This is a lovely Virginia clam, which I dug myself from a shoal off of Chincoteague Island in Virginia. I was happy about this 350 pounds of clams ago - the three of us dug 3 bushels of clams. We filled a 120 quart cooler (big as a bathtub almost), plus a large tote bag, plus another bushel we gave away. I had to keep them cool since Sunday afternoon, cart the cooler home in the backseat of the car, and have been baking them and steaming them ever since. Joe and I cannot CANNOT stomach eating one more, so they are getting baked, shucked, and stored in their own clam juices in the freezer for making chowder or fritters or SOMETHING some other time. My entire house smells of clam. My trash bin is filled with de-shucked clamshells. Now, I realize this is my own fault. In my defense, I told the Captain we really didn't need more than a bushel at most, but he really really really wanted us to take the harvest limit for some reason, and simply could not understand that we didn't want MORE. I am done clamming. Done. If you should ever want to dig your own clams, the way to find them is to look for clam "litter", or places where the water they spit out landed and made marks on the sand. Also, something about keyhole shapes I didn't quite gather since I was panicking at that point about having too many already.