Hard to believe, but Saturday was the last evening razor-clam opener of the season, and we didn’t want to miss it. Skyla was literally bouncing off the walls, stoked to dig, and then realized she had already committed to a dinner with friends that night. I was bummed she couldn’t go with us, but was also proud that she stuck to her word. Then Weston woke up not feeling well. And I was left to go it alone, perhaps an early preview of kids growing up and having lives of their own? With a twinge of sadness, I decided to roll anyway, and lucky for me, had plenty of friends to join the fun. That’s Honey, David and Sam Smart, and Doc hitting the beach early.
The dig started off slow, with a big swell pushing the wash up the beach and making it tough. We scratched out a few nice ones ahead of the tide, then, as it the water receded, it was on.
Nothing like good friends on a day at the beach. That’s Dan and Mia Sweeney and me for a quick, sandy-handed selfie. Dry weather, full daylight, no lanterns…what’s not to like?
Once the razors started to show, we filled our limits with big, fat, tasty clams in minutes. That’s Sweeney double checking the Smart boys’ count.
Finished the night at the Sweeneys for a team clam-cleaning session and more good times hanging out with friends. That’s Sweeney and Smarty (with Hefty-sack wrapped wrist he broke to avoid having to clean clams) waiting for the watched pot to boil. I missed the kids, but ended up having a fantastic time anyway. Love this crew.
Last week, as my good friend Sweeney and I were thinking about what to do on his birthday, the State announced a razor clam opener. Perfect timing. Our usual autumn/winter season has been on hold due to lingering domoic acid in the clams–a result of warm-water algae blooms. There actually was an opener on the last set of minus tides, but they fell on Christmas Eve and Christmas and we both had our hands full with family activities.
So this was our first real shot at razors since last spring. And I don’t know if it could have been any more spectacular. When we left Sweeney’s house, it was 36 degrees and socked in with fog. Thirty miles west and it was bluebird skies, no wind and 55 degrees. That’s Sweeney and our buddy Ron searching for razor necks in the wash, above.
Only problem with the whole day was that the clams were so abundant, and showing so well, we limited out in about 20 minutes. But that worked, too: we made it home in time to clean clams, eat dinner with the family, and hang out with a whole string of well-wishers coming by to raise a glass to Sweeney. Awesome day.