About a week in advance, the lobsters, clams, and seaweed were ordered from Colony Farms, a seafood market and wholesaler in Worcester. They were picked up a day in advance and the lobsters kept in coolers, and the seaweed kept wet in a barrel of water. The clams were kept in a cooler, layered with ice and cornmeal. (First the ice, then the clams, then the cornmeal, then ice, clams, cornmeal repeated until the clams are all packed in.) The cooler was tipped to drain, so the clams wouldn't fill up with freshwater which could kill them. . The clams ate the cornmeal, and eliminated the sludge from their bellies, so their bellies became tasty pockets of cornmeal instead of yucky parts to avoid when we ate them. In a group effort, the clams were packed into cheesecloth pouches in which to cook.
A clambake essentially is the creation of a giant temporary outdoor pressure cooker to steam the food. Besides lobsters and clams, we had corn cooked by the same method, soaked in the husk overnight. We also had onions wrapped in foil, which some people apparently like to have at clambakes. (I’m not entirely averse to them, but not a fan—there’s just so much else to eat, so I don't bother with them.)
Here's how the clambake was done, with vivid photos taken by Anna Foss and (my brother) Joe LaCroix, who graciously furnished me with a flash drive of photos to choose from. Thank you.
Dad used the tractor to dig the pit.
The pit was lined with stones, and the fire started with kindling.
After adding the big logs, the fire had to be oxygenated to keep it going. Yes, that is a leaf blower Dad is using. Some “scattered showers” were passing through, and the fire needed all the help it could get.
The guys knocked down the fire. They pushed the remains of the big logs off the fire using brooms and rakes, to expose the hot rocks which cook the food.
A casualty of the knocking-down procedure.
Seaweed on the hot stones.
Then a thoroughly pre-soaked canvas tarp over that.
Then the food was added to the pile. One lobster and a bag of clams was put right near the edge, so one can check for done-ness (if those are done, the others are too) without letting a lot of steam out.
Then the thoroughly pre-soaked comforter that used to be my sister’s (not shown) on top of that, and then the top tarp.
Sand weighed down the edges of the tarp to trap the steam. See how the tarp makes a bubble.
Meanwhile, I was in the kitchen melting four pounds of salted butter in a saucepan in the kitchen. Salted butter is the preferred dipping sauce from clams and lobsters. It sounds like a ridiculous amount, but with 30 people or so, it was all used, and we resorted to margarine (“I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter” (tm) ) when we ran out, but that wasn't quite as good.

