Sometimes I trick myself into thinking gathering protein is going to be a snap. I love digging for razor clams because once you know what to look for, you can dig up your allotted 15 in under 20 minutes and be on your way. Last Friday I thought I could repeat the performance and make it home from the coast in time for a dinner with friends back in Seattle who had never tried razors.
I convinced Sensei to join me a couple hours before the low tide had hit but the water never really receded like we had hoped. The clams were right there but still under water for all but the slimmest of windows between waves. As Exhibit 1 that Sensei knows what he is doing and I do not, note that he wore waders along with all the other locals.
I wore rubber boots and would attempt dignified retreats when the waves washed back in. It was a futile game and eventually I noticed the water was one inch below the top of my boots. I switched tactics and would lift my knees periodically to let the excess water roll out in case I really needed to run for it. There was at least an hour and a half of futility with no sign of clams before the tide receded just enough that we could wait out the high waves and scramble for a clam or two. But mostly we all just stood knee deep in the water and looked at each other...
Finally as the moon came up Sensei got his limit and I had to give up with only 12. Its hard to tell in the picture but razors are pretty big. A decent sized clam is 5-6" tall and maybe an inch thick. The clams finally make it to Seattle for the dessert course at 9pm but they tasted great battered in Ritz and fried in butter.
