While quiet on the trip there, Francis definitely came out of his "shell" when he spotted roadside clam vendor Stephen, who we met this summer at the convention. Stephen's buckets were filled with fresh clams, and we shot the salty breeze while Francis pored over the buckets, selecting what would be our dinner tonight. I have to say he did a good job - our risotto was delicious - though some of the credit of course goes to Stephen for dredging them up!
Stephen told us an interesting story. According to Eastern Shore lore, a giant clam once appeared on a moonlit night to an old fisherman, who tried to wrestle it into his boat but was instead swallowed whole, never to be heard from again. Stephen then produced a pearl from his pocket and implied that it was perhaps the fisherman in calcium carbonate form - I laughed, but he gave me the pearl and told me to keep it safe, sounding very mysterious. Francis offered to pay, but Stephen would have none of it, and even threw in some mussels with our clam haul.
Overall, I'd say, a successful trip!
A clam shell
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