Surf delicacies

By DAVE SHERWOOD

Copyright © 2005 Blethen Maine Newspapers Inc.

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	Staff photo by DAVE SHERWOOD enlarge Hen clams are Maine's largest clams, though probably the least well known. They can measure up to 10 inches and weigh a pound or more. They're typically found in shallow waters along sandy beaches, making them easily accessible to recreational clammers.

PINE POINT, SCARBOROUGH -- At around 4 p.m. on Tuesday, Tony Potenzo waded into the surf at Old Orchard Beach.

Waves crashed around him, sea gulls squawked and the wet sand of low tide glistened in the late-afternoon sun.

It seemed like a winter day dream, but this was Maine, not Florida.

Chunks of sea ice lay strewn on the beach like pieces of driftwood. Summer cottages were boarded up and abandoned. Two feet of snow had drifted on the sand dunes.

But Potenzo hadn't come to go swimming --he was here for the clams.

"There's one!" he yelled, rearing back with a groan as he pried the clam from the muck.

Beach sand dribbled in clumps from his fork, and a wave crashed down behind him, spraying his jacket with salt water. He picked up the huge clam and admired it.

It fit nicely in his hand, like a baseball in a mitt.

"That's a good one," he said.

The hen clam is one of Maine's best-kept secrets. It's hard to believe because they're so large -- the softball size mollusks can weigh more than a pound and measure up to 10 inches in length.

Two or three make a chowder; a dozen will feed a family.

On beaches like Old Orchard, no license is required. Anyone -- and everyone -- is free to partake.

According to Heidi Bray of the Department of Marine Resources, Maine has four primary species of edible clams: hen clams, northern quahogs, ocean quahogs or mahogany clams, and soft-shell clams.

The largest of the group -- the hen, or surf clams -- are found along sandy beaches and bottoms from Cape Lookout, North Carolina to Labrador, and offshore at Georges Bank.

Like all clams, they're filter feeders. They bury themselves just deep enough in the sand so that only the open end of their siphons are exposed to the water. The longer the siphon, the deeper they go.

In Maine, soft-shell clams have the longest siphons, followed by hen clams, then quahogs, which sometimes sit atop the sand.

Hen clams are most common in New Jersey and Virginia, where commercial draggers (fishing boats) harvest them by the hundreds of thousands, said John Hurst, a scientist and former director of the Department's red tide program.

A MAINE TRADITION

Recreational hen clamming is part of a seasonal tradition of harvesting in Maine -- like picking fiddleheads or dipping smelt.

A good winter low tide brings out clammers like opening day draws fishermen.

On Tuesday, the tide was minus 1.5 feet --low enough to allow clammers access to sand flats that are normally submerged in deeper water.

The lowest tides of the year occur around the new, and full moons, when the moon and the sun are in alignment with the earth, and their gravitational attractions are combined.

Up and down the beach, more than 30 clammers had gathered to partake in this wintertime ritual.

The technique is simple. Clammers poke and prod the sand at low tide with garden pitchforks. When they feel the tell-tale "thunk" of a clam, they reposition their forks for the best angle of attack, dig down beneath them, then pry upwards, usually soaking an arm in the process.

Those with a keen eye for incoming waves and a strong back stay dry. Everyone else gets soaked.

"I've shown a lot of guys how to do it, but when they come out, they have a hard time. They see me getting clams and wonder what's going on. It takes time to learn. The trick is a fork with fat tines and treating the sand like a grid," said Potenzo, as he pryed a hefty, 8-inch clam to the surface.

Potenzo said he learned about the clams from a friend, who learned from an old Frenchman in Biddeford many years ago.

Others, like Monty Monta–ez, of Windham, strap spiked shoes to the bottom of their boots. They feel out the clams with their feet, then poke with pitchforks, increasing their efficiency.

Monta–ez hails from Puerto Rico, where there are no hen clams. He learned from a fellow employee at the paper mill in Westbrook.

"I love to be out here in the winter, and really, I love to cook the clams," he said.

TASTYMORSELS

Nearly all Mainers have eaten a hen clam at some point in their life. Most just don't know it.

"Most canned clam chowders that you buy in the grocery store, like Campbells, are made from hen clams," Hurst said.

Hen clams are also commonly sold as "clam strips" or fried clams at restaurants.

According to a study by the National Marine Fisheries Service, nearly 75 percent of commercially harvested clams in the U.S. are surf clams.

The reason is simple: they're affordable.

Hurst said that a typical bushel of hen clams might sell for $10 to $15, where the same amount of quahogs might sell for upwards of $100.

"They're cheap and they make excellent chowder," he said.

Getting a clam from the beach to a rich, succulent chowder isn't easy, say clammers.

The real work often starts at home, when clams are opened, cleaned and then diced into small pieces for use in clam cakes, fritters, and soups.

"Most people could probably buy hen clams cheaper at the grocery store than they can going out and harvesting them themselves," Hurst conceded.

But he adds, "Then they wouldn't have the fun of getting out on the beach and finding them."

CONCERNSABOUT CLAMS

In Maine, Hurst says, a small group of commercial draggers fish the waters off of Small Point and Scarborough, though their impact is unknown.

Currently, the fishery is primarily a recreational one, though clammers like Potenzo fear the draggers could be depleting the resource.

"The clams are definitely getting smaller, and there just aren't as many. It's getting to be too much like work, the price per pound keeps going up," he said, only half joking.

These concerns have alarmed the Coastal Conservation Association of Maine.

"No one has the slightest idea of how many surf clams we have in Maine, or how many we can harvest sustainably. We just don't know anything about them," said Dick Anderson, a long-time clammer and board member with the association.

The group has proposed legislation to preserve the recreational clamming tradition, says Anderson. They seek to keep commercial draggers from within 500 yards of the beachfront in Scarborough, Saco and Biddeford.

Draggers have the entire ocean at their disposal, says Anderson, where recreational clammers are limited to just a short stretch of sand and surf. He wants to know more about the sustainability of the harvest before it's too late.

Overall, the demands on hen clam resources are small in comparison to the more popular, and more valuable species, like steamers or ocean quahogs, so Marine Resources spends little time managing them.

"The information we have is sketchy, and incomplete. We don't know how many commercial draggers there are, because all they need is a commercial license to do it. We don't know who's out after clams and who's fishing for something else," said Heidi Bray, who tracks commercial landings for the Department.

On Tuesday, there were no draggers offshore -- just a lone lobsterboat making it's way to harbor at sunset.

By 6 p.m., the excitement on the beach was over. The tide began to flood. The sun had long since set. A pair of clammers remained in the surf, using headlamps in the last minutes before dark. In the distance, the purple and yellow glow of the Portland skyline lit the horizon.

"I know when to call it quits," said Potenzo, who'd filled his bag with nearly 25 clams.

It was time to head home and celebrate --with clam cakes and chowder.

Dave Sherwood -- 621-5648

dsherwood@centralmaine.com