Oyster hunt

One of the most fun things I've done lately: hunting for eastern oysters (Crassostrea virginica) on an undisclosed beach in Boston Harbor. Led by Andrew Jay of the Massachusetts Oyster Project (MOP), a few of us oyster volunteer newbies walked the beach in hopes of maybe finding a specimen or two of the native shellfish. We went four steps and found a handful. We walked farther and discovered that the entire rocky beach (at low tide) was littered with them. There must have been thousands! They were in all shapes, sizes, and colors-- all extremely beautiful, in my eyes. The questions this discovery brings up are myriad. For starters:

Why are there so many here?
Why are they that yellow color?
Is the water polluted? Are the oysters polluted?
How long have they been here?
Are there other locations in Boston Harbor that have this large of an oyster population?
Is there a major source reef below the low tide line that is spawning them all?
We found mostly American oysters but some European ones too. Do they compete for resources?
And most importantly: what do we do with this information? Do we try to put down shell here to further stimulate reef growth? Do we monitor it? Do we tell the DMF (Division of Marine Fisheries)? How do we protect it?

So many interesting questions. For my own part, I want to know more about the history of oysters in Boston. Andrew mentioned that oysters were a major part of the coastline at one time in Boston, but either through pollution or over-harvesting or both, they are severely depleted now. The complication with MOP's mission to restore oysters in Boston for ecological reasons is that age-old laws prevent planting shellfish in places that may be polluted and therefore make them unsafe to eat. But this ignores all of the amazing ecological benefits oyster populations provide to the harbor. Then again, things are changing. This is a time in which recognition of the importance of conservation, protection, and restoration of biological diversity is becoming more and more a part of everyday conversation. DMF wouldn't actually remove a growing and thriving oyster population in order to comply with food safety regulations- would they? It is very hard to believe. We don't want to damage our ecosystems purely to follow some old policy guidelines. So it seems that it wouldn't be much of a leap to expect that the DMF should be helping to promote and reestablish the populations for ecological reasons. It's a catch-22, they don't want us putting oysters in the harbor because the water isn't clean enough, but the more oysters we have living in the harbor, the cleaner the water will get! Each individual oyster filters 30 gallons of water per day! After seeing a beach covered in oysters, I had to be struck by the sheer impact that this amount of oysters can have on the health of our harbor.

So back to my point about the history of oysters, and learning more about oyster ecosystem impacts, Andrew mentioned a book, The Big Oyster, as a pivotal work that turned he and a whole group of ocean enthusiasts into oyster protectors (and led to the birth of the MOP). I also checked out this kickstarter page about "3-D ocean farming" in which a Long Island Sound oyster farmer Brendan Smith of Thimble Island Oyster Co. has pioneered ways to farm the entire water column (check out the jaw-droppingly beautiful kelp harvests). He is not only cultivating this bounty of the sea, he's also educating people on how to cook and eat this sustainably grown seafood, and even engages teenagers in the work in a program called the "Green Wave" (shout-out to the AHS mascot ;-)). I am learning that the ocean ecosystem is much more than the surface and the floor with a barren expanse of water inbetween. Rather, it is a complex, multi-layered world in which every single organism builds upon one another and needs such 3-D reef structures to survive.

I have to admit I'm giddy (and likewise my new oyster friends were giddy right along with me) at being part of an environmental science mystery story as well as having gotten a taste of environmental activism that involves the fight for the health of my very own harbor. I think we look pretty good in our new Oyster Project trucker hats too.

Here's a video about Thimble Island's 3D farming iniatiative:

Points of inspiration

Take me outside.

Tonight I get to go hunting for oysters on the beach in Winthrop. Low tide is at 7:30 p.m.

Next week I get to sample water from the Mystic River and learn what tests they do to determine quality.

Today I got a reading list of New England geology resources that I hope to start on. Roadside Geology of Massachusetts is one; so I could be compelled out onto the highways looking at bedrock sometime soon.

Tomorrow I have an interview to be a guide at a Somerville chocolate factory. In a couple weeks I am scheduled to give out veggies to CSA members at a farmers market at South Station. (Did the same last week, got a wicked sunburn, but also lots of delicious produce, like blueberries and garlic scapes and kohlrabi).

This past weekend I rode bikes with my parents through the richie rich parts of New Seabury, Cape Cod, and ended up at Waquoit Bay Nature Preserve. We locked up the bikes and started down the sandy path (so sandy, it was a workout). It was like a botany tour going out, and a bird-watching tour coming back. Juniper, cedar (which is which?), lots of poison ivy, bayberry, blueberry, roseated tern, piping plover, killdeer. And a jetty, by a boat super-highway, with kite-surfers sailing about. The fishermen on the jetty seemed to be leaving empty-handed, but maybe there's something else that draws them to hike a mile in sinking sand to get to that coveted spot.

Also last week I ended one of those hotter than hot days at 32White -- the magical backyard barbecue that more often than not ends in carpooling to Walden Pond for nightswimming. And it did. We parked at a "field" and walked by starlight past farms and fireflies shouting "car" whenever we saw headlights as if we were a bunch of street hockey kids on the neighborhood block. We tread water and wondered about cicadas and triathletes and shooting stars.

Pretty soon I need to go have lunch with my grandfather and ask him about Nova Scotia again. I think he's driving up there again this summer. What was his fisherman father like? What details can he remember of their wee-hours boat launch ritual and how did they endure the long choppy days at sea? What did his mother cook for dinner? What did she grow in the backyard? What did she make their clothes out of? Where are his cousins and friends and aunts and uncles now? What would his life have been like if his mother didn't send him to live with Aunt Nell in Quincy so he could get an education?

Here's to summer, and being outside.