Oregon Coast Outside: Oregon Oyster Farms
Yaquina Bay loves its bivalves
Oregon Oyster Farms • Newport
Story and photos by Niki Price
Oregon Coast Today
There are no stainless steel trays full of crushed ice, sprigs of decorative greenery or little bottles of Tabasco sauce. No lemon wedges. No little silver forks, or even napkins. All we have is a red-handled, 4-inch long shucking knife, and the rusty iron railing of a flat-decked harvesting boat. And, naturally, the guest of honor: a gnarly gray Pacific oyster that has just been pulled from the brackish waters of Yaquina Bay.
Oregon Oyster Farms foreman Miguel Ruiz wedges the knife into the shell’s gap and bangs the oyster, knife and all, against the railing. A few seconds later, the shell cracks open to reveal a plump white oyster that Miguel says would be classified as a medium. As he expertly rotates the open shell in his palm to cut the muscle, its pearlescent interior reflects the sun from the clear October sky; when he holds it out for my inspection, this oyster seems to glow from within. It’s beautiful, but not too lovely to eat, I think to myself. Moments later, I’m savoring the clean, distinctive salty-yet-sweet flavor that mocks the normal definition of “fresh oyster.”
In fact, it’s difficult to find a fresher bivalve than here at the Oregon Oyster Farms, six scenic miles up the Yaquina River Road outside Newport. In the waters of Yaquina Bay, between markers 20 and 28, they’re growing millions of Pacifics and Kumamotos that will eventually make their way to oyster bars, fish markets and upscale restaurants around the world. The farm supplies 90 percent of the oysters consumed at restaurants in Yachats, Newport and Lincoln City, and even sells their product by the dozen, shucked or as “shell stock,” at a small retail counter on site.
And while not everyone can belly up to the oyster barge — at least not without asking permission from Oregon Oyster Farms owner Xin Liu, like I did — there’s plenty to see and do at Liu’s farm. Depending on the day, you can watch the professional shuckers through a plate glass window, watch the boats and workers as they harvest bushels and even enjoy some of the day’s harvest on the half shell. There’s no seating area, however, so be prepared to slurp on your feet.
Shellfish history
Humans have been enjoying fresh oysters on the banks of the Yaquina for thousands of years. In fact, it was the abundance of oysters that first brought white settlers and industry to the central Oregon coast. Local historians like to say the industry began with a shipwreck, when the schooner “Juliet” was beached near present-day Newport in January 1852. When its crew made their way to the Willamette Valley two months later, they reported that the Yaquina Bay was full of clams, fish and a small, sweet oyster variety that came to be known as the Olympia.
Other travelers brought back similar stories, and in 1863, two commercial oyster firms set up shop on Yaquina Bay. Business flourished for the next 25 years, until the native oyster population was nearly depleted. But even as the stocks were disappearing, demand for fresh oysters was on the rise, especially in the bustling city of Portland. In 1907, the Wachsmuth family opened a restaurant that is now called Dan and Louis Oyster Bar, and created Oregon Oyster Farms to supply it.
The native Olympia oyster was (and still is, for the most part) considered too small and slow-growing for commercial farming. Early Yaquina oyster cultivators tried several other varieties, including popular Eastern flats and gulf oysters. But those little guys, native to warmer waters, did not survive in the chilly temps on the Oregon coast. Farmers finally found success with the Pacific, Crassostrea gigas. Native to northern Japan, the Pacific grows faster and larger than any other species, and has a sweet, mild taste that lends itself to many preparations. But the local waters are too cold for the Pacifics to reproduce, so in the beginning the larvae had to be imported from Japan. Today, thanks to research in the 1960s at Newport’s Hatfield Marine Science Center, the larvae of Pacific oysters (as well as that of Kumamoto oysters, also grown at Oregon Oyster Farms) are produced on the Oregon coast, at the Whiskey Creek Hatchery in Netarts.
About 20 times a year, crews at Oregon Oyster Farms place millions of tiny larvae and bushels of old, sanitized oyster shells in a tank, and fill it with 72-degree water. Within a few days, if all goes well, the larvae will attach to the shells and begin to grow; when they reach a viable size — just big enough to be seen by the naked eye — they’re moved into the bay. A certain number of the shells are distributed into the water in marked areas, and will live on the bottom of the bay until they’re dredged and brought to the surface two to three years from now; this method is called bottom culture.
The square wooden floats that are visible from the Yaquina River Road are part of the farm’s other cultivation method, off-bottom culture. The shells are attached to ropes that are suspended in the water from the floats; the floats are occasionally moved into different currents or into water with a different salinity, depending on what they need.
Oregon Oyster Farms, which since 1997 has been owned by Liu and his partners, Tom Ragghianti and John Becker, leases 560 acres from the State of Oregon. Liu said that each area they farm has its own set of conditions that will affect the shell thickness, meat content, growth rate and color of the shellfish that grow there. Over the past 10 years, he’s learned more about when and where to move the batches to achieve the best quality product. But it hasn’t been easy.
“We try growing oysters in a certain way in a certain location, and at another location, and then compare. Which one will give us a better yield, better growth rate, less mortality. After 10 years, I think we’ve figured out a few things.
“It’s truly applied science, dealing with Mother Nature. You cannot pick up a textbook that says, ‘do this.’ That doesn’t work. You have to know your environmental conditions very, very well,” he said. “It’s like a composer that makes wonderful music, and one that doesn’t. You’re all using the same notes. You have to know which note to put where.”
Every Monday through the high season, which begins around October, crews at Liu’s farm harvest and shuck thousands of oysters from Yaquina Bay.
The biggest among them, Pacifics with shells that are more than 7 inches long, are packed into shipping containers for their journey to Asian markets, mostly in Taiwan. Smaller shell stock heads out to domestic customers, including a restaurant supplier with 70 accounts in Manhattan alone.
Oregon Oyster Farms • Newport
Story and photos by Niki Price
Oregon Coast Today
There are no stainless steel trays full of crushed ice, sprigs of decorative greenery or little bottles of Tabasco sauce. No lemon wedges. No little silver forks, or even napkins. All we have is a red-handled, 4-inch long shucking knife, and the rusty iron railing of a flat-decked harvesting boat. And, naturally, the guest of honor: a gnarly gray Pacific oyster that has just been pulled from the brackish waters of Yaquina Bay.
Oregon Oyster Farms foreman Miguel Ruiz wedges the knife into the shell’s gap and bangs the oyster, knife and all, against the railing. A few seconds later, the shell cracks open to reveal a plump white oyster that Miguel says would be classified as a medium. As he expertly rotates the open shell in his palm to cut the muscle, its pearlescent interior reflects the sun from the clear October sky; when he holds it out for my inspection, this oyster seems to glow from within. It’s beautiful, but not too lovely to eat, I think to myself. Moments later, I’m savoring the clean, distinctive salty-yet-sweet flavor that mocks the normal definition of “fresh oyster.”
In fact, it’s difficult to find a fresher bivalve than here at the Oregon Oyster Farms, six scenic miles up the Yaquina River Road outside Newport. In the waters of Yaquina Bay, between markers 20 and 28, they’re growing millions of Pacifics and Kumamotos that will eventually make their way to oyster bars, fish markets and upscale restaurants around the world. The farm supplies 90 percent of the oysters consumed at restaurants in Yachats, Newport and Lincoln City, and even sells their product by the dozen, shucked or as “shell stock,” at a small retail counter on site.
And while not everyone can belly up to the oyster barge — at least not without asking permission from Oregon Oyster Farms owner Xin Liu, like I did — there’s plenty to see and do at Liu’s farm. Depending on the day, you can watch the professional shuckers through a plate glass window, watch the boats and workers as they harvest bushels and even enjoy some of the day’s harvest on the half shell. There’s no seating area, however, so be prepared to slurp on your feet.
Shellfish history
Humans have been enjoying fresh oysters on the banks of the Yaquina for thousands of years. In fact, it was the abundance of oysters that first brought white settlers and industry to the central Oregon coast. Local historians like to say the industry began with a shipwreck, when the schooner “Juliet” was beached near present-day Newport in January 1852. When its crew made their way to the Willamette Valley two months later, they reported that the Yaquina Bay was full of clams, fish and a small, sweet oyster variety that came to be known as the Olympia.
Other travelers brought back similar stories, and in 1863, two commercial oyster firms set up shop on Yaquina Bay. Business flourished for the next 25 years, until the native oyster population was nearly depleted. But even as the stocks were disappearing, demand for fresh oysters was on the rise, especially in the bustling city of Portland. In 1907, the Wachsmuth family opened a restaurant that is now called Dan and Louis Oyster Bar, and created Oregon Oyster Farms to supply it.
The native Olympia oyster was (and still is, for the most part) considered too small and slow-growing for commercial farming. Early Yaquina oyster cultivators tried several other varieties, including popular Eastern flats and gulf oysters. But those little guys, native to warmer waters, did not survive in the chilly temps on the Oregon coast. Farmers finally found success with the Pacific, Crassostrea gigas. Native to northern Japan, the Pacific grows faster and larger than any other species, and has a sweet, mild taste that lends itself to many preparations. But the local waters are too cold for the Pacifics to reproduce, so in the beginning the larvae had to be imported from Japan. Today, thanks to research in the 1960s at Newport’s Hatfield Marine Science Center, the larvae of Pacific oysters (as well as that of Kumamoto oysters, also grown at Oregon Oyster Farms) are produced on the Oregon coast, at the Whiskey Creek Hatchery in Netarts.
About 20 times a year, crews at Oregon Oyster Farms place millions of tiny larvae and bushels of old, sanitized oyster shells in a tank, and fill it with 72-degree water. Within a few days, if all goes well, the larvae will attach to the shells and begin to grow; when they reach a viable size — just big enough to be seen by the naked eye — they’re moved into the bay. A certain number of the shells are distributed into the water in marked areas, and will live on the bottom of the bay until they’re dredged and brought to the surface two to three years from now; this method is called bottom culture.
The square wooden floats that are visible from the Yaquina River Road are part of the farm’s other cultivation method, off-bottom culture. The shells are attached to ropes that are suspended in the water from the floats; the floats are occasionally moved into different currents or into water with a different salinity, depending on what they need.
Oregon Oyster Farms, which since 1997 has been owned by Liu and his partners, Tom Ragghianti and John Becker, leases 560 acres from the State of Oregon. Liu said that each area they farm has its own set of conditions that will affect the shell thickness, meat content, growth rate and color of the shellfish that grow there. Over the past 10 years, he’s learned more about when and where to move the batches to achieve the best quality product. But it hasn’t been easy.
“We try growing oysters in a certain way in a certain location, and at another location, and then compare. Which one will give us a better yield, better growth rate, less mortality. After 10 years, I think we’ve figured out a few things.
“It’s truly applied science, dealing with Mother Nature. You cannot pick up a textbook that says, ‘do this.’ That doesn’t work. You have to know your environmental conditions very, very well,” he said. “It’s like a composer that makes wonderful music, and one that doesn’t. You’re all using the same notes. You have to know which note to put where.”
Every Monday through the high season, which begins around October, crews at Liu’s farm harvest and shuck thousands of oysters from Yaquina Bay.
The biggest among them, Pacifics with shells that are more than 7 inches long, are packed into shipping containers for their journey to Asian markets, mostly in Taiwan. Smaller shell stock heads out to domestic customers, including a restaurant supplier with 70 accounts in Manhattan alone.
