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It is three AM, a cold January morning on the dock on Jeremy Creek in McCllellanville, South Carolina. The wooden dock surfaces are slick, covered with frost. We load burlap bags aboard the clam dredge,"Vicky Mary". This is my first experience working on a clam dredge. My wife's cousin is the Captain which is how I came to land this much sought after job. The job is a sure way to make good money and survive the lean winter months in the seafood business. The dredges are called "Widow Makers" because operating and maintaining them is a twenty four hour a day job.
Cousin CL fires up the 4/71 Detroit diesel. It has a dry exhaust through a verticle mounted muffler. Sparks ofetn fly from the exhaust to drift backwards dispursed by the boat's passing. In the dark the sparks are bright, flickering like fire flies. The journey north to the clamming grounds in the Santee river delta takes almost two hours.
At the grounds CL starts the Chrysler gasoline engine which drives the large six inch water pump. High pressure jets of water burst forth from the clam digging head. The conveyor is lowered into the water until the digging head is resting on the bottom.The rear of the conveyor pivits from a mast on the boat's stern. The conveyor belt is engaged, and the boat driven slowly forward. Immediatley mud, clams, oysters are carried up by the conveyor belt. We three crew-men bend over the conveyor grabbing clams with both hands and throwing them backwards between our legs. We will maintain this position for the better part of the day, sunrise to sunset.
The water and air are freezing cold, soon our hands are knumb icy stumps devoid of feeling. It is hard to grab a clam. Our hands are covered with light cotton gloves in turn covered by dish washing gloves. This work is misery I think. Soon the sun is high, our world warms up, things are improving. We stop briefly for lunch. Lunch being whatever is brought from home. We have plenty of hot coffee, whiskey if wanted. Some of the crew suck up a bit of pot. Eating is a time waster, time on a clam dredge is money. Back to work.
As the sun sets the conveyor is raised, chained into position. The journey home is not easy. The clams must be counted and bagged, 250 clams per bag, plus 10 for breakage. We have a mountain of clams to count and bag. We count all the way back to the dock where we arrive about ten PM. There we lift the bagged clams up onto the dock. It is hard work. We have one hundred fifty bags of clams to off load.
Miss Vicky Mary is a hard task master. I did not care much for her. That was to change. At the end of the season I bought Miss "Vicky Mary" and our Voyages started, Vicky and me.
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