Some fisherman driving out his weir, probably.
The sand of the outer bar was dimpled and mottled like watered silk by the action of the waves.

It sloped gradually down to meet the miniature breakers that rolled over and slid in ripples along its edge.

Ellery wandered up and down, picking up shells and sea clams, and peering through the nets of the nearest weir at the "horsefoot crabs" and squid and flounders imprisoned in the pound.

There were a few bluefish there, also, and a small school of mackerel.
The minister had been on the bar a considerable time before he began to think of returning to the shore.

He was hungry, but was enjoying himself too well to mind.