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OYSTERVILLE, Washington 鈥� Usually, razor clams get all the publicity. Last spring鈥檚 razor-clam-digging opening on the 45-kilometre-long Long Beach Peninsula鈥檚 ocean beach was a big deal, because state fisheries honchos temporarily upped the daily limit after a long closure assured a good harvest. Fanatical diggers descended in droves.
But cross the 2.8-kilometre-wide peninsula to where the Pacific surf doesn鈥檛 pound and you鈥檙e in the land of the oyster. No digging required.
It鈥檚 a much quieter kind of delicious.
Here, foggy mists hang like lace curtains over sprawling Willapa Bay, where the palette is all soft greens, dusty blues and sea-grass tan. After you鈥檝e had your fill of Long Beach鈥檚 go-karts, arcade games, flashy kites and Jake the Alligator Man (the star attraction of Marsh鈥檚 Free Museum), and grumped about whatever new development has caught your eye (because the beach towns of your childhood aren鈥檛 supposed to change), it鈥檚 time to head 24 kilometres north to the quiet village of Oysterville.
Aah. Even the old-school name of the place is kind of soothing.
Near the far end of the peninsula, time seems to have paused, as if the community was clamped away in its own shell.
The whole 80-acre village is a national historic district, with development limits and design standards overseen by the National Park Service. Meaning: Nothing changes much.
Founded in 1854, Oysterville was a little boomtown and the county seat in its heyday.
In those days, Willapa Bay shipped boatloads of oysters to San Francisco to feed the increasingly sophisticated tastes of gold-rush-rich Californians.
Now, Oysterville is just a quiet, mostly residential community, a perfect place to be a hermit.
Strolling recently along a row of 19th-century homes, each with a placard erected by the Daughters of the Pioneers to tell when it was built and by whom (鈥淩.H. Espy House, co-founder of Oysterville, 1871鈥�), I chuckled when a big SUV pulled up and a sunglasses-clad tourist, perhaps in search of taffy stands and Dodgem cars, asked with dismay: 鈥淪o, where is Oysterville?鈥�
鈥淵ou鈥檙e in it!鈥� I told him, looking around with a smile at the steeple of the tiny white and red church, near a towering line of ancient cypresses and around the corner from the old one-room schoolhouse, no longer used for daily classes. 鈥淵ou鈥檙e in it.鈥�
Beyond the old houses, the 40-kilometre-long bay is now America鈥檚 largest producer of farmed oysters. On your way here, drive snaking Highway 101 along the bay鈥檚 eastern shore and you鈥檒l cross bridge after bridge over rivers and sloughs that bring nutrients oysters feed on.
At river mouths, prairie-like salt marshes bristle with reeds, capturing erosion-caused silt that might choke the bivalves. With a largely undeveloped shore, Willapa Bay has all the makings of an oyster鈥檚 Shangri-La.
Stroll the village. Step into Oysterville鈥檚 simple old church, where heat comes from a potbelly stove and the lighting is all by oil lamp. (Befitting a community by the sea, on our visit a Bible on the lectern had been left open to the Book of Jonah.) Peek through windows into the schoolhouse, which these days hosts a summertime science academy for local kids and a public lecture series (recently on the schedule: a chief of the coast guard motor lifeboat school at Cape Disappointment).
Then it鈥檚 time to get oysters for dinner.
Follow the road to the bay and you鈥檒l find the former oyster cannery, which claims to be the only one of its kind on the National Historic Register.
Today, the weathered dockside buildings are home to Oysterville Sea Farms, which markets products under its 鈥淲illabay鈥� trade name. A retail shop in a rustic waterfront shed sells oysters shucked or in the shell, along with clams, crab and shrimp.
You can buy oysters or shrimp cocktail ready to eat with a glass of wine on a deck overlooking the bay. But my mission was to procure oysters in the shell for my first-ever experiment with roasting oysters on a charcoal grill.
On the way to the beach, I鈥檇 already picked up a dozen medium-sized beauties across the bay at Goose Point Oysters, on the west side of 101 just north of the Niawiakum River, near Bay Center. This time, I chose a dozen small oysters for comparison.
In-shell oysters of any size were $7 US a dozen here, or three dozen for $20 if you wanted a real feast. A sign promised they were harvested that day. 鈥淎ll our oysters come from right out here,鈥� said counterman Mike Gibbs, nodding toward the bay where Oysterville Sea Farms stewards more than 80 hectares of private tidelands 鈥淭hese on the shell are hand-picked.鈥�
Being new at barbecuing them in the shell, I asked for guidance. He suggested putting them directly on the grill, waiting for the shells to gap open slightly on their own, then prying them open with a butter knife.
鈥淗old the shells up first and look at them and you can usually tell which is the 鈥榰p鈥� side, because you want to keep the juices to cook them in.鈥� (Place them 鈥渃upped鈥� side down.)
What kind of recipe might he suggest? 鈥淕arlic, butter and a fork,鈥� Gibbs said with a smile.
I paid for the oysters and a $20 bottle of Willabay Oyster Blanc white wine, developed by Oysterville Sea Farms and produced for them by Mount Baker Vineyards. A watercolor image of the oyster shed decorates the label.
Back at our beach rental at the north end of Long Beach鈥檚 Discovery Trail, I watched in suspense as the first batch smoked and sizzled on the rental鈥檚 Smoky Joe grill. Would they open?
At first, all they did was spew water like one of those Italian fountains with peeing cherubs. I worried that my coals would be extinguished. (This might have been for the good; if coals are too hot, the shells can explode, warned a website I consulted later. Perhaps safety glasses are in order?)
Gradually, one by one, they began to gap open, and I went to work prying the shells. I daubed the oysters with minced garlic, substituted a few drops of olive oil for the suggested butter and let them bubble a bit longer before serving with a choice of red cocktail sauce from the Goose Point Oystery or my wife鈥檚 homemade tartar sauce (mayonnaise, dill pickle relish, finely minced onion, and paprika).
Or we just ate them off the shell and savoured the taste of sea, salt and smoke, washed down with a sip of Oyster Blanc.
To finish off? A quiet walk through grassy dunes to dip toes in the surf among scampering sandpipers. I rarely say no to Dodgem cars, but this was a really good day at the beach.
If you go
Oysters on the go
鈥� Not only can you buy oysters to take back to your beach rental or campsite, Oysterville Sea Farms, on the Oysterville waterfront, has a deck with tables where you can enjoy seafood and a glass of wine when the weather is pleasant. Retail sales 9:30 a.m.-5 p.m. Friday-Sunday (offseason hours); check Facebook page for occasional special openings, or call 360-665-6585. More details at .
鈥� On the east side of Willapa Bay, stop in at The Oystery at Goose Point Oysters, where they provide grills (charcoal, too) for you to barbecue oysters on a deck with umbrella tables overlooking the Niawiakum River. 9 a.m.-5 p.m. daily, September-April; till 6 p.m. in summer; 7081 Niawiakum St., Highway 101, Bay Center; .
Oysterville School lecture series
鈥� The Oysterville School fall lecture series theme is 鈥淐elebrate the River,鈥� with free hour-long talks by local people with special experiences relating to the Columbia River; 10 a.m. Thursdays, Nov. 2 and 16.
Walking tour
Get more information about Oysterville鈥檚 historic-preservation efforts and print out a map and self-guided walking tour of the village at the Oysterville Restoration Foundation website: .
More information
Stop at Long Beach Peninsula Visitors Bureau, 3914 Pacific Way, Seaview, or see .
By car, Oysterville is about 395 kilometres from Victoria.
