- Sydney and A Nahcotta Shell Pile
At this time of year, I sometimes think that Nahcotta will disappear under a gigantic pile of oyster shells. There are always shell piles in Nahcotta and its outskirts. We have them in Oysterville, too, by the old cannery, but not nearly as many as in our neighbor-town four miles to the south. And right now, they are ‘ginormous,’ as the kids say.
There have been shell piles at this end of the Peninsula for thousands of years. The best known ancient site is in the Martin bog off Joe Johns Road. It was once the focus of an archaeological dig by the University of Washington but was abandoned in the 1960s for the more promising site at Ozette in the northwest corner of the state.
The difference between the shell heaps or ‘middens’ of interest to archaeologists and today’s shell piles is considerable. Those old, old middens were the kitchen garden dumps of ages past and the shells, like the animal bones, ashes, and other vestiges of domestic waste found in them, can tell archaeologists a lot about the lifestyle of people who lived here long ago.
The piles of oyster shells we see growing before our very eyes these days are hardly formed of kitchen waste. They are created purposefully after the oysters are shucked; the shells will be reused as part of the continuous planting, growing, harvesting cycle of the Willapa Bay oyster industry. Daily, plastic mesh bags are being filled with shell and stacked near the piles, waiting until hatchery larvae are ready for them. Then, the bags will be dumped into the big hatchery tanks, the larvae will attach to the shell, and the bags of “seed” will be returned to the bay where the baby oysters will, hopefully, thrive.
When I was a kid, we didn’t have such fancy containers for recycling shells. Heck, we didn’t even have plastic! I remember sitting on a small wooden bench at the edge of the shell pile near the Northern Oyster Company in Oysterville, punching holes through one shell at a time. I used a special hammer to which a pointy spike was affixed, and I can still remember the smelly glup that spattered over me when I hit a rotten shell.
When I had a fair number punched, I strung them on a six-foot wire, bending the ends so they wouldn’t fall off. I was a skinny little ten-year-old and wrestling those heavy, awkward, strings of shell was hard work. But punching and stringing shell was a fine way to earn enough money (was it 12 cents a string?) for a first bike – a blue bike from Montgomery Ward that I named “Faster.”
Whether strung on wire ready to go out to the bay to catch a natural spawn or, as now, bagged and ready to catch hatchery-raised eyed larvae, the recycled oyster shells are an important part of the oyster farming process. A thousand years from now, I wonder what the archaeologists will make of our modern shell pile remains.
That was my first job! I too remember the glop that would hit me in the face. I think it was 15 cents a string. Didn’t make much money(I talked too much) but it felt great to have a job. I think I was 10.
I remember when I arrived at the North End, in 1981, and saw my first midden of shell piled up in the parking lot of The Ark restaurant. The local boys that had befriended “the new guy” were all “OP Lifers”, and well indoctrinated in Oyster Farm knowledge. We sat atop the pile all night, drinking beers, and they took turns telling me where the shells were going, where they’d come from, and stories from their fathers and grandfathers. Their stories told about the evolution of shell handling/seeding, from “fanning” shovels from scows, punching and stringing lines, to bagging and soaking in heated tanks of water with Spat (“setting size” Larvae) and Food Algae. Little did I know, this industry would become my primary, adult life’s work. I started “seeding” with Weigardt Bros’ “Bag Crew” in May 1984, until I left for college in June, then Coast Oyster (now Coast Seafoods Co.) seed crew (we affectionately called ourselves “The Mud Warriors”) after I came back from CA. in 1986, before finding a place aboard the old, wooden, Tow Vessel “Ilwaco” in September 1989, and finally Head of Hydraulic Dredge Operation aboard the Ralph Hayes (commonly known as The Hydraulic Dredge, now retired), 1990 – August 2002. As hard, heavy, wet/cold and dirty as the job could be, I LOVED it, and the pay wasn’t very good by “National Standards”, but good money for Pacific County! Those stinky shells, and their wet, muddy, heavy handling enabled me to buy my own home at 25 y/o, without need of my college education! {:-D
Sydney! You got 12 cents a string?? I only got 10 cents. But then, I was working for my dad and he probably thought it was a privilege for me to help the family. You saved for a bike?? I used my money for licorice pipes down at the Oysterville store.
This is one of my favorite posts so far, and the replies are interesting too. That’s one childhood job that I’d never heard of, and I grew up not too far away (relatively speaking) — in Willapa Valley. Out in that area, a country kid could earn a few pennies by peeling and selling Cascara bark (which was used as an ingredient in OTC laxatives at that time) to a little grocery store near Sylvandale School that I believe was called the Red & White. In checking my facts, I came upon an interesting fact. According to Wikipedia, the Chinook jargon for the Cascara tree was “chittam stick,” and the bark (the laxative) was “chitticum.” (Yep, sounds just like what follows, or comes, from taking the cure.)
Kids around here peeled Cascara bark, too, though I never did. There were always stories about a new kid being told not to chew the bark and, of course, they did, and… well, you know the rest. I don’t think they ever did it again!
Yup, Linda, I heard that “chittam stick” phrase as a Chinook child in the early 70’s! {;-D
When we moved to Nahcotta my children, especially the youngest, was impressed with the piles of oyster shells. My grandmother used them for ashtrays in their beach house in Seaview and I think I have one from our days in Nahcotta.
Hi, I see that there are no recent comments, but I hope someone gets this message. My family trailed up the west coast in 1991 and ate at a wonderful place in or near Oysterville. They had huge piles of oystershells at the back of the restaurant and near the parking lot, and the food was excellent. Can you please tell me if this rings a bell and if you know if the restaurant still exists? Thanks, Marian.
Yes, it sounds like The Ark Restaurant in Nahcotta, right at the beginning of the Nahcotta Dock. Unfortunately, it is no longer operating. Sydney