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n fact, the animals’ filtering prowess is such that, this summer, the aquafarm will launch a project to create an artificial oyster reef. Oysters reproduce by releasing eggs and sperm into the water. When those gametes meet, they form a weensy, free-swimming baby oyster. At about a
month old, the littles attach to something within the ocean and start growing their shells—then never move again. “Their very favorite thing to grab onto is other oyster shells, because [that] must be a good place for oysters to live,” Steinke says. Because of this, researchers and organizations can establish reefs by installing solid, underwater structures studded with old oyster shells. Live bivalves will attach to them, purifying the surrounding water. “They’re ecosystem engineers,” says Theresa Talley, a coastal specialist with the California Sea Grant at Scripps Institution of Oceanography. In San Diego
The aquafarm’s dock overlooks the lagoon and its rows of buoys laden with heavy stacks of oyster-filled trays. The buoys keep the shellfish suspended about 10 feet below the surface, reducing the farm’s impact on seafloor wildlife.
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County, cleaner and clearer water allows endangered eelgrass to grow, which provides a “nursery” for baby fish. “[Eelgrass] is a keystone species that triggers an enormous boom of life,” Steinke explains.
hen I share fun facts about oysters’ super-cleaner quality, negative nancies say things like, “So, we’re eating all the stuff they filtered out?” As the
The shells themselves are made of calcium carbonate, which oysters produce by pulling carbon dioxide from the ocean and atmosphere. The CO2 in an oyster’s shell is trapped for around 10,000 years.
aquafarm’s guides reassure visitors, however, we’re not. Once the farmers harvest a crop of oysters from the lagoon, the critters undergo a depuration process. Triple-filtered, ultra-clean saltwater from the lagoon runs over them for four days, forcing them to purge dirt, sediment, or toxins. A sampling of each batch is tested for bacteria and contaminants before the oysters are made available for purchase and consumption. The aquafarm currently exclusively sells its oysters to locals for onsite pickup—or plops them in front of tour-goers learning to shuck. to preparing our own meat, from whole, unyielding body to tender, edible flesh. It’s easier with practice, but there’s a sense of sweat and danger to it. On the aquafarm’s dock, bitten by seabreeze, my fellow tourists and I cajole, wrestle, pry the shells open. My knife slips, and I open a near-invisible cut on my hand. The rewards of my tiny blood sacrifice are plump, silky bites of seafood with clean notes of cucumber beneath the expected oceanic zing of the “oyster liqueur” (the saltwater that lingers in the shell after shucking). As I squeeze on lemon and tip back my head, I don’t feel monstrous eating my favorite animal. Instead, I feel part of all of it: The creature that sustained the lagoon is now nourishing me. The shell in my hand will be an anchor for a future baby oyster. The water, as always, will flow. ysters, I believe, have another, less obvious sustainable superpower: They can force us to reckon with where our food comes from. Shucking is the closest many of us get O
Already, the oyster crops have fostered an increased growth of eelgrass around the farm. “There are three lagoons in Carlsbad, and there’s wildlife that we see here that you don't see in the other two lagoons,” Steinke says. The eelgrass meadow is home to creatures like San Diego’s native seahorse. In the lagoon, seals, sea lions, and seabirds hunt mussel-hungry fish and excrete, ahem , nutrients that, in turn, help the shellfish grow. In addition, the artificial reef will provide another use for the farm’s massive pile of old shells, which has historically been utilized by community groups for construction and restoration projects—or just to feed chickens. The shells themselves are made of calcium carbonate, which oysters produce by pulling carbon dioxide from the ocean and atmosphere. The CO2 in an oyster’s shell is trapped for around 10,000 years. (By comparison, trees, which absorb the compound as they grow and release it when they die, lock up CO2 for about a century.) “It's a much more efficient way to carbon fix,” Steinke says. On top of it all, “[oysters] are a really good indicator species,” Steinke continues. When the reef is erected, scientists will be able to test the oysters to see what they’re filtering and how their growth rate is impacted by environmental factors— which tells them more about what might be happening to other marine life nearby.
93 SAN DIEGO MAGAZINE
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