“Hey, don’t forget to bring the waders. Remember the ones we used during the penalty? I kept them instead of throwing them away. Good thing I did—we’re going to need them tonight for the sea foraging.
”
I’m on my way to Taean with the team. We’ve got a plan: hit the beach around low tide, drop a trap for eels or octopus, and if we’re lucky, cook up some seafood ramen right there. The timing works out perfectly—low tide hits around 1 AM, so we’ll have a couple of hours to dig and explore. “Wait, you brought the pots and gas burner, right?
Yeah, I grabbed them. We’ll borrow the rest of the gear from the local shop near our stay. They rent everything—suits, gloves, headlamps. Even the hats with the mesh to keep the bugs off your face.
”
We’re also doing a quick convenience store run before we head out. My partner grabs some triangle kimbap and a chocolate donut, while I pick up a bottle of iced tea and a snack. We’re not trying to overdo it—just enough to keep us going through the night. “You know, last time I did this, the bugs were terrible.
All those flies and mosquitoes near the fields. That’s why I brought the long sleeves. Better safe than sorry. ”
We’re meeting up with another streamer friend at the beach.
She’s already there waiting, parked by the shore with her own gear. We haven’t done a collab since that last big event, so this is kind of exciting. We’re both a little nervous about the mud and the cold water, but we’re ready. “I’m not sure we’ll catch anything big, but even if we just get some clams and a few small crabs, that’s a win.
We’ll cook them up and make a nice little meal by the water. ”
The sun’s setting fast, and the air’s getting cooler. We’ve got about an hour until we need to hit the beach and find a good spot before the water pulls back. I check my phone one more time—the tide charts look good, and the weather’s clear.
No excuses now. “Alright, let’s head out. We’ll grab some food on the way, maybe hit that donut place again. I’m still thinking about that classic glazed one—simple, but hits the spot.
”
We pile into the car and start driving along the coastal road, windows down, music playing low. The ocean’s just a dark line in the distance, but I can already smell the salt. Tonight’s going to be messy, muddy, and totally worth it. “Just hope I don’t slip and fall into the mud.
Or worse—drop my phone in the water. ”
We pull up to a small seafood shop to see if they have any fresh bait. No luck there, so we stop by the convenience store again for some snacks and drinks. I grab a can of coffee and a bag of shrimp chips.
My partner picks up another triangle kimbap and a bottle of water. “You think we’ll get lucky tonight? I mean, we’re not professionals or anything. But if we catch even one octopus, I’ll be happy.
We can grill it right there on the beach. ”
We’re about ten minutes from the spot now. The moon’s starting to rise, and the tide’s still high. We find a small parking area near the path and get our gear together.
Flashlights, gloves, buckets, and the waders. I double-check the batteries and make sure the zip locks are sealed. “Okay, I think we’re ready. Let’s go see what we can find.
”
We walk down the sandy trail, the sound of waves getting louder with each step. The beach is empty except for a few distant figures with headlamps—other foragers hoping for a good haul. We pick a spot near some rocks and start setting up. “I’ll drop the trap over there by the seaweed.
You start digging around those tide pools for clams. ”
The water’s cold, but the waders keep us dry. We work in silence for a bit, focused on the task. After about twenty minutes, I feel a tug on the line—something’s in the trap.
I pull it up slowly, hoping it’s not just a crab. “Hey, I think I got something. It feels heavy. ”
We gather around and open the trap.
Inside, there’s a decent-sized octopus, its tentacles curling around the mesh. We both let out a shout, surprised and thrilled. That’s more than we expected. “We actually caught one.
This is going to be a good night after all. ”
We keep digging for a little while longer, finding a handful of clams and a few small crabs. It’s not a huge haul, but it’s enough for a meal. We start packing up and head back to the car, ready to cook our catch.
“Let’s get back to the lodge and fire up the stove. I’m starving. ”
We drive back, the smell of salt and mud clinging to our clothes. At the lodge, the owner lets us use the outdoor kitchen.
We rinse off the octopus and clams, boil some water, and drop in a packet of ramen. The seafood goes in next, and within a few minutes, the pot’s bubbling with a rich, savory broth. “This looks great. I can’t believe we actually made this happen.
”
We sit by the fire, eating straight from the pot, steam rising into the cool night air. The octopus is tender, the clams sweet, the broth perfect. For a moment, we forget about the mud and the bugs and the long drive. This is what it’s all about.
“We should do this more often. Same time next week? ”
I look at the empty pot and the scattered shells, then up at the stars. It’s past midnight, and we’re tired, but neither of us wants to call it a night just yet.
The ocean’s still out there, and who knows what else we might find before sunrise. “One more trip out? Just to see if the tide’s brought anything new.
”
We grin at each other, grab our headlamps, and head back toward the beach, the waves calling us again.