Shellfish Farming and Commercial Fishing - Rob Krause

Nov 17, 2009

Rob Krause, Ninigret Oyster Farm, Charlestown, Rhode Island

Rob has had his own oyster lease for about 5 years now, and has seen steady growth during that time.  He has fished commercially, and continues to do so part time, which was one reason I gave him a call: in Maine, many of the recent entrants into the shellfish aquaculture industry either come from the commercial fishing industry, or they are doing both.  This transition is a really interesting one, and I was curious to hear Rob's take on things.

Rob says that the production from his shellfish farm allows for a relatively steady and predictable income. This is in contrast to the fishing that he does, and even though he'd like to fish more (for example, potting for black sea bass), he finds a nice balance between the two activities, and for him, the industries complement one another.  He's sort of a fisherman with an aquaculture habit.  Or the other way around, it's hard to tell.  Anyway, his operation uses a combination of bottom growing and raft culture (nursery and staging for shipment) in his business, and business appears to be good.

He likes being a price maker rather than a price taker, like many other oysters growers, and it's a little grating some times when he sees product dumped on the market at really low prices. The care he takes in growing a top-quality product has paid off, and he'd like to keep it that was.

As for reactions from other fishermen in the area, he acknowledges that there is some friction, and that loss of fishable bottom has been an issue to some of the guys he talks with. At the same time, he's gotten a fair number of inquiries from other fishermen about his business, and the aquaculture industry.  These guys don't particularly want others to know that they are making the inquiries - which tells you something about the state of affairs generally - but the questions are asked nonetheless.  He estimates that about 2/3 of the state's 30-some shellfish farms are run by folks who have a fishing background, or who still fish commercially as well. Most of these are younger guys, who seem to be a bit more open about the possibilities of shellfish culture as a marine enterprise.

We got talking about the differences between fishing and farming, such as the fact that fishing usually results more or less in an immediate return - you go fishing and you come home with fish - whereas with farming, you have realize that the payday is down the road a piece.   He sees this firsthand for sure, but also says that watching his oysters grow has been helpful in that regard, and that others would probably feel the same way.  It's a little easier to take, knowing that your seed oysters have grown; you develop a kind of relationship with them.  Having said that, he's not expecting a boom in fishermen becoming shellfish growers any time in the near future; it's just too different and difficult a business. 

He and several other shellfish growers have joined forces to create a co-op, and he sees real benefit in this group.  "It's an aquaculture think tank" is what he says, and instead of being competitors, is a forum for sharing ideas and trying things out.  It also really helps in sharing the costs for becoming a Certified Shellfish Dealer, and he figures it is saving him about $1200 a year. 

To get in touch with Rob, drop him a line a ninigretoysters@cox.net. or give a little Google on Ninigret Oyster Farm; though he does not have his own website, there is information on various pages on the web that will be useful.

Nice talking with you, Rob!

Les Iles de la Madeleine: Scallops, French Practice, Local Beer and the Perfect Seashore

A visit to Les Iles: 
First of all, before I go on too far, I have to say that the Isles de la Madeleine (aka the Magdalene Islands) rate very high on my list of places to return to. Beauty, great food, wonderful scenery, music and some really excellent local beer make this a place not to be missed. Did I mention the food? People were very friendly, but you'll do well to dust off your French to the best extent possible - English is spoken, but not everywhere, and the attempt to speak in the native tongue is appreciated.

While at dinner one day, my wife and I had a conversation with a gentleman retired from the soap industry, of all things. Back in the 60's, he said that the Isles were principally English-speaking, but subsequently the provincial government made French the official language, which meant that's what was taught in schools, in the workplace, and the like. However, given the Anglo influence prior to that, you can run into people with mixed names, like Philippe Smith.

The beaches are what really make the place stand out. 50 miles out into the Gulf of St. Lawrence, the Magdalenes are an island world, and even from the highest viewpoints, all you see are the ocean, Ile d'Entree, Ile Brion, and a few other biggish rocks. PEI is 4 and a half hours by to the South, and Newfoundland not that much further to the East. If you could see the whole distance to the North, you would see the wilds of Anticosti Island, and beyond that, the Eastern portion of Quebec Province. You do get views of Cape Breton every now and then.

Getting there: After the International Conference on Shellfish Restoration (Charlottetown, PEI) Riley and I took the road out to Souris and readied ourselves for the long ferry ride to Cap aux Meules. The ride itself was very comfortable, and when Isle d'Entree rose out of the fog, we knew we were in for something unusual - it looked straight out of a movie, and we wondered if we had accidently wandered into a King Kong flick.

I was there to make two stops in particular, with Madeleine Nadeau, and with Melanie Bourgeois. Madeleine is a staff scientist with the Ministere de l'Agriculture, des Pecheries et de l'Alimentation du Quebec (MAPAQ), and has worked for many years with fishermen and aquaculturists on the stock enhancement and aquaculture of sea scallops. Melanie is the Research Coordinator for Culti-Mer, an aquaculture firm based just north of Cap-aux-Meules. The Culti-Mer offices and plant lies along the lagoon that forms much of the interior on Havre-aux-Maisons Island, and the lagoons on the Isles are stories unto themselves, for shellfish enthusiasts and kite-surfers alike.

Mélanie Bourgeois - in the processing plant at Culti-Mer.  She's a great hostess,  very knowledgeable, and has a terrific singing voice, especially for the rowdy Quebecois shanties!

My first stop was with Melanie, and one of the first things that caught my eye was a very nice poster of half-shell princess scallops. Well, they had some right in the freezer, and they looked very fine indeed: a dozen whole scallops on the half shell, about 75 mm shell height, with the roe included. Melanie said they are currently using 6 males and 6 females in each package. Unlike in Maine, where scallops will ripen in June/July and also in January-March, they only have one summertime ripening season.

                     Scallops vacuum packed for sale, out of the retail store on the islands....

Their business grew out of the many years that work had gone on between fishermen and scientists, beginning in the 1980's, to examine the feasibility of both aquaculture and wild stock enhancement. Over the years, they'd identified good spat collection sites, handling techniques and equipment, nursery and growout practices, processing and economic assessments. However, it was hard to demonstrate an acceptable level of survival and returned catch to the fishing industry, and over time, the stock enhancement work slowed. On the other hand, a substantial body of knowledge and personal expertise had been developed, and Culti-Mer grew partly because of those assets. One such expert is Sylvain Vigneault, who is the President and General Director of the company, and who has travelled many places and tried many things in his pursuit of a vibrant scallop culture operation.

The company uses a modified longline system for deploying its' roughly 10,000 spat collectors, setting it out in September and retrieving it the following August and September. The longline keeps the collectors in the bottom third of the water column, and securely anchored against storms and surge. Catches usually range between 1000 and 2000 spat per bag, though variations happen from year to year. The bags also manage to catch a lot of mussel seed, and rock borer clams (Hyatella arctica), which then necessitated a handling system.

The longlines themselves are built mostly in the shore facility, where they have a very efficient assembly line. Bags are attached to the longline with hog rings, both at the bottom and the top, with two bags set opposite each other. There is a little slack allowed in the bag, which prevents tearing when strain is applied to the longline itself. Once the strings are put together, they are then set into a wooden frame. A heavy cement weight is set atop the pile of bags and line, compressing it. The whole thing is then tied up like a gift box, so that it will take minimal space aboard the vessel. Ingenious.

Not a great picture of the spat bags, but....hog ringed at top and bottom, two bags set opposite to one another, a little slack in the bags to allow for movement. 

The other ingenious device I saw (though these are inventive folks through and through, like fishermen and farmers everywhere), was the scallop seed sorter. They have a small one (for sale if you're interested), but they quickly outgrew that one and now have a big honkin' one right in the processing plant. The bed of the sorter sits at the surface of a water tank, and moves in a circular pattern, in and out of the water. It also has alternating panels of holes and slots, so that as the bed moves, the shellfish are moved forward over the panels. Mussels and rock borers fall through the panels with holes, and scallops slide through the panels with slots. Hole size and slot width increase along the bed, and I have to say, it works astonishingly well; the waste has almost not a single scallop in it, and the reverse is true for the scallop catch - pretty much all scallop with nary a mussel.

They also have a two sets of 'Netron beaters' (my words) that flail the collector stuffing and make the scallops fall off into a reservoir. I can say from personal experience that this alone would save a huge amount of work, because uncoiling and shaking Netron out is a time consuming process.

Now having sorted seed, Culti-Mer has been working with lantern and pearl nets. They tried bottom culture, but the return was not steady or high enough to warrant sticking with that method. They also do a small amount of ear hanging, but the machine they bought from a Canadian supplier (the machine itself is made in Japan) turned out to be very finicky, and to be temperamental in - of all things - humid conditions. The scallops grown by ear hanging are also not well suited to the half shell market, due to the fouling that grows on the shells and the subsequent cleaning needed, so they use ear hanging to produce meats.

This confirmed for me that they were pursuing a strategy of offering a diversified product line: they sell seed to St. Pierre and Miquelon (officially part of France, just to the south o Newfoundland, so bring your passport), and to growers elsewhere in the Maritimes, and they sell fresh and frozen half-shell scallops, and fresh and frozen meats.

Sorting of market-sized individuals is done by a drum sorter, which they line with polyethylene sheeting; this reduces damage to the shells. Then, off they go to the shucking line at Fruit de Mer Madeline, Inc. for packaging in vacuum packs for the half-shell product.  They also will hold scallops in tanks for sale to the live market.  Sales of whole or half-shell scallops continues year round, and they work with the Quebec company Pec-Nord for their marketing and distribution in Canada, USA and countries in Europe.

Overall, this is an energetic group of professionals. They do some work with softshell clams and other species, but scallops are where their passions seem to lie.

In our spare time, we did a little driving around (the main group of islands is only about 50 miles end to end, and spent some time in the Microbrasserie À l'abri de la Tempête, a great little microbrewery with fantastic views, real atmosphere, and some delicious beer. We even got to mangle our French a bunch with the guy behind the counter. I think his English was probably better than my French, but he kindly worked hard to understand us, and let us knock the rust off. The other place you have to have to have to go, is the creperie in Havre-aux-Maisons, though there are lots of foody places to check out. Not enough time!!

So, on a sunny day with the everpresent breeze ruffling our hair, and with regret, we packed our bags and headed home, determined to return – sooner rather than later.

Musings from Gottingen Street: Fried Mussels

Aug 27, 2009

I am working at the Halifax Public Library on Gottingen Street this morning, although it's too bad, because it's a fine day outside; clear and cool, with a light breeze.  Nothing like yesterday during the afternoon and evening - it was near dungeon fog all the way down from Cape Breton pretty much, and I missed many miles of coastline in the grey unbroken.  Still, it was a nice drive, with plenty of turns in the road to keep me occupied. 

One thing that caught my eye yesterday was seeing little hand-painted signs along Marine Drive, Burma Shave - style, advertising lots of good fried foods at the approaching Trail Restaurant.  Although the signs weren't particularly unusual, one of them said 'Fried Clams and Mussels' and this one definitely was an attention-getter.  It was the 'fried mussels' part of the sign, since I've been wanting to try a fried mussel for several years.  I'd been introduced to the concept by Babe Stanley, a fisherman and erstwhile shellfish grower I'd met a while back, while we worked on his idea for a submersible mussel raft.  The mussel raft project was a modest success and deserves further attention, but the notion of fried mussels has been stuck in my brain ever since.

As it happened, Babe has been in the seafood industry for quite some time, and he brought up his fried mussels many a time, as we worked together on the model raft in the tow tank up in Orono.  He'd steam the mussels a bit to get the shells to open, shuck out the meats, and then fry them up in his own special batter recipe.  He said they were just delicious, and I certainly believed him.  According to the story, everything was going on splendidly in the fried mussel trade until he was tripped up by bureaucracy.  It seems that he was calling his lovely little inventions 'Blue Oysters', and the use of the word 'oyster' was a no-no - misleading the customer and what-not.  So, that turned out to be the end of that particular endeavor.

Now, when we flash forward to the present day, I've often thought that the seafood-consuming populace had matured enough so that the notion of a fried mussel might be a going concern.  No longer are mussels thought of as trash; fit only for the very poor or for bait to catch something worthwhile.  Mussels can be found on the menu of white tablecloth restaurants the world over.  Mostly however, they are steamed and offered with some sort of sauce; curry, wine and butter, butter and more butter, oil and pepper, and the etcetera list goes on.  Occasionally you can find a place that will actually serve them naked, and you can choose the dip you like, though a steamed mussel all by its lonesome is a delicious thing anyway, a delicate taste and just the right size mouthful.

I had to stop at this place, and so I did, there to chat up the owners.  Well - they were out of mussels; their harvester had not brought any to them lately.  Mostly, they get them wild harvested, but sometimes ranched as well.  They were short on clams too, and so it ended up being a Reuben-style hot dog for me.  Rueben halfway down and not bad at all, and lo and behold, there was one last order of mussels!  These were plump and obviously farm raised, so into the batter and then the fryer they went.  The owners noted that it's easy to steam them lightly first, then freeze the meats.  They get a very brief microwave thaw, then batter fried, and off you go.  So, if you've got a decent stock of fresh mussels but not enough market at the moment, you can put them by and keep them in good shape till the customers show up. 

Now, I'm a crispy-batter sort of guy - for fried clams, onion rings, and all that other good stuff.  Tempura is right up my alley, and some of the best fried clams I've ever had have been at Gritty McDuffs in Freeport, ME.   So, if you've had Gritty clams (note the capital G there, folks), then you'll know just what I'm on about. 

Having admitted to that, the mussels were very nice indeed - just the right size, and the batter did not cover up the taste of the mussel too much at all.  I asked the owners if this product was popular and they allowed that it was.  They'd seen other restaurants offer fried mussels, but only sporadically.  They then told me that some Japanese tourists had come by a couple of years ago, and being very familiar with seafood - what respectable Japanese person isn't? - they had to try the mussels.  They reportedly commented that their previous understanding was that the champion blue mussel growers and chefs were the Dutch, but that these fried little babies left them in the proverbial dust.  So, I left the shop with a story, a full stomach, new acquaintances, and a new experience. 

It was funny enough, having had a discussion two nights previously with Charles Purdy about the lack of value-added products in the shellfish industry (Atlantic Canada and the NE US, both), that here was one item that might just fit into this category.  It could be great for wild harvesters and for bottom culture operations together, and maybe even suspension growers.  I do wonder if suspension-grown mussels would fit into this on the basis of the price to the consumer, given the extra cost in raising them, but I guess that's for the individual businesses to figure out, isn't it?  It would be a good thing to diversify the products offered by Maine growers, harvesters and seafood businesses.

My take-away thoughts, as I drove away southwest down the foggy outer shore of Nova Scotia was why nobody in Maine is test marketing a fried mussel?  Seems like a market opportunity to me - and a potential fine future excuse for trying out more roadside food. 

Aug 26, 2009

Ron Boudreau and Rodney Fougere, of Sea Perfect Cultivated Products, are excited about scallops.  Kindred spirits, there.  I've been corresponding with Ron for a few years now off and on, having been introduced to him by Leslie-Anne Davidson of DFO, and having checked out his projects on spat collection and bottom fencing, via the literature.  What a treat to finally meet him and Rodney, and what a beautiful place to do it in.  If you have never been to Cape Breton, then make some time and go.  I imagine that it'd be breezy and bumpy in the wintertime, but on this August day, windy and grey overhead as it was, it's an idyllic setting. 

Ron Boudreau (left) and Rodney Fougère

Cape Breton's southwest shore is littered with islands and intervening waterways, and doubtlessly would make a great cruising destination.  Seemingly every back yard has a boat on stands, and the communities are like postcards; the villages seemingly lean down toward the waterfronts, hunching themselves under the wind. These are places where people are yet dependent upon one another, and the word 'community' still has real meaning. 

So, do yourself a favor, and make the trip some day.  You'll be glad you did; I was, and I didn't even have time to sit in a pub and listen to the music that the Cape is famous for!

Anyway.  There I was, and and up drives Rodney's father, just to make sure that I wasn't sitting there too long by myself, and to provide a little company since the boys are running a few minutes behind.  I told you the folks there are nice.  Then, Ron and Rodney drive up, we do introductions all around, and I say goodbye to Rodney's dad, who has to take off.

In we go to the space that the local fish plant lets them use. There is a big reservoir system for lobster, with a spat collector or two floating, a few lantern nets and some lobster crates with 3"+ scallops in them.  'So, do you want to try a scallop?' says Ron.  "Well, I'd love to eat about the whole box of 'em" say I, and they both laugh.  Out comes the knife, and before you can say Placopecten, I've eaten 6 or 7 meats - firm and sweet and absolutely delicious.  Ron tells me that on their site, scallops grow 2 inches a year, so these were stocked at about 1", after coming out of the collectors, and then grown for about 18 months.  The shells have a hard check at the point they came out of the collectors, then smooth thereafter, so they had a good life in the intervening time.  He says they put about 20 scallops per level of the lantern, and then never touch them again until harvest.  This is a pretty solid indicator of a good site. 

They also show me a scallop seed grader there in the shop, built in New Brunswick. It has a series of flat trays that travel a circular path, raising and lowering in and out of a water bath.  Half the trays trays have holes for undesirable shellfish to fall through (mussels and rock borers, mostly), the other half have bars spaced closely together to allow the scallops to fall through sideways.  They can grade out 3 sizes of scallops with this, and it works like a house afire.  We did not discuss price of the machine, but the scallops that come out of the grading process are as nice and clean as can be, and uniformly sized.

Seed grader in the shop; with holding tank and feeder on the left side of the grader

Top view of the moving table in the grader.  Scallops are graded via the bars (by thickness) and the other shellfish are sorted out through the panels with holes.  Works great - this was a smaller version of the grader I'd see in the Magdalenes later in the summer. 

Off then we went to their waterfront workshop across the harbor, just behind their site.  There, they had a grader for mature scallops, which can produce 7 different size grades.  The tube is made of SDR pipe with holes cut into it, and the whole shebang driven by a small electric motor.  They say that 7 grades is too many, and that 3 is better, so they combine some of the grades together. 

Drum grader for mature scallops.

Their site, which is nearly a stone's throw close to the shore, deep in a sheltered cove, is 70 feet deep, and their collectors and growout gear are held at about 40 feet, to reduce fouling.  They've tried a bunch of different things; lanterns, pearl nets, Savory cages, homemade designs, Mexican trays, and they are convinced that a biggish plastic tray is the answer, to reduce labor and to increase efficiency in growth.  A plan is cooking to develop a mold that will fill the bill.  

Meantime, they produce seed at an amazing rate, since they average 10,000 spat per collector, and they've got at least 4,000 collectors out there.  Having had some trials and errors in their past (and who hasn't?), they are quite optimistic about the future, both for seed sales and for growout.  Most of their seed now goes to St. Pierre and Miquelon, but they've got some customers in the Maritimes as well.  Recognizing that seed and growout are two vastly different operations and businesses, they're looking forward to progress on both fronts.  Ten years of experiences so far, and they are more enthusiastic than ever.  Bravo, Gentlemen, bon travail et bon chance!

Bay Enterprises Limited - Malagash Bay, NS

August 24 and 25, 2009

Driving up through Nova Scotia takes a long time, but it certainly is worth it. In Maine, we have a nice confluence of earth, water and sky, but it seems even more so here, north of the border between Amherst and Antigonish. I pass by farms and fields, none of which have a rock bigger than a softball in them. Amazing, in contrast to much of New England.

'Antigonish' is pronounced with the principal accent on the last syllable...'ish' and the secondary accent on the first. An-tig-on-ISH, but the locals, who have had a little practise at this sort of thing, run it all together smoothly so it comes out sounding like AN-na-gon-NISH. So, I fell into that pronunciation trap, and sounded like a rube right off the bat. Regardless of language foul-ups, I travelled yesterday to Malagash Bay, to meet with Charles Purdy, of Bay Enterprises, Ltd. and his wife, Nancy.

Charles is one of those guys - the ones who can make or repair anything (he's even trained the local crows and ravens to eat green crabs, and the photo of him above is about a woodburning unit he will use to drive a combustion engine, by capturing unburned vapors), who have a restless brain, and who take a creative approach to everything. Charles and Nancy have been operating this shellfish farm for over 15 years, and before that, had worked on the family farm, operated a sawmill, and even owned a store. Nonetheless, shellfish growing seems to have taken deep root, and they have invested time, energy and money into this growing business, a business that now includes the next generation in their daughter Rachel. Even Rachel's kids are on the farm many days, so it truly is a family enterprise.

***Charles Purdy, with a tractor he imported from Belorussia, one of his former endeavors.  The guy can do anything.  On his farm, he's able to use the tractor on the flats in front of his house, something that would be unthinkable in Maine.






The lease they work, or at least part of it, was originally owned by Charles' great-great grandfather, so a historical context is only a memory away. Today, the group operates two tracts of about 400 acres total, in Malagash Bay. They grow Eastern oysters, European oysters, hard clams, and a few bay scallops. It's extensive culture for the most part, with a steady natural set that they help along by working the shell beds, and which they are building upon with a hatchery.

*** I'm sorry to say that I can't recall the names of these two students who'd worked in the hatchery: Charles spoke very highly of both of them.




Their shellfish travels all across Canada and into the US, and they have sold into the EU a bit as well, although rules for importing shellfish into the European Union have made it difficult. The events of Sept. 11th also changed things for importing into the US as well, and has curtailed a fair bit of their shipments to the States.

Coming from Maine, it seemed that the water in the inner part of Malagash Bay was incredibly warm. It can reach over 28 deg C with not too much difficulty, and the warmest that Charles has recorded is 33 deg C. On the other hand, he's also measured 28 inches of ice in the dark of winter, so there are extremes to contend with.

Some of the relevant aspects of his business include the following:

- Bay Enterprises Ltd. (BEL) oysters take 4 to 5 years to reach market size.

- Two natural spawns occur, in June and early September. Sets can be a blessing and a curse, providing free spat, but overlaying market sized oysters too.

- Oysters beds are worked; to prune the shells, to break down clumps, and to reduce silt loads.

- He has worked hard to develop an escalator dredge for harvesting his oysters and hard clams, a dredge that he built in collaboration with a colleague at the Othniel Oyster Co., Poole, UK (http://www.othniel.com/) having visited Europe to learn about the industry there.

- There are few inshore uses to compete with, in terms of fisheries, but there is some recreational boating, and some shoreline development that has provided occasional opposition.

- There are few other shellfish growers in the immediate region, and he's the only one who makes all his income off of his farm.

- Quality is a top priority for him, and he sees benefit in holding to his price.

- Sharing information is something he sees a need for as growers talk with one another, both within his province and outside of it, including the E. Coast of the US. With so much of the seafood business being tied between the two countries, he sees no need to start a price war or drop quality to sell more product.

- Notata strain hard clams did not do well in his area; they tried to feed at such low temperatures, that the lack of food during that time caused them to lose too much energy. His local strain of hard clams has a better time of shutting off at 4-5 deg C, and can stay dormant during times of low food availability. He's had better luck with these since he's been doing his own selective breeding.

- Hatchery production of flat oysters mimics the natural set, so his hatchery was operational during my visit. He is working on an overwintering system that will provide some feed to his flat oysters during their first winter.

- Those who have visited or operated shellfish hatcheries will be surprised to visit the BEL hatchery. His place is a jumble of equipment, although maybe that's not the surprising part. However, he does only place a minimum of attention on things like maintaining precisely axenic cultures, or feed rationing. On the other hand, it works really well for him, and he's quite happy with the results. In addition, he's gotten some great students to work for him, and they've added a lot to the effectiveness of the hatchery operation.
 

On the night I arrived, he took a call that an old friend and colleague in the aquaculture business had died, so he took an early exit the next day, to travel to the funeral in Halifax. He was kind enough to let me help out a bit on the escalator dredge in his absence though, which was an education in itself. It moves a lot of water, and a lot of shells, and takes a skilled hand to operate efficiently.

Even abbreviated as it was, my visit with Charles and his family really was an enjoyable and educational one. He's a wealth of knowledge, with an "I can do it myself" approach to just about everything.

Incidentally, while I was there, I made a detour to the Jost Vineyard, which is just up the road a few miles from his farm. The wines are fantastic, which made the trip even better.

***This is the escalator dredge.  The main components include the spray head and conveyor belt; the engine to drive the water pump and hydraulics, and the outboard for propulsion.  Operating this device takes a watchful eye; while it can more a huge amount of shellfish in a short time, it's a bit finicky, and takes a combination of speed, direction and bottom contact to get into the sweet spot.

Boucouche and Richibucto in the Good Ol' Summah-

Tuesday, July 28, 2009
I'm up in the Bouctouche Bay area of New Brunswick, and I couldn't be happier.  The whole region is ridiculously bucolic, and the weather is absolutely fine.  I'm on the road, about to meet new people, renew an old acquaintance, and have some sort of adventure in the aquaculture world.  Yeah, life is good.

The day starts with a little driving tour around Bouctouche, going nowhere in particular, just getting the lay of the land and trying not to get in an accident as I look one way and then the other.  Yes, I had another Tim Horton's coffee, and maybe even two.

Just past the bridge that had wooden decking still on it (there's a throwback!) I come across a little green street sign: "Avenue des Huitres."  I have to stop.  Down the short road is a shop, and in the shop are three or four guys working on shellfish bags.  The owner was not there, but apparently he is a former agricultural biologist, who has started an oyster farm, and who has been in business for a while now, so let's hear it for second and third acts in life.

***When you see a road named 'Avenue Des Huitres,' and you are somebody interested in oysters, you take it.








 
Next, one brief new meeting into the day, I'm headed up the road, to my scheduled meeting.  On the way though, the sun is still shining, and Bouctouche Bay stretches right out along the road and I can see the 11-km-long Bouctouche Dune (mind you, most of Canada's shoreline in this region is much more accessible and viewable than in Maine, a welcome turn of events) and there is a group of farms in the nearshore, and I pull up into a parking lot next to a guy who obviously works there, and I say hello, and he says hello back, and pretty soon we're talking oysters.

My new acquaintance started an oyster farm in the early 90's and now works with his son, who operates the business.  He has several hundred OysterGro cages (more on that below), and is planning expansion, noting that new space is a little difficult to get.  He uses OysterGro primarily because it works well against oyster overset, which, as it turns out, is a huge problem locally.  He says the OG system is expensive, but also that it does grow a nice oyster, and also that his are the best. He sells at 2.5" and 3" generally, and it takes about 3 years to reach 3".  Said he gets about 28 cents for the 2.5" and about 38 cents for the 3".  Above that is the Commercial grade, but there is not much call for them.

In case you ever doubted that farmers take real and deep pride in their work and the products they grow, talk to an oyster grower: all will tell you that they grow the best one, an aspect I love about this industry.

That done, and two conversations into this new morning, I continued on my way to Bouctouche Bay Industries, to meet with Rheal Savoie, whom I'd met before a couple of times, and who was the main reason I'd come this way.

Rheal is an affable businessman, and like so many people successful in the business world, seems to handle the constant concerns, obstacles and decisionmaking with ease and a certain joie de vivre - this guy really likes what he does.  He spent many years working in government, but had an itch to strike out on his own, and he's still hard at it.

Rheal has been working to supply the aquaculture and fishing industry for some years; floats, traps, wire, etc.  However, it's the Oyster-Gro system that seems to have put him on the aquaculture map down here in the states as of late.  The system (www.oystergro.com) uses a wire cage with robust plastic floats as a way to get around excessive fouling and heavy winter ice, while giving the oysters access to warm surface temperatures, good food availability, and an easy approach to maintenance.  Whether it works for oyster growers down here is unknown, but that's part of the process, and there are folks trying it out in Maine and elsewhere.

** An oyster farm that uses Oyster Gro units, in operation.  The paired buoys are part of one unit, in the submerged position - the cages (background) are in the exposed position.  Two workers stand in a basket hung from the boat; they are half in the water, making it easier to flip the cages, giving them a shake to even out the oysters.

Rheal took me through his factory, where he manufactures styrofoam floats (very cool to watch!), puts together the wire and shellfish bag components for OysterGro, and then to another part of the plant where they do injection molding for various plastic items.

Following that, we went to a farm owned by Armand King (he's on the OG video on Rheal's web site) and out to the farms in Bouctouche Bay.  We looked at farms with several hundred OG systems, and Armand's farm has 8 million oysters in various stages of growth.

***The man himself.  Rheal Savoie and one of his OysterGro cages, Bouctouche Bay, NB, Canada.










All production in the region starts with spat collection, mostly on 'chinese hats' or plastic drain tile.  The mixture to cover the collectors is one part sand, one part cement, one part lime, mixed with water to a thin consistency.  We also tried a couple of oysters at Armand's; they had just spawned so they were kind of thin, but still had a nice brine taste and excellent shape.

Other notes:
Putting a smaller oyster on the market makes sense up here because of the long growth cycle, but also they think that smaller oysters, still with a decent cup, make it easier for new oyster consumers to get started, and not so difficult as trying out a really big oyster.  So, it cuts their production time and serves as a market development strategy.  Oyster growing season starts in April or May, as soon as ice is out - the oysters start to grow, then put on about 75% of their growth before June.  Then, they start to ripen for spawning, and that takes out some of the potential shell growth.  Growers up here have also learned to work their oysters (i.e. grading) in the water during the early spring, so as not to knock off the new, paper-thin shell.  This, as opposed to using a tumble-type grader.

Some fishermen have become aquaculturists, but the aq industry in the region is still maturing.  The OysterGro seems to be helping, in terms of profitability; oyster tables don't work because of the overset, floating bags didn't work well enough, and bottom seeding is next to impossible because of the long growth cycle, like 7 years.  So, even though the industry has been around for several years, this system seems to have made a difference, and there are thousands of cages in use in the region.  Meantime, though there are some fishermen who have become growers, it's not enough success yet to have really driven a lot of guys into this industry.

As for competition for space between fishermen and shellfish growers: There is little other use of the coastal waters.  No inshore lobstering, no dragging for scallops or urchins, or clam digging, and there are relatively few houses in the area.  So, they have much less competition for space than in Maine - makes it somewhat easier for a grower to find lease area.  Water temps reach 23 or 24 deg C, maybe a little warmer, so perhaps slightly higher than in ME.

Lastly, a reminder that this region makes a great getaway place, whether you are packing the family into the car for a vacation, or you want to do some directed agro-tourism, or you just want to put your feet into seawater that doesn't freeze your skin off.  While I suspect that winters put the most hardy to the test up here, summer sure feels good.

And away we go! Moncton to Baie de Chaleur: A little Scallop Refresher, and oysters on strings-

July 6th

Okay, I'm off! First trip of my sabbatical, and I'm headed to Moncton, NB, to visit with two colleagues at DFO: Leslie-Anne Davidson, and Monique Niles. Leslie-Anne and Monique have been working on various aspects of the scallop fishery up there for many years, and have been to Maine a few times as well. I'm looking forward to catching up with them.

This first time up, I'm headed through Houlton into NB, and eventually stop in Fredericton, the provincial capital. It's a scenic enough drive, as anyone who has travelled the more northerly sections of Maine will know; miles of spruce trees, wide farmlands, and lots of water. There is entirely too much stream and river territory to think about fishing all of it, but a guy can dream, can't he?

So, after a night at a hostel in Fredericton, I'm headed west to Moncton, and to the DFO offices. Moncton is a small city, situated on the Peticodiac River, and about 15 miles south of the shores of the Northumberland Strait. The river itself is also referred to locally as the Chocolate River, because of its banks; a smooth, reddish-brown mud that belies the geology of the entire region and looks like, well....chocolate. No kidding - from a ways off, it looks edible. Anyway, the City has plenty of good shops for dining and shopping, it's really clean, and - as everywhere in Canada - Tim Horton's is just around every corner. With Wi-Fi, no less, which makes it convenient.

Oh yeah - virtually everyone in Canada is really nice.

Leslie-Anne and Monique fill me in on their work of recent years, some of which is review, some new. The thing that we in Maine and elsewhere know them for is their work in spat collection and stock enhancement. The PECTEN project ran for several years, in three principal areas: Baie de Chaleur, Miramichi and in the Northumberland Strait. The project was a collaboration between industry and science, and is still active to a degree with the Maritime Fishermens Union.

Collections in some areas were regularly over 1000 spat per bag, but not everywhere, so it was a long process of identifying consistent areas. They have developed a robust longline system to support their spat collectors, and part of this hinged on anchors - they finally hit on sections of railroad rail, with flukes welded to them. As for success, they used video surveys to assess standing stock, and they noted increases in the number of scallops per square meter in all sites, between 2001 and 2005. Densities were still relatively low, but the trend was there. For example, in the Chaleur site, scallop density was estimated as below 0.05 scallops per square meter in 2001, but that increased to more than 0.2 scallops/sq. meter by 2005. Given that scallops move, it's not possible to say exactly that the increase was due to enhancement alone, but since more than 70 million scallops were seeded to the bottom over the years, it seems like a reasonable guess.

Reaction by industry has apparently been mixed, with some groups thinking about continuing the work and what to do next, some deciding that the increase in standing stock was natural recruitment, and others who felt that the reseeding sites were wasted space and they'd rather have it for fishing area. This situation of differing opinion sounded quite familiar!

In any event, they and the industry members who have participated have developed a great deal of expertise in many different areas of collections, handling, reseeding and stock assessment. They've got a pretty slick setup (though I've only seen photos and movie clips) for their video assessment, and this appears to have been a useful tool for all involved. Rejeann Vienneau is the man to go to at DFO, for details on the camera system, GPS overlay, sled, and all that good stuff.

The scallop fishery up there runs from April through December; kinda hard to run scallop boats through the two or three feet of ice that forms up there in the wintertime. Numbers of fishermen are much, much lower than in Maine, and the NB coast is divided into several fishing areas, all of which have different seasons. There is no minimum shell height, but rather a meat count, which is agreed up on by industry. The meat count generally runs from about 32 to 52 per 500 grams, depending upon the area. Also, the fishery uses 3.25" rings in the drag (most of them Digby-style), and up to 20' of drag per boat.

Leslie-Anne and Monique repeat some things we'd learned earlier, but bear repeating. Don't seek to rehabilitate dead beds - start with beds that are at least productive, and try to enhance them. The bigger the seed you put down, the better; they've seeded with a 10mm seed on average, and in Maine, we can do better. Don't move seed on very cold or very warm days. Rotational management has had a bigger effect on production than has re-seeding, as a general rule. Expect some difficulties in getting rotational management implemented. Expect change to come slowly in the fishery, but keep working at it.

All of that seems to be coming true in Maine to date, although it's too early to tell what impact the newly-created closed areas will have.

We discussed aquaculture a little bit: also a process that's going to take years to unfold. They thought that there was a fair bit of chance for cultured and caught scallops to complement one another in the marketplace, and for scallop farms to help in reseeding local areas. I'm intrigued by those thoughts too. They've worked a bit with scallop farms throughout the whole region, and recognize that it's a tough business, with a whole different set of challenges to profitable operation. On the other hand, the PECTEN project, the REPERE Project in the Magdalene Islands (more on that later!) and other groups have really advanced the knowledge of collecting spat, moving and sorting it, and various husbandry and equipment techniques, such that the chances of efficiently growing scallops are increased. Again - it'll be a longish process, but you readers will be introduced to some scallop growers in a little bit, below.

With that, our meeting ended. However, Monique did need to see some colleagues about a new project, and I tagged along with her. Not only did I get a chance to see the Oyster Culture Museum in Caraquet (L'Éco-Musée de l'huître - http://ecomuseehuitre.com/), but I managed to get on to a mussel farm briefly and see part of an experiment growing oysters cemented to lines . Marcel Poirer is the owner of that enterprise.

Photo: L'Éco-Musée de l'huître - Caraquet, NB

**This museum and store is operated by the Dugas family, in Caraquet NB. It's got a great display of various aspects of oyster culture, and you can buy the product right there at the counter. Good fun, and probably a nice business combination**

***Here is a photo of the rack used in the glued-oyster experiment.  The rack holds several thousand, and is suspended from one of the mussel lines seen in the background.













Later that day, we visited Thomas Kenney in Stonehaven, in the Baie de Chaleur region. Thomas is a fisherman who got into shellfish culture a few years ago, primarily mussels. He got some heat from it from his fellow fishermen, most of whom were concerned with a loss of fishable bottom. Things seem to have worked out though, because he still has a good relationship with the guys he fishes with, and they support his diversification - at least to a degree. I think he's a lot like fishermen in Maine who have started to diversify into shellfish farming - funny how locations change, but the issues are often just the same.

***Here are a couple of boats in the Stonehaven basin.  Most of the lobster fishermen in this area haul their pots from the stern.