FEW CLAMS ARE coveted quite like the geoduck.
They’re large, they’re elusive and — more so than any other North Olympic Peninsula shellfish — they’re a visual freak show.
Oddly enough, they may also be the inspiration for the area’s next reality television bonanza.
Less than 24 hours after I mentioned geoducks in a column last week, Pie Town Productions Director of Development Susan Gibson sent an email my way.
What first appeared to be spam — the subject title, “Pie Town Productions,” hardly screamed legitimacy — instead was a casting call of sorts for a possible reality series centered around the world of geoducking.
“I saw your article and was wondering if you might have any ideas for me about possible talent — like some [big] characters who go geoducking?” Gibson wrote me. “I would appreciate any help!”
Naturally, I couldn’t help but fire a phone call her way, if only to see if this was actually authentic.
Much to my surprise, it was.
There was no woman with a thick Russian accent on the other end of the line or automated voice directing me to pass along my credit card information; just a receptionist who immediately patched me through to Gibson.
As it turns out, the same people who brought the world such meaningful programming as “House Hunters,” “Downsized” and “House Hunters on Vacation” now have their eye on the geoduck.
And predictably, the clam’s unforgettably phallic features are a big part of what made it most appealing to the Pie Town people.
Said Gibson, “That’s what we like about it!”
Unfortunately, I couldn’t help Gibson in her quest for geoduck glory.
My Rolodex is bereft of “big characters” who spend their days diving or digging for geoducks.
That being said, there one possibility floated through in the back of my mind.
What if I could be “The Geoduck Whisperer?”
I certainly share many similarities to those who have shined under the reality television spotlight.
Like Ozzy Osborn, I’m occasionally slow-witted. (OK, “often” slow-witted.)
Like the chef from “Hell’s Kitchen,” I’m prone to disproportionate outbursts of rage.
And like Donald Trump, my attempts at hiding my male pattern baldness are often comically unsuccessful.
Still, there was one piece of the puzzle holding me back: Not once have I dug up a geoduck.
As Gibson made clear during our conversation last Friday, the real star of the show was going to be the clams’ disquieting countenance.
If I couldn’t make with some shellfish fondling on cue, the show would be over before it began.
Not exactly an easy task when it comes to geoducks.
The geoduck is perhaps the most difficult of all shellfish digs.
It’s not that they move quickly through the surf like their coastal counterparts, the razor clams.
Rather, it’s that geoducks are typically so deeply imbedded in the beach that harvesters must dig three to four feet below the surface just to get their hands on its shell.
PDN Publisher John Brewer once told me that you can always spot a geoduck digger because “they’re the ones in the background who are always digging.”
Once one actually gets to the shell, it takes all sorts of pulling and jostling just to jar it loose.
After all, these are extremely large shellfish we’re talking about.
On average, they weigh between 2-3 pounds in Puget Sound, and the added size translates into added strength.
That’s why many geoduckers end their day with their faces in the mud, their arms completely extended into a three-foot hole as they desperately try to pry the clam free from its encampment.
Further complicating matters, geoducks are only exposed to digging on extreme low tides (often minus-2.0 feet and below).
Thus, diggers only get a small handful of opportunities each year to shag the shellfish.
Luckily for me, one of those chances came this week.
A series of morning low tides below minus-2.5 feet were set to hit Oak Harbor County Park — known geoduck territory — between Tuesday and today.
I chose Wednesday’s tide because it was the lowest at minus-2.9 feet.
That it was also the second warm, sunny day we’ve had this year was a bonus.
Much like anything outdoors, everyone has their own way of digging up geoducks.
While some diggers prefer to use a posthole digger, others go with a conventional shovel.
One thing almost all diggers insist upon bringing is a large piece of pipe or tubing, which is wedged into the ground in order to prevent the sides of the hole from collapsing while digging.
Of course, I eschewed such luxuries during my foray into Oak Bay.
What sort of reality television star would I be if I opted for the conventional route?
No, I walked out onto that beach armed only with a shovel and a purpose.
Unfortunately, I walked back to my car with only a couple of horse clams in my bucket
Part of the reason for that: Oak Bay isn’t exactly loaded with geoducks like it once was.
The other part: Identifying geoduck shows is something that requires practice.
Initially, it’s easy to mistake a horse clam’s siphon for that of a geoduck. The main difference: The former’s is rough like sandpaper while the latter’s is more fleshy and slick.
As one beach patron told me Wednesday, a geoduck clam show looks sort of like a double-barrel shotgun sticking up through muck.
Despite a couple of trips along the tidal zone, I never encountered such a distinct show.
As pilot episodes go, “The Geoduck Whisperer” was a disaster.
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Matt Schubert is the outdoors and sports columnist for the Peninsula Daily News. His column regularly appears on Thursdays and Fridays. He can be reached at matt.schubert@peninsuladailynews.com.