Justin Hills will tell you that public safety has been his whole life. When he was younger, he’d hoped to join the FBI or Secret Service. But after college in Boston, then a few more years working there, he decided he wanted to start a family back in Maine. He began as a Police Officer for the Camden Police Department. Then, because he wanted to give back to the community, he volunteered for the Ambulance Service, first as a driver, then working his way up to being paramedic which evolved to a full-time job. When the Shellfish Warden job in Knox opened, he went for it even though, as Justin says, “I’m from inland, from Union. I know the woods. Being on the water was new to me.” He’s been Waldoboro’s Shellfish Warden since 2018, working four jobs under one hat. Foremost, he is Shellfish Warden for the soft-shelled clams in the Medomak River. Two, he works at least one shift as a Police Officer. Three, when needed, he runs as a paramedic with the Ambulance Service. Four, he is Harbor Master. And here, as the cliché goes, he’s happier than a clam.
Depending on how things went the last week, is how I pick where to go each day. So, I go to open areas. I go to closed areas to see if there’s been activity there. “Oh. I see some digging marks here. I see some footprints over there, probably the last day or two, and oh, somebody’s been in here.” So I now I make that a project. I’m going to spend more time around that area. Walking the shore more. Coming in earlier and sitting in the woods to see somebody come back.
I’m always checking. What are my cameras picking up? What’s chatter in town about people digging? Poaching can be digging in closed areas, taking clams less than 2”, or digging without a license. Just think, if you have to buy a $200 license to dig here, you’ve a reasonable expectation to those clams. So if you see somebody, you might say, “Well, that guy doesn’t have a license and he’s taking my clams.” And guys will let me know what’s going on.
But on this river, there’s lots of spots that are hard to find. I take the truck and walk in, even if it means walking a half mile or so, because in a boat, the tides can trap me. Besides, a digger can hear the motor. He can see me. But if I’m walking through the woods, I get down in a cove and listen to them digging, playing their music, talking about the Patriots game the night before, and wait a few minutes. Then I pop out and say, “Hi!” And totally surprise them.
I have a list of everybody who has a town license. I can look at their build, what they’re wearing, if they’re left-handed, if they’re digging or picking for clams, and say, “Yeah, I know that fellow, he’s got a license.” I get the patterns of these guys, like where they like to dig, what time of year, where they’ll be, who they’ll have with them, and on what days. I know whose boat is whose, and how they use it, maybe just to get across a creek because if they had to walk to that area, they’d have to park in Bremen and walk a full mile to the flat. But if they park up here, they just walk the quarter mile and row the boat across. Ahhhh, work smarter, not harder.
That’s what these guys are all about. They’ll find anything to give them an advantage. They’re good at that. This is their livelihood. How are they going to save on the wear and tear of their backs? By finding the shortest distance. It’s not always legal. They don’t always get permission from the landowner. But that’s part of why I’m out here.
Personally, I think the biggest violation is digging in closed area. The area is closed for a reason. It’s because the Department of Marine Resources says that water tests in that area have come back poor. So, if somebody digs a closed area and those clams make it into circulation for the public to buy, somebody could get very sick. Somebody could die.
These guys are little guys walking around in the mud. I’m 6’7” and 350 pounds. One guy told me, “Justin – we don’t want you walking in here because we’re afraid you won’t come back. And you’re alone a lot. We’ve been stuck in the mud and wondering if we could get out. But you, Justin – you’re never going to get out, not at 350.” Well, I was down in Long Cove and yup, I went in up to my hip. I was right at the edge where the tide comes in over this grassy knoll. And for the first 30 seconds when I couldn’t move, I was like, “Where’s my contingency plan?” There was no cell phone reception. Dispatch was silent. I was on my own. I had to dig for almost a half hour to get the suction away to get my leg up and out of there.
But I’ve been fortunate. The diggers are my boss, and they’ve been good to me. So I try to open up more communication between the diggers, me and the Shellfish Committee. They know I’m always available. They see that I’m out here, doing my job. Even at the Irving when I’m getting a coffee, I see them all in there, stocking up on supplies before going out for the day. They’ll ask me questions. They’ll make comments. They’ll ask about what happened at the Shellfish Committee. And I like that, being the middleman, and keeping them informed. That’s my style.
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