Essex oysters were once all about Ostrea edulis, the native flat oyster found in huge quantities in the creeks of that serrated coast where the water quality and nutrient levels were just right, reports John Worrall
Above: Gracie found millpond conditions to begin with…
Historically, oysters were cheap food, their consumption traced back to Roman times and, by the 18th and 19th centuries, they were nutrition for the masses: the Victorians put them in pies or sold them on street corners.
A huge industry grew up around oysters – of 22.9 million oysters (2,250t) landed in the UK in 1914, 89% were from Essex and Kent – and the technology for collecting them developed, reaching its final sail-powered refinement with the smacks – the surviving examples of which are so beloved of wooden boat enthusiasts today. Using wind, tide and manoeuvrability, they dredged the creeks and coastal waters right into the 20th century until they were usurped, in working terms at least, by engine power.
But the 20th century brought hard times for edulis, in the form of the Bonamia ostreae parasite which appeared in the 1960s, at about the time of the legendary winter of 1962-1963 which, some reckon, weakened the stock and rendered it more susceptible to something which may already have been out there. Either way, Bonamia tended to kill the oyster as it reached maturity, in a process still not fully understood although a similar phenomenon sometimes occurs with different parasites in other shellfish.
For a long time thereafter, edulis was commercially nonviable and the industry turned to the Pacific oyster, Crassostrea gigas which is not affected by Bonamia and which, though cultivated mainly on frames, has now gone widely feral around the creeks. But edulis never went away completely and, with much nurturing – not least through the efforts of the Essex Native Oyster Restoration Initiative (NORI) – is making a comeback.
Neither did the smacks go away. Dating mostly from the 19th century, and works of art all of them, three or four dozen are reckoned still to be berthed in Essex, (perhaps twice as many again are scattered around the UK and Europe), and some of them took to racing to keep themselves alive.
Except that for some owners, simple racing wasn’t enough and, back in the 1990s, they decided on an annual event to revive and preserve the old skill of fishing under sail. In its first year, it was a trawling competition but, thereafter, it became the Mersea Oyster-Dredging Match.
The prime mover back then was traditional sailing smack enthusiast Charles Harker, later assisted by oysterman William Baker, who has himself now run the event for a decade or so. The aim these days is to promote the local commercial oyster fisheries and businesses, and engage the local community, celebrity chefs, shellfish industry representatives, and shellfish policy makers.
The event has a ready-made focus in Packing Shed Island, a sliver of land just off the southwestern point of Mersea Island itself. The eponymous building thereon, dating from 1897, is built on piles to survive spring tides: this is not high, nor particularly permanent, ground; a short-lived predecessor succumbed to a storm, as this one almost did in 1987. Refurbished from an almost skeletal condition in the 1990s, it doesn’t pack oysters these days – it’s available for functions and events – and is the only building on the island, although there are the remains of oyster pits, all relics of the time when oysters were being shipped out by the barrel to London and Europe.
And so it was, that on a gloriously sunny and warm mid-September day, nearly a dozen smacks went dredging, led by the Foreman Smack, traditionally the winner of the previous year’s main prize, the John Frost trophy, for the smack handled and rigged in the most seamanlike and professional manner. This year’s foreman was Marie CK 21, built at Rowhedge on the Colne in 1886.
On board were the West Mersea Mayor, Cllr Carl Poweling, and the Colchester Mayor, Cllr Julie Young, who jointly started the two-hour match by raising the foreman’s flag and casting the first dredge.
Fishing News was aboard Gracie CK 46. She’s 36ft LOA and draws 4ft’ 6in; one of the smaller smacks which were, historically, the workers of the creeks, the bigger topmast smacks being able to work further out. She was built in 1890 in Brightlingsea, although it is not known by whom – one of the few smacks with that gap in her provenance.
The rules for the day were that all contestants must dredge in the same direction as the foreman smack, but with no wind at all for the first half hour, that really came down to drifting on the ebb while the judges’ boat cruised around to make sure all stayed within the marked ground.
Gracie, skippered by Pinky Hughes, one of her three owners, deployed a couple of dredges, but to no immediate avail. Part of the trick was short hauls, because oysters tend to accumulate in patches and while a long haul might find some, it was important to know exactly where, so that the trick could be repeated.
There was a lot of mud, and quite a lot of old shell, but then after an hour, and with the breeze stirring, Pinky struck oyster and, working over the spot a few times, began to fill the box on the deck.
It’s a deceptive creature, edulis, often attached to, and grown on, old shell, and being flat – relatively so compared to gigas at any rate – could escape the notice of the unversed. But Pinky and crew – Daniel Hill and Mark Bailey – were nothing if not versed, as demonstrated back on the island, because there, they were awarded The John Frost Trophy. And so Gracie gets to be Foreman Smack next year, for which Fishing News modestly claims some credit, just for being aboard.
But smack owning isn’t all racing and dredging matches.
“We’ve got to do some caulking this winter,” said Pinky. “Rake all the joints out and replace nails and screws. And I painted the hull earlier this year, and did the antifouling. She doesn’t get hauled out every year – can’t afford that – but you can always find something to do to keep her going. It’s a fulltime job, really.”
But it does have its days like this when – with the sun still shining after the match – crews, passengers and spectators spread out their picnics on the island. The last action of the day was an oyster-opening competition which, out of seven starters, was won by the owner of the Mersea Oyster Bar – but then he has apparently opened a few oysters in his time! Perhaps they should introduce a handicap system. The opened oysters, left on the competition table, didn’t last long, although it should be noted that no oysters dredged on the day were hurt in this process; those were all returned to the sea after weighing, because native oysters in these waters are presently protected as part of the NORI programme.
If NORI continues its progress, and native numbers continue to increase, that might change before too long.
Read more from Fishing News here.
Essex oysters were once all about Ostrea edulis, the native flat oyster found in huge quantities in the creeks of that serrated coast where the water quality and nutrient levels were just right, reports John Worrall Above: Gracie found millpond conditions to begin with… Historically, oysters were cheap food, their consumption traced back to Roman times and, by the 18th and 19th centuries, they were nutrition for the masses: the Victorians put them in pies or sold them on street corners. A huge industry grew up around oysters – of 22.9 million oysters (2,250t) landed in the UK in 1914, 89% were from Essex and Kent – and the technology for collecting them developed, reaching its final sail-powered refinement with the smacks – the surviving examples of which are so beloved of wooden boat enthusiasts today. Using wind, tide and manoeuvrability, they dredged the creeks and coastal waters right into the 20th century until they were usurped, in working terms at least, by engine power.
But the 20th century brought hard times for edulis, in the form of the Bonamia ostreae parasite which appeared in the 1960s, at about the time of the legendary winter of 1962-1963 which, some reckon, weakened the stock and rendered it more susceptible to something which may already have been out there. Either way, Bonamia tended to kill the oyster as it reached maturity, in a process still not fully understood although a similar phenomenon sometimes occurs with different parasites in other shellfish. For a long time thereafter, edulis was commercially nonviable and the industry turned to the Pacific oyster, Crassostrea gigas which is not affected by Bonamia and which, though cultivated mainly on frames, has now gone widely feral around the creeks. But edulis never went away completely and, with much nurturing – not least through the efforts of the Essex Native Oyster Restoration Initiative (NORI) – is making a comeback. Neither did the smacks go away. Dating mostly from the 19th century, and works of art all of them, three or four dozen are reckoned still to be berthed in Essex, (perhaps twice as many again are scattered around the UK and Europe), and some of them took to racing to keep themselves alive. Except that for some owners, simple racing wasn’t enough and, back in the 1990s, they decided on an annual event to revive and preserve the old skill of fishing under sail. In its first year, it was a trawling competition but, thereafter, it became the Mersea Oyster-Dredging Match. The prime mover back then was traditional sailing smack enthusiast Charles Harker, later assisted by oysterman William Baker, who has himself now run the event for a decade or so. The aim these days is to promote the local commercial oyster fisheries and businesses, and engage the local community, celebrity chefs, shellfish industry representatives, and shellfish policy makers.