Washington Post March 4, 2019
The day dawns bright and clear, with a biting freeze that
clamps to any exposed skin within minutes outside. If it’s this cold on their
dock in Wittman, Md., Nick Hargrove and Derek Wilson know it’s going to be even
harder on the water, where water and tributaries might be frozen in some parts,
and there’s a bay, wide and flat, that can welcome a weather change in minutes.
It’s winter on the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay —
far from the white sails of recreational boating and sparkling water reflected
in day-tripper sunglasses — and that means it’s oyster season for these two
watermen of Wild Divers Oyster . The bay has a
different tone this time of year, when it’s human against the elements, wind
whipping across bows, and the two men, friends since sixth grade, don’t need
many words to express their apprehension to the day ahead. That apprehension is
part of the job, since Wilson must spend hours under the water, handpicking
oysters from the bay’s murky bottom while Hargrove maneuvers the boat, monitors
the cord that connects Wilson to it (and to air, light and warm water), and
sorts oysters for the day’s haul.
They are watermen just like many in their community
before them, but regulations, changing water quality and conditions, and the
rise of aquaculture provide new challenges. The two men are building a
decidedly modern business on the foundation of a traditional Chesapeake oyster
plucked right from the bottom, and area chefs are beginning to notice.
