“I wish I could go clamming with you two, but I’ve got early flights today,” said Mom. Sam’s mother was a bush pilot. She flew a small plane that carried people and supplies back and forth from Seldovia to the bigger towns across Kachemak Bay.
Outside the kitchen window, the sky was still dark. Sam could barely make out Neptune, waiting patiently on the porch. He washed down his oatmeal with a big glass of juice.
“I brought your new boots inside to warm up a bit,” said Dad. “You’ll want to throw on an extra pair of socks.”
Sam stared at the shiny black rubber knee boots. Ugh, he thought. Sam grabbed two thick pairs of socks out of the dryer and pulled them on his feet. He frowned as he slid his foot into one of the stiff boots. Even with two socks on, he could move his foot all around inside.
“Mom, these boots are so big,” Sam complained. “I wish I could have a pair of hip waders like Dad.”
“Sam, we went over this yesterday,” said Dad patiently. “Hip waders are too expensive for a kid who’s still growing. These knee boots are the smallest ones Mr. Murphy could find for you at the store.”
“As fast as you’re growing, those boots will be a perfect fit by next week!” teased Mom.
Sam smiled halfheartedly. He loved Seldovia, but sometimes not being able to drive to the big stores to buy exactly what you wanted was a real pain.
How in the world would he be able to walk through the gooey clam mud in these clown-sized boots?
Trip to the Clam Beach
Time to load up, Sam. Grab your stuff and let’s hit the road.”
Dad pulled his wool coat from a peg on the wall, as Sam yanked a warm sweater over his head and shrugged into his canvas jacket. He lumbered out the door in the big rubber boots. Sam and Dad loaded the pickup truck: buckets, a sturdy shovel, a short-toothed rake, and a digging spade for Sam.
“Okay, Neptune,” said Sam, “Up you go.”
Neptune leapt into the truck and Dad closed the tailgate. Mom juggled an armful of stuff and set aside her radio headset and big black flight logbook.
She handed them a thermos of coffee, one of cocoa, and a sack full of peanut butter cookies.
“Save these for later, when you’re done digging clams. The wind is supposed to blow hard this afternoon so I suspect we’ll quit flying early today. I should be home in time to help with lunch.”
“Thanks,” replied Dad as he kissed her and slid behind the wheel. “Be careful up there.”
The truck pulled out onto the dirt road. As soon as they were out of sight of their house, Sam and Dad looked at each other, grinned, and without a word, opened the sack of cookies.
Carefully, Sam unscrewed the thermos lids and poured steaming cups of coffee and cocoa. He knew to fill the cups only halfway. One of his first jobs on Dad’s fishing boat was to fetch coffee from the galley stove for Dad and the crew. If a wave hit the boat a certain way, a full cup of hot coffee could spill and cause the men to say words that Dad thought a boy Sam’s age shouldn’t hear.
The truck passed the Seldovia airstrip with its rows of bush planes. Sam could hear an engine warming for the day’s first flight across Kachemak Bay. Soon Mom would be there in her little blue-and-white Cessna, taking off from the dirt airstrip and soaring high over the sparkling water to Homer.
As Dad and Sam headed toward the clam beds at Jakolof Bay, the road dipped down into Dark Creek Canyon. The floor of the sunless canyon seemed like the bottom of the world. When the truck started up the other side of the canyon, the engine strained and sputtered. Dad had to set his coffee mug on the dashboard and downshift. The truck lurched and the empty buckets in the back fell over and rolled, crashing into the tailgate. Sam looked at Neptune. She stood nose into the wind, black ears flying. The noise didn’t bother her. In fact, she looked as though she might even be smiling.
The road wound back up along the cliffs high above Kachemak Bay. On the left, the land dropped away and Sam could see the ocean far below. Dad slowed down so Sam could look at his favorite eagle’s nest. Sam craned his neck to look for signs of life in the nest, but the eagles must have left already for a beach somewhere, feeding on an early spring run of salmon.
In the distance, a string of islands stood just offshore. Sam always recited their names for his father.
“Ready, Dad?” asked Sam.
“You bet, Sam. Go for it.”
Sam took a deep breath and called out, “Herring-Hesketh-Yukon-Cohen-Sixty-Foot Rock!”
“Right you are, Sam,” said Dad.
The road descended for several miles, and then, through the forest, Sam glimpsed the water of Jakolof Bay. The weathered boat dock came into view and Dad slowed down. A man working in a big wooden skiff straightened up and waved. It was Dad’s fisherman friend, Gil Chambers. Up popped another head, a smaller one.
Oh, no, thought Sam. It’s Melody Chambers, the know-it-all queen of Seldovia Elementary School. If Dad stopped to talk, Sam would be trapped! He’d have to be nice to Melody. YUCK!
Digging for Clams
Just as Sam had feared, his father brought the truck to a stop.
“Howdy, Wally. Taking the boy out clamming?” Gil called. Uh-oh, Melody was headed their way.
“Yep,” answered Dad.
“I don’t know why you even bother,” chirped Melody, leaning against the truck window. “Those clams in Jakolof Bay are so puny. The ones on MacDonald Spit are much bigger. That’s where I always go.”
What a pain! thought Sam. Melody believed she was smarter than everybody, and she was always full of advice. Sam couldn’t stand it.
“That’s what you think …” he started, but his Dad elbowed him. Hard. “Uh, thanks for the tip, Melody. We’ll have to try it there sometime,” Sam finished.
Sam was disgusted as they pulled away from the dock. He resolved to find the biggest clam ever. That would teach Melody.
Dad pulled off the road and carefully eased the truck onto a dirt track. The truck tilted crazily as the tires climbed over some huge spruce roots. Then, suddenly, the track spilled them out of the woods and onto the beach. Sam loved the crunching sound as the tires rolled over empty clam and mussel shells.
The tide was very low. The exposed beach stretched almost halfway across Jakolof Bay. Rising from the beach were three little humps, each supporting a few spruce trees. At high tide the water would surround the humps until they became islands, but for now they were completely dry.
Dad let down the tailgate and Neptune sailed out. She wagged her tail, barked, and danced in excited circles. Dad handed a bucket and spade to Sam, shouldered the rake and shovel, and started walking.
Sam’s new boots left huge prints in the sand. He put his bucket over his head, stretched his arms in front of him, and pretended he was a terrible, big-footed, bucket-headed monster.
Before long Dad and Neptune were far ahead. Sam tried to run to catch up, but in the big rubber boots his feet seemed to stumble over every single stone. Thankfully Dad stopped and Sam caught up.
“Well,