Clamming with Bill Coleman

By Kay Goldstein - July 19, 2007

It is dawn. Low tide. Heading out alone in his red pickup loaded with clam rakes, bucket, and a shellfish gauge, Bill Coleman, in his weathered baseball cap, juggles coffee in one hand and with the other, steers to the pond where his 14-foot Whaler awaits. Once settled in the boat, gear in place, he steers it past the reedy shores, docks, and boat moorings, chugging along slowly. Its small motor is designed to minimize noise and pollution. He finds his spot in ankle deep water, surrounded by clumps of black mussel shells rising like sentinels above the surface of the pond. And his labor of love begins.

Coleman is by profession a professor of pediatrics at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. But like so many who have found their way to this Island and been captivated, he returns every summer to immerse himself in a different pursuit, one that is spent in the interior landscape of nature. He refers to the time he spends as a clam-digger as, "my great privilege and greatest joy.”

Coleman’s enthusiasm for the pastime becomes apparent as with concentration, he repetitively rakes in slow even strokes. In addition to the physical aspect, the pursuit becomes almost meditative, one that he seems engaged with in wordless conversation among water, wind, and the gulls that hover above him.

He tosses clam after clam into the bucket tied to his waist, moving instinctively from spot to spot, methodically raking to find what is his treasure, Rooted in the mud flats of the pond, he becomes a sensor, able to sort the sensations of clunk, scratch and scrape that tell him when he has found his prey.

He says the solitary times he spends raking the sandy bottoms of Vineyard ponds have made him more sensitive to the environment, more conscious of the interplay of sun, tide, and Island’s aquaculture, and helped him understand the importance of protecting the environment. He displays his shellfish license proudly. (Shellfishing requires a license or permit from town hall).

Time passes, the bucket fills, and the morning’s slow waltz reaches an end. Coleman hauls the heavy bucket of clams to the boat, and heads home with thoughts of clams on the half shell, pasta with clam sauce, and bowls of steaming chowder. The circle of gratitude will be completed as he shares his bounty with friends, neighbors and family.

Freelance writer Kay Goldstein is a cookbook author, and poet, who lives in Chilmark and North Carolina.