So it was not my best day digging razor clams. First I got hit by a sneaker wave when I was reaching down into a hole --smacked me upside the head and sent a jolt of icy brine down inside my chest waders. Then I pulled a muscle in my lower back while digging. Walking back to the rig with only six clams in my bag (the daily limit is fifteen), Larry the Fish and Wildlife Enforcement Tool pulls up in his pickup.
"How's it goin'," he asks.
"Oh, pretty good. I pulled a muscle and had to quit digging." I show him my bag. "I only got a half dozen clams."
"Tell you what I'll do," he says. Hopping out of his truck, he walks to the back and pulls out three clams and drops them in my bag.
"These are clams I took from some folks who were one over their limit.."
How nice is that?! Made my day. Here's to Larry .