Voyages of the Vicky Mary. Page one.

[oneighty]

Meeting Vicky Mary.

It is three-o-clock on a cold January morning on the dock on Jeremy Creek in McClellanville, South Carolina. The wooden surfaces are slick, covered with frost. In the cold dark of the early morning we load several hundred burlap bags aboard the clam dredge.

This is my first experience working on a clam dredge. My wife's cousin CL is the Captain and that is how I got the job. A clam dredge job is a sure way to survive the stingy winters in the fishing business. Crewing on a clam dredge provides a good income. There is a good reason for that. Clam dredges are called "Widow Makers" I never knew a clam dredge to kill anybody, but at times a crew member will wish he were somewhere else. It is very hard miserable work.

CL starts up the 4/71 GM diesel engine which has a dry exhaust through a vertical pipe and muffler high above the deck. Sparks fly out of the exhaust and are dispersed by the boat's passage.
In the dark of night the sparks are bright flickering fireflies.

The journey north on the inland waterway to the mouth of the Santee River takes almost two hours. Arriving there CL starts the deck engine which drives the large water pump. High pressure jets of water burst forth from the clam digging head. The conveyor belt is engaged and lowered into the water until it rests on the river bottom. The topside of the conveyor pivots on a mast mounted on the stern of the boat. Almost immediately clams,oysters and mud come up carried on the conveyor belt. As the sun is rising we three crewmen bend over the conveyor grabbing clams with both hands and toss them backward between our spread legs. We will maintain this position until sunset, except for a lunch break.

The water and air are freezing cold and soon our hands are numb like stumps, devoid of feeling. It is hard to grab a clam. Our hands are covered with a light cotton glove under a dish washing glove. "This is misery."

Soon the sun comes up. Our world warms and conditions are improving. We stop for lunch. Lunch is whatever one brings from home.
We have plenty of hot coffee and whiskey if wanted. Some of the crew pass a joint around. Eating is a time waster, time on a clam dredge is money. Back to work.

As the sun sets the conveyor is raised and chained into position. The journey home is not easy. The clams must be counted into the burlap sacks, 250 clams per sack. We have a mountain of clams and we count and bag all the way back to the dock where we arrive about ten in the evening. 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 do not much like her. I did not know then that one day she would be mine.

From 'Voyages of the Vicky Mary'. Registered Library of Congress

[flowomo]

1. Clam boats ARE dangerous....

I just finished reading "The Sea's Bitter Harvest" by Douglas Campbell. It chronicles the deaths of 10 clammers on 4 boats killed in just 13 days in 1999 off the eastern seaboard. "Widow makers" indeed.

[oneighty]

2. Yes. You are right about that!

Those are the large open ocean dredges. Vicky Mary was (Hugo destroyed her) a thirty three foot hydraulic dredge for clam dredging limited to shallow calm waters. She was a Harkers Is. built boat pretty as a swan without the dredge gear.

I shrimped with her in season.

Poor Vicky. Sigh.

180