It was 1979 my dad came down the stairs and woke me let’s go it was only 4 am but back then you didn’t question your parents (wrong or right). So I threw on my cutoffs, a shirt and sneakers. He already had the pickup truck loaded with clam forks, 2cycle oil and dry ice. As we headed down river road I could see the sleepy site of Sikorsky Aircraft in the distance and the temperature always caused the fog to loom along the Housatonic and then into Devon route 110. He never said much but I guess he knew I loved this! As we headed toward the grated bridge we always stopped to see the old Lithuanian bait man and grab whatever we needed, jelly worms, Saran’s, silver queens or live bait. At the time, I was in summer school and finished with good grades so he put together a 1955 wolverine with a 25 HP Johnson outboard motor. We lived on the upper part of the river in Shelton and I had a good place to acclimate myself with the water. The boat even said Big Al on the back! As we headed through the grass path to the mouth of the river, I could see the Stratford Gun Club on the right of my bow just past the Jetty. We turned left to the shellfish bed threw out an anchor and got our gear. Do I stick my leg in, I’m wondering?? Oh!! that’s cold as dad handed me the fork and bushel basket. The sun was just starting to pop over the horizon as I thought about how much I liked this education! Dad taught me how to read a compass , know the marker buoy’s, and how to use the sonar for depth finding, it was awesome! By 9th grade I knew how to navigate the big pond, Long Island Sound. We dug a lot of clams that day and it was a great memory and great family values were taught to me! That is what I know.