European Oysters at the Downeast Institute, Beals Island, Maine

The European oyster, flat oyster, belon, or mud oyster all refer to the bivalve Ostrea edulis, native to western Europe and introduced into Maine waters near Boothbay Harbor in 1949. Ask a true oyster gourmand and they will call it the best oyster available globally. Ask someone who's got some experience growing them, or working with them in the hatchery, and you'll get a mix of smiles, gritted teeth and a downright Eeyore gloom. In the oyster kingdom, flat oysters have to be most persnickety, mysterious and tantalizing variety out there.

The European industry has fallen (forgive me) flat, and the production from the East Coast of the US and Canada is not going to take the world over, despite tries from very inventive and persistent folks. Ditto for the west coast, and there are two main reasons for this. The first is that a parasite called Bonamia, which affects the hemocytes (blood cells) of the oyster, and is responsible for periodic die-offs of wild and cultured flat oysters: an intimidating enough obstacle. The second – and the reason for this post – is that they are often troublesome in the hatchery.

Some of the juvenile flat oysters produced at DEI. 

Chris Bartlett photo.

Many oyster species are broadcast spawners, meaning that sperm and eggs are released directly into the water, in hopes that the one finds and fertilizes the other. But oh no, that's not good enough for the flat oyster. They have to go and be different, to the point that the female holds on to the eggs, and allows them to be fertilized by sperm in the incoming water. Then, she even goes so far as to allow the embryos to develop for a while attached to her gills, before then ejecting them as free-swimming larvae. Added to this the complexity, is the life-cycle of Ostrea being a “protandric hermaphrodite.” That is, this oyster has the capacity to change its gender twice during a single season – spawning as a female, then changing to a male for a while, then back again! All this causes a lot of difficulty for the hatchery manager, who needs to reliably produce millions of oyster larvae to be financially solvent.

Meanwhile, there is a limited supply of flat oysters to meet the demand, and even though demand is not as large as for say, the Eastern oyster, it's a dedicated following, and there is money to be made for them's that can grow and market the right product.

Which brings me to the Downeast Institute (DEI), on Great Wass Island in the town of Beals, Maine; and the name says it. You come out hear, dear (they say 'heah' and 'deah' of course – music to my Mainer ears), and you have indeed arrived Down East.

Dr. Brian Beal oversees shellfish production and research at DEI; he's a professor at nearby University of Maine at Machias, and he's been working with shellfish for a few decades now. He and his staff, Hatchery Manager George Protopopescu and assistant Kyle Pepperman have been trying to get their flat oysters through full production for a couple of years, and have had decidedly mixed success. In 2009, they had a good run, producing 100,000 juveniles, but since then have had little joy.

The main problem is in the larval phase; that roughly two-week period of time when the larvae have left the female, and are being fed and cared for by the hatchery. Worms and other animals that hitchhike on the shells of the adults end up spawning as well and their tiny offspring compete for food with the small oysters, or eat them, or just change the water quality to a poor state for oyster larvae. While the DEI staff have overcome a large part of this by the novel approach of spreading a marine adhesive over the shells (prevents the hitchhikers from spawning), they still have a bit of a problem to overcome.

Also, there seems to be a bacterium at play in the larval tanks, one that ends up killing small oysters such that they end up clumped up in a pile, dead. Brian, George and Kyle are experimenting with some prophylactic approaches for this, but I can tell you that she ain't solved yet.

So, when I stopped in to talk with George and Kyle on Monday last, George was realistic (not what you'd call giddy) about the chances for the upcoming spawn, while being optimistic about the effectiveness of their new procedures, and chances for success. If they are successful, then oysters will go out to cooperators in industry for nursery culture and growout. Since flat oysters like cooler, more moderate water temperatures than their Eastern cousins, and since we've got a lot of that kind of water around here in Maine, they are a reasonable species to culture, especially for the many fishermen in the state who are beginning to experiment with aquaculture.

Above: Dan Canfield, a shellfish grower out of Tenant's Harbor, Maine and a former commercial fisherman, has a few flat oysters on his farm, and hopes to begin going to market in 2011.

So, for now, my visit was a reinforcement of the promise and the problems with the flat oyster. A couple of years ago, I organized a session on O. edulis at the Northeast Aquaculture Conference and Expo (NACE) in Portland, and one of the titles in the session summed it up accurately. Dr. Andre Mallet, who hails from Shippagan, New Brunswick, and who is himself an accomplished scientist and shellfish producer, called the flat oyster the Beast of Sorrow. Sheesh. Nonetheless, given the allure of a steady supply of belons to the market, I'm sure that Brian and company will persist, and they are every bit as likely as anyone to succeed.

Aquaculture is not for the faint of heart.

Income Diversity and the Maine Seafood Producer

Just like fishermen throughout the nation and the world, the yearly cycle of the Maine fisherman has changed drastically in the last 25 years. One of the most profound changes is that regulations designed to protect stocks of fish and shellfish have set Maine's fishing men and women into boxes, often having to become single-species specialists, where before they were active in multiple fisheries. We all know someone who can say: "It used to be that I'd go scalloping and shrimping in the winter, dig clams on the side, fish a few lobsters, and go groundfishing when I could. Now, I'm shut out, and pretty much all I can do is go lobstering."


The effects of this pigeonholing are just as well known, ranging from economic hardship for fishing families, to having to fish harder and harder, just to stay ahead. Opportunities for diversifying have been few and far between, though the need to do so has remained.

In recent years, a handful of fishermen in Maine have found a way to diversify their income through becoming shellfish farmers. While aquaculture and fishing have not always gotten along, there are about 20 shellfish growers in Maine who are either still active fishermen, or who came from the fishing industry originally. In places like North Haven, Harpswell, Mount Desert, South Bristol, Brooksville, Machaisport, and Portland, fishermen have discovered a farmer living someplace inside, and have made a transition where 'Fisherman' includes both capture and culture. In places like Rhode Island, which has a rich commercial shellfishing history, probably 70% of the current aquaculturists are either active or former fishermen.

Back in 1999, I took part in a trip to Aomori Prefecture in Japan, together with several fishermen from Maine, as well as a processor, scientists and resource managers. We were investigating scallop production there, and ended up sitting down with a group of fishermen, at one of their cooperatives. When the talk got around to discussing the tension between aquaculture and wild harvest fishing, the Japanese fishermen looked confused – they didn't get what we were talking about. Eventually we came to understand that, for them, there has been no differentiation between fisherman and farmer for a long time now: those people are in fact the same person, and it all came down to just being a producer of seafood. Now, while Maine isn't Japan, it appears that this transition has been walking along slowly in our state for several years, and that it's likely to continue.

It's just as likely that getting into shellfish growing isn't going to be for every fisherman, but there are some good reasons why fishermen might want to try.

First of all, I'd argue that it's natural for some. There are those who say that hunters aren't farmers, and that's probably true to some extent. On the other hand, how many lobstermen have patted a short lobster, and tossed it over the rail saying 'See you next year." They know that with time and good management, they stand a chance of getting that lobster back in the trap when it's ready to go to market. There is some feeding involved, and observations made about health and disease, distribution and behavior. This is the essence of animal husbandry.

The other example of fishermen having a farmer living inside – even if they don't know it – comes from scallop spat collection right here in Maine. Over the years, we've worked with perhaps a couple hundred fishermen on spat collection for stock enhancement. One thing I notice is that when a guy hauls his spat collector up, and sees hundreds or thousands of seed scallops inside (and this does happen), he'll say at least one of two things. The first thing is that he (or she) will wonder is: who gets to fish on the scallops he's captured and reseeded? This is a natural inclination given the time and effort to collect them in the first place. The second thing that's usually said amounts to "Geez, I'd sure like to put these in a cage and grow a few out." That's the farmer speaking, and the businessman, too. So, I'm not in a rush to divide hunters and farmers just yet, they don't have to cancel one another out.

Fishing cooperatives are in a particularly strong position to be involved, and again, Maine leads in this area. Co-ops of course are member driven, so the organization exists to serve the individual fishermen, an important distinction when considering the Maine tradition of 'owner-operator' rather than 'corporate' on the waterfront. Co-ops market product efficiently, purchase materials more cheaply, and serve the many administrative functions that businesses need to survive. In this way, they can hold off the natural market forces that favor consolidation and growth (ie. 'AgriBiz'), and they can act big while staying member-focused. They can also stay connected to the customer, a big consideration in today's food market.

Make no mistake though, there are plenty of obstacles too, and the purpose of this article is not to turn all fishermen into shellfish growers. Space to grow shellfish will always be at a premium, although fishermen are in a great position to choose location well, and to fit in with other users. We also have too short a list of species to grow, and more diversity there would help. Eastern oysters are well proven, but do best in warmer waters than we have over much of the state. European oysters like colder waters and we have plenty of that, but they are tricky to grow; a project through the Downeast Institute is just beginning, that aims to work with fishermen on better husbandry and siting. Blue mussels are a solid product, though mussel farms typically take up more space than your average oyster farm, and require more in terms of capital and equipment. There are opportunities for hard clams (quahogs), scallops and razor clams, but it will be a while before they are fully developed. The good news in all this is that it's possible to start pretty small in the game, to gather knowledge and to test the economics. There is also a good network of technical, business and regulatory help out there, through Maine Dept. of Marine Resources, Maine Aquaculture Association, Maine Aquaculture Innovation Center, Downeast Institute, Maine Sea Grant (my own institution) and others.

It should be said that slow but solid growth in this transition is probably better than a boom – there are too many stories of booms going bust. There is no room for unprofessional producers, either in aquaculture or fishing, because the seafood industry has to survive on quality product, on safety to the consumer, and on sound business and environmental practices. Americans just don't eat enough seafood, and they demand too much in terms of quality and price to provide producers with a whole lot of wiggle room; and it takes both attention to detail and commitment to grow quality shellfish, just as it does to capture and market a top-shelf lobster. On the other hand, Maine has a spectacular reputation for seafood - this applies to products grown and caught - and the market for Maine-grown shellfish has traditionally been strong.

Overall, the world market for seafood is expected to draw more and more from aquaculture. The National Academy of Sciences notes that aquaculture already makes up more than 50% of global seafood production, and wild-caught seafood has apparently topped out at between 90-100 million metric tons (FAO); this seems to be the limit that the oceans can reasonably produce given current management. A growing population means that demand for seafood will continue to rise, and aquaculture is projected to fill this market.

As for space, there is something to be said for aquaculture: the roughly 700 acres in shellfish production in Maine produces about 3 million dollars in product, supporting over 50 on-the-water jobs. If you assume that a lobster trap in a densely-fished area is about 60 feet from its nearest trap, and that a fisherman has 600 traps, then that fishermen's traps cover roughly 38 acres, and about 18 fishermen cover 700-odd acres. So, in terms of jobs per unit area, aquaculture has something to recommend it, given our crowded coastline.

Shellfish aquaculture is by no means perfect. There are risks for invasive species and disease, and it's possible to overload an area so badly that problems arise. However, just like traditional agriculture and in other aspects of fishing, there are a host of good management practices that keep these risks to a minimum. Integration of fish, shellfish and seaweed (and seaweed also presents another large opportunity) may help to increase the resiliency of our heavily used coastal waters, and because they are filter feeders, shellfish promote good water quality.

More to the point though, what this industry might be able to provide is an opportunity for Maine's fishermen to diversify their income, to use their experience and their vessels, on a venture that can exist quite well with the existing fisheries.

Food for thought.

Shellfish Marketing Workshop

Hi everyone; Below is a quick writeup of the recent workshop...happy reading!

Marketing of cultured shellfish was the topic of the day at a workshop held in Portland, Maine, on April 8th. Producers, two industry associations, specialists in cooperatives and marketing , seafood dealers, scientists, a top-shelf chef, gear suppliers and members of the media were all on hand for a wide-ranging conversation that touched on everything from market-based production on the farm, to the benefits of strong relationships with restaurateurs and chefs.

The workshop was one of a series sponsored by the Northeast Regional Aquaculture Center, through the Regional Extension Project, and was coordinated by Maine Sea Grant / Univ. of Maine Cooperative Extension. Partners in organizing, planning and funding the event include the Maine Aquaculture Innovation Center, Maine Aquaculture Association, East Coast Shellfish Growers Association, Univ. of Connecticut and Salem State College.

The keynote speaker was Skip Bennett, founder and owner of Island Creek Oysters in Duxbury, MA. Island Creek has become a well-recognized producer of quality oysters throughout the country and internationally, and Skip made it clear that quality product and good connections with everybody in the distribution chain – right down to the customer – play a big role in their success. "When I started delivering oysters to the chefs right in the kitchen" he said, "that's when I realized that they really like knowing all about the food they serve, and what I do as a farmer." That experience stuck with him, and he uses it to guide his business, so that his wholesalers, truckers and employees can be responsive to the needs of the market.

Keeping in touch with your markets, and having a marketing plan to drive your production was one of the points followed up by Sebastian Belle of the Maine Aquaculture Association. "Deliver what you market, and market what you deliver" he said, and noted that detailed data on your marketing activities and costs should always be kept, so that your planned work can be judged against reality, allowing the grower to adjust effectively.

He also covered the traditional 4 points of marketing: Product, Price, Packaging and Place, with examples of each, to get producers thinking about how their business are positioned, and how they could look for improvement.

Cooperatives for production, purchasing and marketing were covered by Bill Brockhouse, an agriculture specialist with the USDA in Washington, DC. Bill went step-by-step through the process of cooperative development, and provided a number of materials that growers can use to figure out if a cooperative is right for them. Given that many shellfish producers are smaller operations, one of the advantages of the co-op approach was that a co-op manager can play the role of marketer for the whole group, whereas producers may have a hard time allocating time and financial resources to the important job of marketing.

The topics of branding and certifications were covered by Bob Rheault of the East Coast Shellfish Grower's Association, and it all starts with quality, quality, and quality. Development of your brand in the mind of the customer is a product of hard work and attention to detail, and is a fragile thing. When talking with people in your distribution chain, listen more than you talk, and be open to changing your practices if warranted.

He emphasized the mindset of 'never stop marketing;' use your box, your shirt, your hat, everything to convey a consistent message. On certifications, he things the jury is still out on the market advantage of eco-certifications, but the issue bears watching. For now, the process is driven by larger wholesalers rather than consumers.

The afternoon was devoted to two panel presentations. In the first panel, Tollef Olson (mussel and seaweed grower, Casco Bay, ME), Terry Callery (marketing consultant, Waldoboro, ME) and Jeff Payson (Northeast Transport, Waldoboro, ME) were focused on reaching customers, literally and figuratively, and showed that there's more than one way to skin the cat – or shellfish.

                                 Tollef Olson - Bangs Island Mussels, and Ocean Approved, LLC
          
Tollef began by recognizing that farming shellfish is like farming and fishing everywhere: it's not just a job, it's a way of life. He also emphasized the value of getting in front of customers, through personal contact at events, persistence with distributors and the use of social media, while Terry's message was that growers should focus on growing the best product possible rather than spending their time marketing. He added that, by working with marketing specialists, larger dealers and distributors, and by using some available information on distribution routes, that the jobs of marketing and sales could be taken care of, without taking the farmer off the farm.

Jeff reinforced the value of working with closely with a transport company, noting the several cities his company can access with good regularity, and with full loads, delivery can cost as little as $0.10 per pound. This led to the possibilities of growers working together, and marketing to buyers at a distance, to reduce local competition.

Dave Cheney - Fisherman and oyster grower (left) and Jeff Payson - Owner of Northeast Transport

Jeff (and other speakers) also talked about the value of good packaging, so that your product looks good, and arrives with the best quality possible – sagging, drab, leaky boxes on a pallet are two strikes right off the bat.

The last two speakers – Peter Ramsden (CEO, Foley Fish, Boston, MA) and Jeremy Sewall (Owner and Executive Chef, Lineage and Eastern Standard restaurants, MA), closed the travel of the product through a wholesaler, and finally to the chef's plate. Once again, good lines of communication and strong relationships were watchwords, as was quality. As Peter noted, speaking about relationships and family-run operations like Foley Fish: "We're going to be in the business, and we hope you'll be in the business. We want our grandkids to be buying shellfish from your grandkids."

              Peter Ramsden, CEO of Foley Fish (left) and Abigail Carroll, Nonesuch Oyster Co.

From the standpoint of a distributor, Peter looks for a few key things in his shellfish vendors: a passion for what they do, willingness to be a good communicator, ability to run their operations as real businesses, and a desire to always improve the product.

And to close things up, Jeremy returned the group back to where we began, which was that he loves to hear about the food: how it's grown, where it came from, who grew it, and all those details that help to create a good story behind the food.

A full transcript is in progress for the event, and a companion CD is being developed for distribution through NRAC, extension agents, ECSGA, MAA and others. The CD will contain the transcript, presentations, and a list of printed and on-line resources for producers to help them become effective marketers.

      Jeff (Smokey) McKeen, of Pemaquid Oyster Co, and Peter Fischer, of Pemaquid Mussel Co.

For more information about the workshop, contact Dana Morse, Maine Sea Grant / Univ. of Maine Cooperative Extension, at 207.563.3146 x 205, or by email: dana.morse@maine.edu.

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!