Tag: York River

A few hours before Hurricane Matthew made a fuss in eastern Virginia, I was on the water with my cousin Mark. Mark left a corporate career to become a waterman. He has started an oyster aquaculture business on the York River on 240 acres of oyster grounds (100 ha) leased from the Virginia Marine Resources Commission. The beds – which are in view of the site of Cornwallis’s surrender to Washington at the end of the Revolutionary War – are also in view of Mark’s home on the river. He measures his commute in feet.

His aquaculture operation takes microscopic oyster spat to seed size, about the size of a coin. Seed oysters are then transferred to shell beds or cages to mature and reach market size. 

On the day of my visit Mark pulled a cage to send me home with about three dozen tender beauties. His grounds are in mid-salinity waters in the York, and his oysters are fat and sweet and not too metallic at the finish. The cage shown here holds about 500 oysters that have been growing contentedly for about fourteen months. 

Mark has rigged a pontoon boat with a crane and winch, and he uses a platform that functions as a large funnel to return by-catch and wash water to the river. The cages are also home to hundreds of sea squirts, crabs, and bottom-dwelling fish. 

He is still looking for a brand name for his oysters. Visitors are encouraged to leave suggestions, and a wall on his deck is covered with dozens of post-its with ideas. I offered “Clay Bank Sweets,” but I think my favorite is “High Mark Oysters.” 

Addenda: Mark will never be found on a boat without a Tilley hat. This is an immutable truth. The fish shown in this photo set is an oyster toadfish (Opsanus tau), and so large it must have taken up residence in the cage at a very early age. The little crab is a black-fingered mud crab (Panopeus herbstii) that has lost a claw. If it still has a molt left in its lifecycle it is possible the missing cheliped will regenerate. If you look closely at the photo with the flag you will see a streak from a smudge on my camera lens where a sea squirt got me. For such small, brainless things, their aim is uncanny. 

A few hours before Hurricane Matthew made a fuss in eastern Virginia, I was on the water with my cousin Mark. Mark left a corporate career to become a waterman. He has started an oyster aquaculture business on the York River on 240 acres of oyster grounds (100 ha) leased from the Virginia Marine Resources Commission. The beds – which are in view of the site of Cornwallis’s surrender to Washington at the end of the Revolutionary War – are also in view of Mark’s home on the river. He measures his commute in feet.

His aquaculture operation takes microscopic oyster spat to seed size, about the size of a coin. Seed oysters are then transferred to shell beds or cages to mature and reach market size. 

On the day of my visit Mark pulled a cage to send me home with about three dozen tender beauties. His grounds are in mid-salinity waters in the York, and his oysters are fat and sweet and not too metallic at the finish. The cage shown here holds about 500 oysters that have been growing contentedly for about fourteen months. 

Mark has rigged a pontoon boat with a crane and winch, and he uses a platform that functions as a large funnel to return by-catch and wash water to the river. The cages are also home to hundreds of sea squirts, crabs, and bottom-dwelling fish. 

He is still looking for a brand name for his oysters. Visitors are encouraged to leave suggestions, and a wall on his deck is covered with dozens of post-its with ideas. I offered “Clay Bank Sweets,” but I think my favorite is “High Mark Oysters.” 

Addenda: Mark will never be found on a boat without a Tilley hat. This is an immutable truth. The fish shown in this photo set is an oyster toadfish (Opsanus tau), and so large it must have taken up residence in the cage at a very early age. The little crab is a black-fingered mud crab (Panopeus herbstii) that has lost a claw. If it still has a molt left in its lifecycle it is possible the missing cheliped will regenerate. If you look closely at the photo with the flag you will see a streak from a smudge on my camera lens where a sea squirt got me. For such small, brainless things, their aim is uncanny. 

Together we shucked two pints of select Clay Bank oysters. Tomorrow I’ll feast on fried oysters for lunch, and a bowl of oyster stew for dinner to keep me warm during our next big snow.

FatChance Oyster Stew

Saute two tablespoons of finely grated shallot or onion in 1 tablespoon butter, until onion is soft and fragrant. Add 2 cups of cream or half-and-half and 1 cup of shucked oysters and their liquor. Raise heat but do not allow to boil, and cook for about five minutes. Add salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste. Serve immediately. Oyster crackers are a traditional accompaniment, but plain old saltine crackers work just as well. 

Together we shucked two pints of select Clay Bank oysters. Tomorrow I’ll feast on fried oysters for lunch, and a bowl of oyster stew for dinner to keep me warm during our next big snow.

FatChance Oyster Stew

Saute two tablespoons of finely grated shallot or onion in 1 tablespoon butter, until onion is soft and fragrant. Add 2 cups of cream or half-and-half and 1 cup of shucked oysters and their liquor. Raise heat but do not allow to boil, and cook for about five minutes. Add salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste. Serve immediately. Oyster crackers are a traditional accompaniment, but plain old saltine crackers work just as well. 

A few of the oysters I shucked were hosting tiny oyster crabs (Zeops ostreus), a common parasite of oysters and other bivalves in east coast waters. The crabs graze on plankton the oysters siphon to feed themselves.

Over time a crab can damage an oyster’s fleshy mantle, but they are harmless to people, aside from being, well, alarmingly ugly, and (such a fraught word) parasites. I am an aquatic biologist not bothered by such things, and I find them interesting, if not attractive.

The specimen above was about a centimeter wide. You can easily visualize internal organs through its translucent shell. Based on the small size of its eyes, I think this little crab is female.   

A few of the oysters I shucked were hosting tiny oyster crabs (Zeops ostreus), a common parasite of oysters and other bivalves in east coast waters. The crabs graze on plankton the oysters siphon to feed themselves.

Over time a crab can damage an oyster’s fleshy mantle, but they are harmless to people, aside from being, well, alarmingly ugly, and (such a fraught word) parasites. I am an aquatic biologist not bothered by such things, and I find them interesting, if not attractive.

The specimen above was about a centimeter wide. You can easily visualize internal organs through its translucent shell. Based on the small size of its eyes, I think this little crab is female.