent of this unspeakable crime.

For now in mind I had crafted that which only mind could craft,
Something unnatural as fire: "Intention is the sole criterion
Of moral responsibility." This blade, this killing instrument I threw
In battle against the ogre Guilt, until at last its blood
Burned crisp within its veins. Perceiving my victory so I relished:
"Causality is but an argument of beasts; here is the domain of man."

A day ago I worked all night, and coming home discovered that my friend
Had fallen ill, and so I elected to watch our child through the day.
I sat her on my lap and sang to her; I held her hands with fingers as she walked.
I laid her down to sleep. I went out to the porch and had a cigarette.
I put it out and tossed it in our urn, unlike my friend who never bothers,
And went inside to see a film and rest at last.

But then a half hour later at the least, an explosion rocked the room,
A fire quickly spreading, grown vast unnoticed, from my inadvertent failure--
I suppose it was not out entirely. What a shame. What a small flame.






Read for context.

05/07/2011

"[E]very failure to cope with a life situation must be laid, in the end, to a restriction of consciousness." -Joseph Campbell, The Hero With a Thousand Faces

I have an acquantence who was recently in a relationship with my girlfriend's younger sister. This guy is about six years older than I. I have to say it is rather pathetic to watch his woebegone and helpless whining, like a child screaming for its mother's breast, all over something he has mistakenly chosen to call love but which is really just a desire to be cared for, to thus escape adult responsibilities, to thus remain immature and cling by means of repression to that blissful innocence that cannot be admitted to persist beyond its own natural time.

05/02/2011

Hang in there kiddo
Life's not all that bad
We darken for a moment sure
But glisten in our prime
We walk down roads uncharted
Expanding into time
Till all our hopes have been fulfilled
In strange ways undefined

You pass me by in sorrow
Convinced that all is lost
But all the while smiling
Confessing happiness
But now the mask can fall away
Together we digress
Into the truth unacknowledged
Into the wilderness