Fried prawns on Christmas Eve are a family tradition. And some years, when we’re lucky, there’s a clam dig. Then we have fried, fresh razor clams too.

There were two days of clam digging this year. The first you’ll see here where Bob, Keith, Cindie, and Zach easily dug their limit for a total of 60 clams. The second day, Ron, Beth, Justin, Conor, Edwin, Lori and Zach (again) did not catch their limit. After braving the elements and digging for hours, they came home with 3. Sometimes the clams are crafty and don’t spit their little air bubbles up through the sand.

If you want to dig for clams, come to the beach in your big rubber boots; you may have to dig in the surf. You’ll need your bare hands to operate the clam gun, so plan on icy fingers. Plunge the gun in the sand over the air dimple you’ve spotted and scoop out tube after tube of sand until you see a wriggling neck poking from an oblong shell, you’re trophy. Plop it in the bucket. Repeat until you reach your limit – in number or patience.

When you get home with your bucketful, it’s time to clean. As you slice and scrub while they wriggle, squirm, and shoot out strange organs, remind yourself of how great they’ll taste in their hot, crunchy coating.