Early on Oct. 16, as the sun rose above the horizon, I started up my white Jeep and traveled via the two ferries that connect North Haven to Shelter Island and the North Fork, bound for the dock at the Cornell Cooperative Extension marine center at the southernmost tip of Paradise Point in Southold.
The traffic was rather heavy as construction and repairs were being done at both the North and South Ferry terminals. I’m glad I departed earlier than usual.
The marine center is also where I receive my yearly allotment of oyster spat that I raise at my dock here on North Haven. Kim Tetrault and his team, mainly comprised of longtime volunteers, are always beyond helpful. It’s a special place, and Tetrault is the true Oyster King.
That morning, I had been invited by Harrison Tobi, an aquaculture specialist who focuses on bay scallops. He was going to take the boat that’s berthed at the center to one of the 21 bay scallop dive sites he monitors in the expansive Peconic estuary system from Flanders on the west to Orient Harbor and Northwest Harbor off to the east, an effort the extension as undertaken since 2005.
The goal that morning was to examine the productivity, survivability, and density of the bay scallop population both in the wild, and also those raised in plastic cages that were spawned at the marine center.
The harvesting of bay scallops will commence in state waters on Nov. 4. Sadly, the harvest of the tasty bivalves has been especially poor over the past five years.
Bay scallops are as delicate as they are delicious. Their cycles of boom and bust have gone on for nearly 200 years. However, a massive die-off in 1985 and again in 1995, due to an influx of brown tide; higher water temperatures, and a newfound parasite that weakens them while in their spring spawn have put their future in serious jeopardy.
Mother Nature has delivered a nasty curveball to our bay scallop, much to the dismay of many baymen, as well as those who enjoy them on the dinner plate, and dedicated marine scientists like Tobi are trying hard to find a solution to the problem at hand.
On Oct. 16, Tobi was planning to check out a dive site in Flanders Bay, but the strong northwest wind made such passage rather dangerous and wealtered course to hug the leeward coastline east to Orient Harbor, about five miles away.
The rumors of another poor scallop season have run rampant among local baymen. “They’ve died off again in Orient and East Marion,” one bayman told me last week. “I did some prospecting there and there are none. The area around Sag Harbor had a decent set a few weeks ago, but they too have since died. It’s really discouraging again.”
Tobi was joined by Brooke DelPrete, a recent graduate of Cornell University in biological sciences and marine biology, who was raised and now lives in Westhampton. DelPrete, who is also a most accomplished tennis player, has served as a coach and hitting partner at the Westhampton Beach and Tennis Club when not hitting the books or researching scallops. While she still belts a solid forehand with the tennis racket on a regular basis, she was geared up last week in her oiled slicks.
Tobi is totally immersed and focused on researching the demise of the treasured bivalve and has been seeking ways to encourage a rebound of the bay scallop population for the past four years. Want to talk marine biology and scallops? Tobi is your man.
Interestingly, Tobi was raised in the tiny town of Jericho, Vt., about 15 miles east of Burlington. Not surprisingly while growing up, he developed into an accomplished snow skier at Mount Mansfield, the highest mountain in Ver-mont. Skiing was a true passion for him in his youth, but the lure of working on saltwater ultimately called his name and skiing was put aside.
“Our family would go to Maine at times during the summer, and I loved the ocean,” he recalled on the bumpy ride to Orient Harbor. “It shaped my passion and career.”
After attending the University of Vermont, Tobi graduated with a master’s degree in marine biology from the University of Massachusetts Dartmouth, about a 10-minute drive from the saltwater of nearby Buzzard’s Bay.
After DelPrete dropped the anchor at the dive site in about 10 feet of water, Tobi hurled himself backward off the stern of the center console in his wetsuit to check on the cages in the clear water beneath us.
While the gusty northwest winds moved our shallow-drafted boat to and fro, Tobi was doing his job below. About 20 minutes later, he brought aboard 19 scallop-laden cages, with the aid of DelPrete.
Tobi was last at this particular site, just off the Orient causeway, about a month ago. Culling through the cages on the stern deck, he found a good number of scallops that were alive. However, mixed in were some that had died in the past four weeks.
He then re-entered the water to examine the nearby bay bottom for scallops that were born in the wild this spring. He was surprisingly pleased.
“We really have not seen scallops here in this area for the past two years,” he said to me on the ride back to Southold. “The results today were better than I expected.”
It’s clear that our bay scallop has an immense uphill climb to regain its once great prominence. But it’s satisfying to see Tobi and his crew trying so hard to bring back them back. If anyone can do it, it’s Tobi.
On a non-tangent thought, I’d be remiss if I did not mention that Montauk is experiencing a most exceptional run of striped bass. Drop a basic bucktail or diamond jig, and you’re in like Flynn. The fishing has been absolutely fantastic in and around Montauk Point. Catch ’em while they’re here.
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Fishing tips, observations, and photos can be sent to [email protected].