Clams

Seven juvenile giant clams were stolen from an exhibit of the threatened species at the Waikiki Aquarium, and officials appealed for their return. The clams, ranging in length from 1 to 4 inches, were part of a new display of 44 of the shellfish, said Andrew Rossiter, director of the aquarium. "It was a betrayal of the trust we have in the public," he said.

Long before Europeans settled here, Pacific Coast tribes knew to avoid eating shellfish when the waves sparkled at night. Their folk wisdom was sound science. The toxic algae responsible for paralytic shellfish poisoning light up seawater with bioluminescence when cells are agitated in the surf. More recently, a stealthier type of algae has been blooming along the West Coast. They leave no telltale luminescence even though they can kill seabirds and marine mammals and make people sick.

California and Nevada agreed Thursday to jointly mount a counterattack against invasive species that pose an increasing threat to Lake Tahoe's azure waters. California Secretary of Natural Resources Mike Chrisman and Nevada Gov. Jim Gibbons signed the agreement during an environmental summit that annually brings together scientists, politicians, federal land managers and conservationists to get updates on the condition of the lake and new potential sources of harm to its famed clarity.

Pounding surf, dive-bombing birds and howling wind hardly seem a safe environment for a nursery, but Ventura County beaches have become a crib for a clam comeback the likes of which hasn't been seen in years, scientists say. A fortuitous alignment of environmental conditions is leading to a clam population explosion. Go to the right beach at low tide, turn a spadeful of wet sand and odds are you will uncover dozens of the bottom-hugging sea creatures.

After a lifetime spent digging for black clams in the swamps that line the coast here, Clojilda Velasco remembers when she could count on finding 400 a day. Now she's lucky if she gets 100. But she still shares when one of the other women comes up salado, or unlucky.

Chuck Bray was in the surf above his knees, digging with a pitchfork for one last pismo clam before the tide rose too high. Just a few yards away, his fiercest competitor, a four-legged fur ball, happily banged two clamshells together until one broke. The 50-pound sea otter, once threatened with extinction, gobbled up the clam and dived down for another. "At one point, the otter was just 15 feet from us," said the cold and soggy Bray, who drove all the way from Salinas to go clamming.

The river is his, 100 miles of silt-choked brown water and all the clams he can haul up from the murk until he drops from fatigue. Dan Davies has the entire upper Mississippi River to himself, a diver's paradise, but he wonders how long it will be before he too is banished from its depths. Beyond blades of sun leaching through the cottonwoods and river maples, Davies nudges his flat-bottom boat out to pools where the clams lay stratified on the sandy Mississippi bottom like bricks in mortar.

HOT CLAM DIP 1 (8-ounce) can minced clams 2 tablespoons butter 2 tablespoons minced onion 2 tablespoons catsup Few drops hot pepper sauce 1 cup diced sharp Cheddar cheese 2 tablespoons chopped ripe olives 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce 1 loaf French bread, optional Drain clams, reserving 1 tablespoon liquid. Melt butter in skillet, add onion and cook until tender, but not brown. Add clams, reserved liquid, catsup, hot pepper sauce, cheese, olives and Worcestershire sauce.

Joseph Bagley speaks with the hesitancy of a man who has been disappointed before. A fisherman most of his life, the Suquamish Indian has watched the salmon harvest--and his bank account--swing from feast to famine, year after year. But standing on the deck of the Silver Mist on a chilly Northwest morning, he finds it hard not to feel hopeful. "It's the best job I've ever had," the slender Bagley says as he peels off his dripping wetsuit.

What a pretty Chablis from young négociant and winemaker Patrick Piuze, a French Canadian who stopped to work the harvest in Burgundy 11 years ago and basically never went home again. After studying winemaking in Beaune, he oversaw Maison Olivier Leflaive's line of Chablis. Now he has his own project and makes a whole slew of classic grand cru and premier cru Chablis. The bargain, though, is this 2011 Petit Chablis, a Chardonnay made from grapes grown at higher elevations or on mixed limestone soils in the Chablis region of northern Burgundy.