One possible origin of our state’s name is a province in northern France. Most visitors are surprised to learn that there are parts of Maine today where the French language is a significant presence if not dominant, just an hour or two from SeaCat’s Rest. In Aroostook County, Maine’s biggest and furthest north, over 18% of the population speaks French at home. In York and Androscoggin Counties in southern Maine, the numbers are 6-12% and 12-18% respectively. How did this happen?

Flag of Acadia from wikipedia

One would expect that the nearness of francophone Quebec would account for some of our French speaking citizens, but that’s not the whole story. Actually, there are two French cultures in Canada and Maine, the Québecois and the Acadians. The Québecois hale from the more northern and urban parts of France and the Acadians probably came from more rural western France. Self-separating into Quebec and the now Canadian maritime territories (Acadia) respectively, they developed along slightly different lines, were isolated from each other and now speak somewhat different versions of their language. Over the centuries the Acadians have arrived at their own unique language, the latest version called Chiac, a hybrid blend of French syntax and grammar, ancient French words and modern English. Chiac is mostly spoken in eastern New Brunswick and is on a bit of a cultural upswing, with rap groups like Radio Radio and the animated Acadieman, all conversing in Chiac. As a non French speaker I can’t begin to differentiate between the version of  French spoken in northern Maine and Chiac, maybe someone can inform me. I do remember sitting in a restaurant listening to a French conversation peppered with English words; it was unique.

Acadian settlements today, from wikipedia

Historically, the Québecois were fairly secure in their province but the Acadians got pushed around, forced to mix with English and developed a fierce independent spirit. The Acadian Expulsion of 1755 by the British was a traumatic and seminal event and forced relocation of at least 10,000 from Nova Scotia to many parts of North America, including Louisiana and the Carolinas. Meanwhile their fertile farms were taken over by English speaking colonists and later, loyalists fleeing the War of Independence. By 1780 the Acadians were allowed to resettle their former areas, but the better lands were taken. It was around this time that many chose to settle in northern Maine, in the upper St. John river valley.

arrival of Acadians to Madawaska, Maine, from http://www.acadian-cajun.com

It was here in Aroostook County in the early 1800s that the Acadians dug in their heels. At that time Maine’s borders were in dispute between Britain and the new United States. The Acadians didn’t much care, they had settlements on both sides of the border. They had their own flag and considered the two powers to be unnecessary bothers. Among them were also Québecois.  Meanwhile, the French presence in southern Maine was still absent. That was to change in the 1860s when abundant waterpower developed the textile milling industry. Québecois came and filled those jobs in Lewiston, and Maine’s second largest city became very French.

Lewiston factories c. 1910, from wikipedia

Not so long ago francophone Mainers were looked down upon. Kids were forced to speak English in school and made to feel ashamed of their heritage. Now we have a governor whose first language was French. He’s not a great governor, but he’s broken one barrier. For a more thorough treatment of the subject, check out this UMaine website about Maine Acadians. Here’s a quote from there:

One Fort Kent woman in her early 30s echoes the sentiment of Valley residents who frequently report negative experiences associated with the prohibition on French in public schools. She refuses to teach her children her own native language because she was embarrassed about her speech in school; she wants to make certain her children do not develop a French accent.

A bit of Maine's complicated border. From campobello.com

Last night I found myself wondering whether in colonial America, the future provinces of Canada were just more British colonies. Was there any real difference between Nova Scotia (then including New Brunswick) and Massachusetts (then including Maine)? In 1700 did one side think of itself as part of a different nation or did the concept of Canada and the United States appear only after the Revolutionary War?

Ignoring for the time being the huge part played by France, by the 1770s all of the colonies were known as part of the  British Empire until the War of Independence. Thereafter the northern colonies were called British North America. Ontario and Quebec became the Provence of Canada in 1841 and the rest joined as the Dominion of Canada in 1867. So the answer is yes, the concept of Canada as a nation was a result of the independence of the 13 colonies to the south.

The northern colonies were where those loyal to the Crown fled during the revolution. I was surprised to learn that among my ancestors were loyalists.  My 6th great grandfather John James Glassford (1708 – 1792), a farmer in the Albany, NY area, because of his allegiances was chased out, had his home burned and lost 300 acres. He and his wife and family had to settle on the British side of Niagara and to petition the British government for restoration of his losses. Many present day Canadians can trace their ancestral roots to New York and New England.

Maine border claims, blue is the current border. From http://www.upperstjohn.com/history/northeastborder.htm

In the early days of our state we even had an almost-war with Canada over our northern boundary.  The Aroostook War started in 1838 because the Treaty of Paris, which ended hostilities after the War of Independence, was vague about the border. No shots were fired but both sides spent huge amounts on war preparations. Fort Knox near Bucksport on the way to Acadia from Boston is evidence. The Aroostook War deserves a post of its own, so in this context let’s just say it began a tradition of compromise and cooperation between Maine and her Canadian neighbors, Quebec and New Brunswick.

Maine’s border with Canada stretches 611 miles, third to Alaska’s 1538 miles and Michigan’s 1160 (but most of that is through the Great Lakes).  There are some odd border areas. For example, in order for Canadians to get to Campobello Island, they have to take a ferry from Deer Island, New Brunswick or more easily, drive across the border to Lubec, ME and cross on the short bridge. Two border crossings. Campobello Island is fittingly home to Roosevelt Campobello International Park, jointly administered by the Canadian and American park services.

The Aroostook Valley Country Club has nine holes on each side of the international border. During Prohibition, American golfers could amble over to the Canadian clubhouse and have a few drinks before heading back. Until the heightened security following 9/11 this was no big deal. Then the border patrol got into the act, informing golfers they were breaking the law if they crossed to the second nine holes without going through the nearest border crossing. See  U.S. swings at terrorists, hits golfers – Chicago Tribune. Things got even sillier when it was revealed that farmer Nick Pedersen couldn’t get to his New Brunswick farm without using a local US road, which he had been doing for 80 years, without Customs involvement. The complicated convolutions of his situation can be seen here.

From Google Maps

In Estcourt Station, Maine, (above) just at the very top of Maine and opposite Quebec, is an odd little outpost accessible only by Canadian roads. Besides a few farmed fields the only thing going on on the American side is a gas station, where Canadians can save a few dimes on a gallon of gas. The new security regime warns Canadians to check in at the border crossing before buying gas, which most ignore. Michel Jalbert ignored it and it cost him 5 months in jail and $5,000 in bills, fees and lost income while being held in a US jail. Admittedly, he had a shotgun and a criminal record, but it seemed to most a hefty price for saving a few bucks in gas.

from wikipedia. The sign warns customers to go to customs. The border is at the granite post.

Lost in all of this is the genuine affection between our two nations and the warm feelings between neighbors and relatives across the line. Atlantic Canada especially seems to identify itself with the States, it seemed like everyone I met in Nova Scotia, as well as local hero Alexander Graham Bell, spent considerable time in the US. Now it is necessary to have a passport or passport card to get across, although I got onto Campobello in 2009 without one. Somehow the border crossings make us seem like enemies, but I’m hopeful this is a passing phase.

http://www.eregulations.com/maine/hunting

The daily (except Sunday) banging of firearms coming from the woods, is over for another year.  True, Acadia National Park is always closed to hunting. In fact, some park roads are closed in firearms season to discourage poaching. For the rest of us, we can now venture outside without wearing orange. This hunting season in Maine, during which deer, bear, and moose  can be shot, ended Saturday, November 26. Duck season is still on though. Sea ducks can be hunted with guns until January 31, 2012 and regular ducks until December 24.  Sea duck hunting goes on right off our shore, and it’s a little nerve-wracking. Admittedly, the boats are about a mile away, due north of Mount Desert Island, but the sound carries well over the water. The urge to duck (pardon the pun) is hard to resist. I have to remind myself that steel bird shot (lead is prohibited) will probably travel no further than 800 feet, about 1/7 of a mile. Bad for the duck but harmless to us.

http://www.eregulations.com/maine/hunting

So how does Maine do, safety wise, in hosting the primal hunting ritual? Actually not bad. This year was worse than the past few, with one fatality and two gunshot injuries but compared to 1970, when there were 52 incidents in the Pine Tree State we’re looking pretty good. Consider we’ve lost 4 hunters from fatal gunshots from 2000-2010 while Pennsylvania has lost 29 and Arkansas 36. That’s actual numbers, but in per-hunter statistics we don’t do bad either, averaging 42 incidents per 100,000 hunters in the ten year period. That’s 4.2 per year. Compare that to New Hampshire’s 5.6 per 100,000 per year and Vermont’s 5.5.

How did we achieve this goal? Two laws. One is the mandatory wearing of a very specific color of orange on the body and head. Still, according to a post on thefirearmsforum.com:

Blaze orange will not protect you from being shot by a color-blind hunter, and there are a lot of us out there….The thing that others need to be aware of is that Blaze Orange is the same color as Grass Green to me – make all the arguments you want to on the basis of wavelengths and stuff, it’s perception that counts. And more specifically, it’s the perception of the color-blind guy with a .30-06 three hundred yards away that counts.

And the other law requires a mandatory hunter’s training course. The training course law had an immediate effect on fatalities when it went into effect in 1986. Another law, called the positive identification law, requires hunters to ID their targets before pulling the trigger. Sounds like a no-brainer, but I guess some people need to think about it.

The first full winter I spent in Maine there was a terrible fatality. A young mother of year-old twins stepped outside her house wearing white mittens. She was shot dead in her backyard. Some people actually criticized her for her choice of handwear, I was appalled. The hunter was initially charged with manslaughter but not indicted. He was a scout leader and well loved in the community. The surviving husband and twin girls moved away shortly after the grand jury decision. Fortunately, this was the worst incident of its kind as far as I know in recent memory, and I think of it every year around this time.

As the reader can probably infer, I’m not big on hunting. But hunting season does bring cash into Maine at a time of year when not many folks want to be here, and the vast majority of hunters are careful and respectful of private property, and human life.  Now deer season’s over and I can walk through the woods without fear, which I will do as soon as I’m finished typing this. I think I’ll still wear orange.

The morel, from wikipedia

This fall like most we attended the Common Ground Fair in Unity. While there, we listened to a talk by Greg Marley, our local (Rockland, ME) mycologist (mushroom expert), mycophile (mushroom lover) and mycophagist (mushroom eater). His talk was meant to put an end to mycophobia.

Marley sees the world as divided into the mycophobic (like here and England) and the mycophillic (just about everywhere else). He tells us our society has an irrational fear of fungus, but then points out how mushroom poisonings in the mycophillic world number into the hundreds per year. The one thing to remember, he says, is to focus on edible and medicinal species which are not at all similar to poisonous ones. This means avoiding LBMs (little brown mushrooms) which are notoriously difficult to key out. Also, keeping a checklist of the traits of the most toxic

The death cap from wikipedia

‘shrooms is a good practice. The most toxic genus (the last stop before individual species) is by far, Amanita. One typical cap of Amanita phalloides, the death cap, can kill 5 people and will do so slowly over a week or so. Saving the life of the victim often involves a liver transplant. Amanitas have a white spore print, white gills which are free from the stem, a ring around the stem (an annulus) and a swollen base (a volva), as if it came out of an egg. The death cap is rare in Maine but other Amanitas, including equally toxic ones, are plentiful.

Now, are we ready for the edibles? Feeling uncertain? Good! Identifying edible fungus is best first done with an old hand. Someone who not only knows how to identify them, but where they are likely to grow. When I was a kid that guy was Smitty, a retired mail carrier and big band musician who lived

Shaggy Mane, from Sisyphus. A little past its prime.

across the street. Every May he and his wife Louise would take me into the woods and we would look for morels. This was northern Michigan, where morel hunting is a favorite pastime. The big benefit of morels, besides their flavor, is the fact that they look like sponges on a stalk and so can’t be mistaken for anything poisonous (actually, there’s one, but it’s easy to tell apart and it’s not as deadly as a death cap).

When I moved to Maine I had to leave morels behind. They do grow here occasionally, but you can’t gather enough for a meal, just the odd one. So after years of feeling sorry for myself I ended up listening to Greg Marley and realizing all I had to do was to substitute local edible mushrooms for the ones I miss. Greg presented the “fool-proof four” mushrooms for Maine. They are the morel, puffball, hen-of-the-woods, and shaggy mane. But he said these four are from

Hen of the woods, from AMG

another mycologist and the morels here are scarce. He also pointed out that the puffballs, while an easy target, are not the most choice. He advocated three more which may be more appropriate for Maine, the chanterelle, the sulphur shelf and the king bolete. I am looking forward to finding all these gems. I already came across a nice stand of shaggy manes, and I had a great meal.

There’s much more to getting started in wild mushrooming that looking at a few pictures and

Sulphur shelf, from wikipedia

warming up the frying pan. An intermediate step is to start an excel spreadsheet of all the specimens you find. Each row corresponds to the found fungus with columns for date, location (GPS is good!), habitat, link to photo, spore color, best guess (genus, species, common name) and notes. This will get you practice in identification, a feel for the features of different families and genera, and will give you a chance for a return visit next year. You need an up-to-date field guide. Mine is old and fails to reflect all the name changes that have occurred in the last 30

Chanterelles, from wikipedia

years.

Mycology is very much an evolving field, with genetic data starting to turn the old classification system on its head. Two  on-line resources to use are mushroomexpert.com and Europe’s Roger’s Mushrooms. Don’t do a google search for a picture of a certain species without realizing you will get pictures of misidentified mushrooms–stick with the above sources or a good field guide. Stay in touch with other mushroom hunters like Ari Rockland-Miller and his blog themushroomforager.com to see what’s popping up in the area.

Greg Marley’s book, Chanterelle Dreams, Amanita Nightmares: The Love, Lore, and Mystique of Mushrooms is available in the usual places and is a great tour through the fungal world (did you know flying squirrels eat truffles?). Greg wrote in my copy, “Hope this gets you out into the mushrooms!” It did!

from wikipedia

Here it is November. The days are short, the visitors are gone and attention turns to the indoors. Good thing, since the woods are filled with orange men with guns. This part of Maine has more than a nose-to-the-grindstone aspect. We like to enjoy more than the normal dose of music and theater, probably due to our 150 year association with summer and retired people of the eastern seaboard.

This weekend, November 18-20, 2011 we have a choice of Elton John and Tim Rice’s Aida at Ellsworth High School,  Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats at MDI High School and Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest at The Grand. Those wishing to drive a little farther could take in Footloose at Bucksport High School,  The Phantom Tollbooth at the Deer Isle Stonington Elementary School  or The Nutcracker at UM Machias.

"Earnest" partial cast: Leslie Michaud as Gwendolyn, Veronica Young as Lady Bracknell, Greg Mihalik as Jack, Melissa Burkart as Cecily and Zachary Robbins as Algernon.

Oscar Wilde, from wikipedia

Since I am not generally a fan of musicals, my pick for the evening was  The Importance of Being Earnest. I recently watched the 1952 film version and enjoyed it. I’m not claiming I was able to keep track of every plot twist and turn, but I like watching a movie which does not rely on color, scenery and special effects to keep my attention. The play was called by Wilde “a trivial comedy for serious people” and was his last comedy before being jailed and then exiled for “gross indecency”– homosexuality. This production, by a collection of local talent, was a reading only, meaning the actors read their parts from scripts they were holding. But this didn’t diminishing the effect, since the costumes, accents and delivery were pro. Although only a one-night event, the play promises to return in the spring with a full-blown production.

Memorable as Lady Bracknell, the elderly guardian of Gwendolyn Fairfax and all that is proper, was Veronica Young:

To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune. To lose both looks like carelessness.

I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance. Ignorance is like a delicate, exotic fruit. Touch it, and the bloom is gone. The whole theory of modern education is radically unsound. Fortunately in England, at any rate, education produces no effect whatsoever. If it did it would prove a serious threat to the upper classes, and probably lead to acts of violence in Grosvenor Square.

The play is a farce about stuffy Victorian social conventions and how to employ clever avoidance strategies, and ultimately how those strategies backfire.  But you want the underdogs to win and in the end, they do; with witty dialog. The play was first performed in 1895. I can’t wait for the spring production.

Vinnie B., rollin' stone

From time to time we like to feature guest bloggers. This is Vinnie B. from Tankbottom, New Jersey. His opinions are his own.

I gotta tell ya, dis place is awful. First of all, dis Lamoine is on d’way to nowheres. It’s a dead end. Nothing out dere but ocean and….Canada. The nice reassurin’ buzz of traffic and honkin’ horns is missin’. It’s too quiet. All dere is is d’sound of wind through d’pine needles and sometimes a gull call or eagle yell. Somehow d’air’s not right neither. Dere ain’t no diesel smoke or fryer fumes like back home. And speaking of fryers, fuggetabout yer favorite fast food joints. Oh sure, dere’s a few in Ellsworth but don’t expect a Steak and Shake or El Pollo Loco, and dey just shut down the Friendly’s! Borin’! And  dey ain’t got none in Lamoine or Bar Harbor!

a whole lotta nuthin'

In fact, d’locals eat dese big red spiders dey get out of d’ocean. And the proprietor digs in d’smelly mud for some kind of  mushy thing dat lives in a shell, and den cooks it in a hole in d’ground! Weird! Who wants to eat things dat don’t come from d’store? Dis is dangerous. And don’t get d’local beer! Ya can’t drink more’n four or five before you pass out.

And speakin’ of stores, there’s only one big box in town, Walmart. Unless you count Home Depot. How we suppose ta get stuff if we have ta shop in stores we ain’t never heard of? Suppose dey got only big red spiders instead of what we want? We want fish sticks, we get spiders!

Kinda rough...

And some of d’houses are kinda rough lookin’. And don’t nobody weed dere lawns? Just when I think a place is abandoned someone walks out d’door wit dere head held high, like dey was proud or sumpin’.

Da best part of d’trip was going ta Bar Harbor. Da long wait for a table at d’restaurant was almost like home. Lots of traffic too. Ahhhh! But why don’t dey put cell towers on all dese mountains? I couldn’t text from some places while I was drivin’. Outrageous! And d’water at Sand Beach is freezin’! Give me d’Jersey shore any day.

People here are strange. Dey wait a minute before dey say sumpin’ and den talk real slow with a funny accent. Dey try to mess with yer head, den you realize later dey was bein’ clever. Sayin’ things like, “I had to slow down just so’s I could hurry up,” and “ya can’t get there from here”. I think I know why Stephen King is from here. Everybody’s got dat wild Maine woods look. It creeps me out.

Stay away! Vegas is better. Florida’s good, especially Gatorland. Do yerself a favor. Maine is no place for normal dudes like us. Nature should be controlled, boxed up, like at Gatorland. Not out where you can see it, seepin’ into the local oddballs. Dat’s it! Maine is for oddballs. KnowhatI’msayin’?

One of the sore points of our beautiful state of Maine has been the collapse of the ground fishing industry. This has been even worse in Newfoundland, where the human population had dropped from its peak in 1991 at 568,475 to 505,469 in 2006, a 9% drop. A neighbor recently bought a house in a fishing village there for $1. While the trend may be finally reversing due to new mines and oil exploration, here in Maine there’s new hope for groundfishing.

from the Portland Fish Exchange website, http://www.pfex.org

First, a definition. Groundfishing refers to fish with fins, not lobsters, shrimp or shellfish, caught in nets.  Here in the northeast these are mostly haddock, cod, hake and pollock. The resource collapsed due to overfishing. Blame for this situation varies depending on who you ask; fishers, the government, foreign factory ships, healthy eating trends or homeowners with leaky septic systems, take your pick. In a very long and detailed article in Maine Coastal News Jane Lubchenco (see below for her title, it’s a whopper)* writes that the new fish management scheme is resulting in a turn-around. Previously, implementation of the Magnuson-Stevens  Act (the federal law enacted to manage fish stocks) focused on limiting days at sea and landing limits. This was not embraced by the fishing industry, as it resulted in fishing during bad weather and dumping lots of by-catch. Now, the new way of rebuilding our fish stocks involves participation of the fishers themselves. In an earlier article, we explored how Maine’s lobster industry has successfully worked with science and government to maintain health, now it seems the government is more willing to trust the groundfishing industry to self-manage.

from the Portland Fish Exchange website, http://www.pfex.org

Instead of limiting days-at-sea, the new scheme is called “sector management”. The sectors are actually volunteer groups of fishers in given areas which are charged with meeting certain catch limits. How they do it is up to them. Like farming, each fisher is limited by his territory and responsible for its productivity.  The results are encouraging. Dr. Lubchenco writes,

We are finally on track to end overfishing. For the first time ever, we have catch limits and accountability measures in place and clear ability to track progress. In 2010 fishermen fished within the limits for 18 of the 20 stocks. This is excellent news.

Stocks are being rebuilt and therefore catch limits are up….in the 2011 fishing year catches have gone up for 12 of the 20 groundfish stocks…

Atlantic Cod from http://www.nero.noaa.gov

Dr. Lubchenco goes on to praise the new cooperative system for resulting in more selective fishing and “fishing smarter” to avoid the taking of bycatch of weaker stocks.

While early signs are encouraging she warns that there are many tweaks to the system which may be required. Better data collection, more nimble reaction to stock levels and more trust building between government, science and fishers will need to be done in the next few years. And even if stocks are on the upward trend, the cost per pound needs to provide a decent income, something that can’t be guaranteed by anyone.

The article I have presented is at best a brief summary of this complicated issue. I will continue to report on the groundfish situation, and I expect the news to be good in the next few years. Yet another reason to love the state of Maine. Get the full story in November’s issue of  Maine Coastal News.

*Jane Lubchenco, Ph.D., Undersecretary of Commerce for Oceans and Atmosphere and Administrator National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, U. S. Department of Commerce Before the Committee on Commerce, Science and Transportation, U. S. Senate, Boston, MA.

Latona was a goddess of Roman origin. Daughter of Caeus the Titan and Phoebe, or, according to Homer, of Saturn, and mother of Apollo and Diana. For our town, I assume one particular legend of Latona’s applies. She was banished to earth and earth people were forbidden from giving her comfort by the jealous goddess Juno. Latona and her two children asked the farmers around a lake if she and her children could drink from it. The farmers, fearing the wrath of Juno, denied her. After repeated entreaties she finally decided she had had enough, and turned them into frogs. Lamoine people, by naming our spring after the spurned goddess, are certain to provide her water, and therefore need not fear being changed into frogs.

Latona Spring is downhill from Blunt’s Pond, once used for a public water supply, and kept relatively pristine by laws against bathing, motorboats and swimming dogs. This water is filtered through the aquifer and emerges at Latona Spring, where it is captured in a brick enclosure. From here water emerges through a pipe where visitors or Roman goddesses can drink or capture as much as they wish.

Many locals use the water for drinking if their own well water is less than tasty. We have recently used it as we “break in” our new well. We know that the bottled water from the supermarket is no better than that from our Roman goddess. The spring has recently undergone renovations by the owners, Lamoine’s Whitcomb family. The roof has been temporarily moved and is in need of shingles. Plumbing has been replaced and the outlet pipe has been artfully enclosed in granite stonework. New gravel now improves parking.

Stone steps lead to easy access of cool, pure water

The entrance to Latona Spring is just opposite the sign for Latona Lane on State Route 184, Lamoine Beach Road, about 2 miles east of the school. If you visit, please remember this is private property shared with the public, and may not remain so if abused.

Out in front of SeaCat’s Rest are untold numbers of Mya Arenaria, the soft shell clam. This is the type of clam you will get most often when you order a clam dinner anywhere in New England. These clams settle in the intertidal mud vertically, with their “necks” (siphons) extended several inches towards the surface, where they filter seawater for food. When they sense danger, like a human stepping on the ground nearby, they quickly pull in their siphons and remain securely buried in six inches or so of the fragrant mud. As they pull in, they often squirt excess water, betraying their location. But even if they don’t squirt, they leave a little hole where you know where to dig. That’s where the work comes in.

The first step is to make sure you’re legal. In Lamoine, Maine, that means getting a license. It costs a whopping $6 for residents or $12 for non-residents for a recreational license. This allows you to dig one peck per day, 2-1/2 gallons or about 150 clams. Since I usually figure 20 clams per person, that’s enough for 7 people.  The next vital step is to make sure there are no closures. A clam flat closure can be due to either pollution or red tide, and is not to be ignored. The place to go is the Maine Shellfish Hotline, 1-800-232-4733

Next you need equipment. A bucket or “hod” (a slatted tray with a handle) to hold the clams, some rubber boots and a digging tool. Here, the clam flats are not pure mud, but a mixture of mud and rocks. This makes it hard to get to the clams without damaging them, and I’ve found the best tool is a straight four-tined spading fork. Mine is made by Ames and was found at Home Depot.  The tines are placed at least six inches from the holes and pushed down all the way. If rocks are in the way, try a different spot. When down all the way, gently lever the mud up. Often you will catch a glimpse of a clam’s neck squirting water. Grab onto the neck and hold firm as you continue to flip the mud. This is your first clam.

Reject any clams under 2″ across or with broken shells–you’ll never get the grit out, and you want live clams, not dead ones. Once you have made your first hole, now it’s time to hear the digger’s secret. Flipping back the mud might get you one clam, but there are more down there and the only way to get them is to thrust your hand down and feel for them! Go back and forth across the bottom of the hole and probe for the shape of a closed clam set vertically in the mud. Rock the clam back and forth to break the mud’s suction.  Don’t worry, they don’t bite. You will pull out rocks and more mud, but with a little luck, a few more clams. Don’t forget to go over the mud already pulled out with the first spading. Beware of broken glass! Commercial clammers in Lamoine have lubricated their activities with liquor for a century or more. Some pieces of glass are therefore quite old and may be worth saving.

As your clam bucket fills up you will eventually want to rinse them. Pour out your clams onto a bed of rockweed and clean out the mud in your bucket. Pour clean seawater over the clams and return them to the bucket with clean water. Now is the time to make sure there are no dead clams, closed but filled with mud. Your clams can stay like this for hours in the shade until you’re ready to cook them. If you use tap water be sure to thoroughly mix in 1/3 cup of salt per gallon. The clean water also allows them to expel any grit they may have inside. Some people like to pour in cornmeal to give the clams something to replace the grit with in their stomachs. Once your clams get their grit out you can store them dry in the fridge for up to two days, but using sooner is better. Do not seal live clams in plastic!

In an hour or two you will probably have enough for your meal. As the tide comes up you will find holes in higher ground, up to about 80% of the tidal range. Beware, it is hard to stop once you have tasted success. Just walk away! Rinse your digging fork with fresh water to keep it from rusting, and enjoy your clam dinner. You will have saved about $3.00 for each pound of clams you have dug (price as of 10/13/11) . A pound consists of 10 or so clams, so if you dug 100 clams you just made $30!

Another joyous Oktoberfest  Saturday has passed with the usual measure of fun and revelry. The 2011 Southwest Harbor Oktoberfest was not as crowded as previous years, probably because the weather was too nice to spend in a tent. This weekend has been almost other-worldly, with temps in the 70s and 80s, but who are we to complain? Someday we can figure out how the weather affects attendance at Oktoberfests, but for this time, it appears that a little cold and rain would have been beneficial for ticket sales.

Thanks to this fellow for letting me photograph him

For the attendees however, the extra space was welcome. It was possible to drift from brewery to brewery without feeling like you were in a NY subway. Unfortunately, my favorite brewery from 2010 was missing. Marshall Wharf of Belfast, where were you?? Rumor was they just didn’t get it together. I did see lots of new breweries however. A favorite was Maine Beer Company of Portland. Their humbly named “Lunch IPA” was phenomenal. Their website is http://www.mainebeercompany.com . My second taste was from the bottom of the bottle and full of yeast. These folks are bottle-conditioned believers. It’s impossible to dispense 4 or 5 samples from one bottle without getting yeast in, a minor gripe.

I have to confess, I am always in search of a very hoppy IPA, so other beer types: lagers, pale ales, wheat types (yucch!) and fruity concoctions (double yucch!) will disappoint me. So among these 21 breweries, only three met my interest. Besides Maine Beer Company I found good hoppy brews at (in alphabetical order) Baxter Brewing Company (stowaway IPA) and Black Bear Microbrew (Bad Omen IPA).  There were other decent IPAs out there, but these were the best.

from http://www.blackbearmicrobrew.com

I just heard from David from Marshall Wharf about why his brewery wasn’t able to make an appearance. Marshall Wharf has their own beer festival the weekend after our Oktoberfest, in Belfast, Maine, an hour or so away. He says,

I have created a bit of a monster in our own festival which is always the
weekend after the SW Oktoberfest.  This year we are pouring 34 different
Marshall Wharf beers, and expecting upwards of 600 people to descend on
us…….SO……we had to focus on this event.  I have been hammering my
brew crew pretty hard over the last few years.  BUT, that is not an excuse
and if we can figure it out well enough in advance next year you can bet
that we’ll be there with bells on and lots and lots of Marshall Wharf
beer.

Cheers!  and if your in the neighborhood on saturday stop by…..it’s
going to be crazy!

So that Belfast event is called the 4th Year of Beer and Pemaquid Mussel Fest and it’s happening at 2 Pinchy Lane, Belfast. Doors open at 5 PM on Saturday, October 15, 2011.