Water temperatures are cooling, oysters are fattening, and blue crabs are burrowing.

Maryland’s watermen, meanwhile, have removed canopies from their boats that protected them from the summer’s rays. They’ve replaced them, variously, with the full array of oyster harvesting equipment, including hand tongs, patent tongs, diving tanks, power dredges, and sail-powered dredging gear. The state opened its public wild harvest areas to tongers and divers on Oct. 1 and to dredgers on Nov. 1.

That means more fried oysters, oysters on the half shell, oyster stews, oyster fritters, oyster pot pies, and scalloped oysters are now appearing on the menus of regional restaurants to the delight of fresh seafood lovers. And lest we forget, oyster stuffing with sage that graces so many Thanksgiving tables.

Shown on opening day, Oct. 1, with their limit-catch of hand-tonged oysters from Broad Creek waters, just north of Choptank River, are (l-r) Johnny Gay, Jason Gay and Annie Barre

Gregg Bortz provided the following statistics regarding Maryland crab and oyster harvests in recent years.

Maryland landed about 24.23 million pounds of blue crab in 2023 with a dockside value of about $52.95 million.

In 2024, Maryland landed about 25.18 million pounds of blue crab with a dockside value of $48.67 million.”

With no scientific or expert explanation, I would speculate that the reduction in dockside value in 2024, despite a higher harvest from the previous year, resulted from the higher prices of groceries due to inflation, which reduced overall demand for crabmeat, still considered somewhat of a luxury item.

Bortz said commercial wild-caught oyster harvests for 2023-24 were 437,536 bushels with a dockside value of $15.64 million. For 2024-25, the wild-caught harvest numbered 319,986 bushels with a dockside value of $11.83 million, a significant reduction from the previous year.

That 319,986 number is the smallest recorded harvest of wild caught oysters by Maryland’s watermen since the 2019-2020 season when the harvest dipped to 274,325 bushels. Other recent harvests include 346,698 bushels in the 2020-2021 season; 548,558 bushels for 2021-2022; 722,850 bushels for the 2022-2023 season; and the 437,536 bushels mentioned above for the 2023-2024 season..

One possible reason for the decline in the 2024-2025 harvest could be the fact that Maryland’s watermen only purchased 1,122 oyster licenses for that year compared to 1,293 for the previous year. Weather variables aside, fewer watermen harvesting typically means fewer oysters harvested

And finally, here are the numbers of licensed Maryland watermen (any species) for the past decade, which have been fairly consistent:

2023 – 6,256; 2022 –  6,228; 2021 – 6,270; 2020 – 6,255; 2019  – 6,209; 2018 – 6,224; 2017 – 6,222; 2016 – 6,250; 2015 – 6,206; 2014 – 6,073; 2013 – 5,860.

Dennis Forney has been a publisher, journalist, and columnist on the Delmarva Peninsula since 1972.  He writes from his home on Grace Creek in Bozman.

Lewis Carter, 79, has been oystering and crabbing since he was 15 years old. DENNIS FORNEY PHOTOS

A warm and sunny afternoon in late March. Light winds. A dozen or so deadrises still oystering out on Broad Creek.

Many of the boats have already come in; the earliest, two young divers who have been the first to get their 12-bushel limits for many days now.

Price has been holding steady at $35 per bushel to the watermen. Pretty much about that all season. When the wild season ends, the bushel price may nearly double for cultivated oysters. Supply goes down, demand holds steady for another couple months, price goes up.  Like the tides, up and down.

Last day of the 2024-2025 wild oyster season is just around the corner: March 31.  On April 1, the 2025 crabbing season opens.

Two of the vessels working the hand-tonging waters on this day carry watermen many generations apart in ages.

A third vessel, Bobby B, carries a waterman and his partner, Ann Barrett, who shares the culling chores. They’re underway toward the dock to offload.

Jason Gay can’t wait for the season to end.

“So many boats out there, after six months it’s getting harder and harder to get our oysters.”

They’ve been oystering many years. Six-month seasons, starting Oct. 1.  When March 31 arrives, they’re ready for a change of pace.  Then it will be about six months of crabbing.  When October rolls around, Jason will be glad to trade his trotline for his hand tongs.  That’s the rhythm for these watermen.

“I’ll probably start crabbing in mid April,” he says. “Get the boat cleaned up and then go.”

Tonging oysters off the bottom is dirtier work than dipping crabs from trotline baits.

Off will come the tongs and culling tables.  On will come the canopy to provide shade against the sun, along with the trotlining gear: baskets and nets and measuring sticks.

Jason Gay is ready for the wild oyster season to be over.

Out in the creek, men aboard the two other generations-apart vessels have finished tonging.  They’re near the end of their culling: separating legal-size oysters from the smalls with sharp blows from their metal hammers, tossing over empty shells to catch next year’s spat, filling their final baskets of the day.

Lewis Carter works by himself. “No January, no February for me,” he says.  “Can’t stand no cold. Used to break ice to get out here but no more. I’m 79 years old.  Been doing this since I was 15.  64 years.  Charles Bryan took me on when I was 11, culling oysters, cleaning up. Quit school when I was 15. Other than time in the Army,  I’ve been at this ever since.”

Lewis says he opted for the water to make a living. “Back then the minimum wage was 75 cents an hour. Figured I could do better on the water.”

Lewis trotlines summers out of Kent Narrows, mostly in Cabin Creek and Chester River. He lives nearby in Queenstown but brings his boat down  to Broad Creek in the winter for oysters. “They won’t let you oyster in the Chester, only certain times they have reserved.”

He says he doesn’t like the sanctuaries the state has in place where oystering is prohibited.  He doesn’t think the sanctuaries are doing much for the Chesapeake’s oyster populations. “The oysters have always taken care of themselves.”

He named his boat after his granddaughter, Chelonte.  “I bought it off of Capt. Warren Butler.  He had 17 boats over the years.  This was his last one.”

He said this year’s been a good oyster season. “Good oysters, about the same as last year. I guess I’ll keep on doing it until I can’t do it any more.  It’s better than settin’ home, waiting for death.  I’ll meet him halfway.”

A few hundred yards away, also working the typically productive bars of Broad Creek, just north of the Choptank, Kadan Longenecker and Severn Cummings agree that the 2024-2025 season has been a good year despite the ups and downs of the market.

Kadan says the bars are in good shape with lots of little ones still coming. “You can see the growth in them.”

Many decades younger than Lewis, they worked right on through January and February, as long as they had market and weather cooperated.  They’ll follow suit with Lewis, switching to crabbing. They will start in April

But Lewis said he won’’t start until probably the middle of May.  He’ll take his time switching his gear, giving his lean and hard body a rest, letting the air and water warm up, but giving little thought to staying home as he enters his eighth decade of life on the Chesapeake.

Dennis Forney has been a publisher, journalist and columnist on the Delmarva Peninsula since 1972.  He writes from his home on Grace Creek in Bozman.

Nick Hargrove on the deck of the buyboat Bivalve he uses for deploying shells to Chesapeake Bay oyster bars. His rapidly growing Tilghman Island Seafood operation is located just over the drawbridge at Knapps Narrows. DENNIS FORNEY PHOTO

“At Tilghman Island Seafood, we collaborate closely with watermen who are dedicated to the Chesapeake Bay’s unique ecosystem.  These local watermen recognize that their livelihoods are deeply connected to the health of our waters. We are committed to balancing productive fishing with responsible practices to help secure the Bay’s future.” – FromTilghman Island Seafood’s promotional marketing material

Rumplestiltskin perfected a method for spinning straw into gold.  A pretty neat trick.

Now some latter-day local Rumplestiltskins– swapping American ingenuity for the spinning wheel–are doing something similar except with invasive catfish and oyster shells instead of straw.

Blue catfish ravaging Chesapeake Bay’s crabbing and finfish industries, and millions of tons of discarded and aging oyster shells on Washington’s Pacific coast are proving profitable for enterprising watermen. Ecological benefits are also part of this unique equation.

Nick Hargrove of Tilghman Island Seafood and his oyster partners at Dorchester County’s Farm Creek Oyster Farm and Madison Shell Recycling–brothers Alex and Benny Horseman–are in the thick of what is shaping up to be an inspired renaissance for the Chesapeake seafood industry. Inspired, because Hargrove’s marketing of catfish from coast to coast is helping control a damaging invasive species, while importing discarded west coast oyster shells is helping address the scarcity of local oyster shells needed for restoration of the Chesapeake’s oyster populations. Good for the oyster industry. and good for cleaning the Bay’s waters.

That, in turn, is solving Pacific Seafood’s dilemma of what to do with endless piles of oyster shells discarded after their meats have been harvested.

“Pacific Seafood is one of the West Coast’s largest seafood processors,” said Hargrove in a recent interview. “Up until now the only use for the shells has been by Washington state for nature trails. They looked at us like we were crazy when we told them we thought we could use them all. We’re talking about seven million or so tons of old oyster shells, piled up in heaps forty and fifty feet tall.”

So, while Hargrove has been building a nationwide network of catfish sales, including Whole Foods and other seafood purveyors, he and his oyster partners successfully completed the lengthy process necessary to receive Maryland’s first permit for importing non-native shells for restoration and aquaculture.

After the permit process to ensure the old and aged imported shells won’t create another invasive species problem, it appears the west coast trove will meet decades of need for replenishing, rebuilding and seeding the Bay’s oyster bars. “The big deal for the permitting was the fact that these west coast shells are domestic and not foreign,” said Hargrove.

When weather isn’t hampering catfish and oyster harvesting, as ice is doing now, Hargrove’s operations handle 100,000 pounds of fresh catfish filets and 1,000 bushels of oysters per week.

He employs 30 people in processing and about 70 watermen who harvest the oysters and catfish.

 “It’s a lot of responsibility and requires lots of capital,” said Hargrove.

“Ice in the upper Chesapeake is keeping our catfish watermen in and that’s hampering our production,” he said recently.  “We like to handle about 20,000 pounds of filets a day, but in weather like this we’re lucky to get 20,000 pounds a week. Demand is exceeding our ability to supply, but that goes with this business. There will always be ups and downs.  We’ve learned to bob and weave.”

The juggling act is continuous: perfecting marketing and sales, creating new products like catfish nuggets, seeking legislation to further enhance catfish harvesting, and making plans for meeting spring and summer planting demands for oyster shells being trucked east.

 “Right now I’m working with Sen. Johnny Mautz on a bill that would allow electric-shock fishing for catfish,” said Hargrove.  “That would be particularly helpful for the summer when the fish aren’t as hungry.”

At the same time, he and his partners are figuring out how many oyster shells they will be able to sell to the state for this year’s demands. The state buys loads of bushels with attached spat–baby, tick-sized oysters–as well as bare shells.

Bare shells are deployed to help rebuild oyster bars with material that attracts naturally occurring oyster spat in the Bay’s waters. Spa- on-shell are used to seed sanctuary, public fishery and leased aquaculture bottom where proper substrate, also known as cultch, already exists.

Chris Judy, director of Maryland’s shellfish division, said the west coast oyster shells–of the crassostrea gigas species–are proving effective at attracting spat. “They have been properly assessed and approved, and have the added advantage of being less expensive than shell bought from Virginia. Even being shipped all the way across the country they are still less expensive than the shells from Virginia,” said Judy.

He said west coast gigas shells, as well as crushed concrete and rocks, have been tested by University of Maryland’s Horn Point Laboratory in Dorchester County as possible alternatives to the native crassostrea virginica oyster shells typically used for restoration. Because of demand up and down the Chesapeake, in Maryland and Virginia for restoration projects, native shells–recycled after harvesting and shucking–are in short supply.

In laboratory conditions, the gigas shells proved the most effective of all the alternatives at attracting spat.  They even proved more effective than native shells included as part of the test.

“That was in laboratory conditions,” said Judy. “In the Bay waters, in more variable conditions, the gigas shells performed better than native shells in some areas, equal to them in other areas, and not as well in some areas.

“We deployed about 89,000 bushels of gigas shells last May and June–just shells–in places like Tangier Sound, Honga River and Harris Creek to improve the oyster bars, the spat set and to enhance the industry,” said Judy. “When we checked on them again in the fall, we found they had worked well.  A favorable spat set. They do the job, as do the other alternatives, but these are more cost effective. Concrete and rocks also work as a substrate for catching spat, but they are more expensive.”

Hot-off-the-press printed materials developed by Tilghman Island Seafood are helping build nation-wide sales of Chesapeake Bay catfish

The gigas shells, said Judy, will be a “major contribution” to what is already being accomplished in Maryland’s oyster restoration efforts.

Over the next two months, Judy said the shellfish division will be contacting various county oyster committee officials to determine their preferences for where in 2025 they would like bare oyster shells and spat-on-shell planted. Those discussions will also include what kind of shells would be preferred.

Between federal funds, state capital funds, sanctuary funds, bushel taxes, oyster export taxes and surcharge fees paid by watermen for oystering licenses, the state has millions of dollars to spend over the next few years for planting bare shells, seeding with spat on shell, and other restoration efforts.

That is in addition to other efforts such as Oyster Restoration Partnership initiatives which included hundreds of millions of spat on shell deployed in  2024.

Judy said that given the attractiveness of the West Coast gigas shells supply and their cost effectiveness, the amount the shellfish division buys this year will be up to how much Hargrove wants to sell and the amount funding will allow. He said that includes bare shells and spat-on-shell for public fishery bars, and for whatever may be available for the state’s oyster sanctuaries.

Hargrove said he sees the gigas shells as a game changer.  “We received our permit to use the shells in August of 2022. In 2023 we deployed about 100,000 bushels of spat-on-shell, and 180,000 bushels in 2024.  That’s for public and private ground seeding efforts. We deployed more spat-on-shell bushels on private grounds than on public grounds and that’s a first.” They also deployed hundreds of thousands of bushels of bare gigas shells for bottom restoration purposes.

Hargrove said he used a pen and the back of a napkin to design the oyster-tanks-and-cages system he uses for his spat-on-shell operation at the Tilghman Island Seafood complex.

Using larvae purchased from oyster hatcheries like Horn Point, near Cambridge, and Ferry Cove, near Tilghman, he blends them into cages filled with about 30 bushels of oyster shells in tanks pumped full of  Bay water from Knapps Narrows.

The larvae take about two weeks to attach to the bare shells.  “When the spat are about the size of a tick on the shells, we lift the cages out of the tanks and transport them to a hopper and conveyor belt.  We load them on the decks of buy boats we use to take them to the bars designated by the different state and county entities.

“We’re getting the resources we need,” said Hargrove, “and the industry is starting to grow. Now we have access to the shells we need, access to all the larvae we need for spat–Ferry Cove is doing a helluva job–and we have the capacity to exceed the state’s needs and handle private aquaculture needs as well. Plus, we can do it cheaper than buying from Virginia and keep all the money in Maryland instead.”

Judy said results from the annual statewide fall oyster survey in October will be released in March.  “Generally speaking, the Bay received a spat set, and the survival rate was good.  The spat from the tremendous, widely distributed set we saw in 2023 are growing now to smalls.  That’s all positive news.”

Nick Hargrove provided this image of a small portion of the West Coast treasure trove of discarded and aged oyster shells now filling a missing link in the Chesapeake oyster restoration initiative. The heaps of shells, like ancient Native American middens, are located on Pacific Seafood’s property in Washington state.

Dennis Forney has been a publisher, journalist, and columnist on the Delmarva Peninsula since 1972.  He writes from his home on Grace Creek in Bozman.