NOW THAT there is a chill in the air, most boaters are at least thinking about winterizing and pulling their boats from the water. Not Don Sheckells of Shady Side. For him, the season is just beginning.
Each morning about 4:30, Sheckells leaves his cozy bungalow for the trip across his yard to Don-Mar, his 42-foot bay-built oyster boat, and starts his day. He watches dawn break over the Eastern Shore as he steams up the bay to a spot known to watermen as "Hacketts," a public oyster bed where the catch is decent now.
When he arrives, Sheckells, who works alone, tosses two weights, or kellicks, from the stern of his boat to slow the boat but not anchor it. He then sets up his patent tong rig and begins catching oysters. Sheckells drops the tongs with a hydraulic winder and rakes up whatever is on the bottom. He raises the tongs and dumps the contents onto the culling board. He then sifts through the rocks, shells and other debris to find marketable oysters.
"There's a lot less than there used to be," says Sheckells, who has worked these waters for 35 years. "At one time, we went to our limit in three or four hours." Now he won't even catch the limit of 15 bushels, averaging instead about nine bushels before heading for home by way of Parish Creek about 1 p.m.
The steep decline in the oyster harvest has forced most oystermen to find other professions. John Popow of West River worked on the water for seven years, diving for oysters. He teaches fourth-grade math now but misses the beautiful autumn days "on the bar."
"I worked the areas where the tongers had given up, filling metal milk crates oyster by oyster. Some days the water was so clear it was beautiful, then sometimes it would be so murky you couldn't see your hand in front of your face," recalls Popow.
Popow recently completed training to be an "oyster gardener" at the Chesapeake Bay Foundation. He says that he would like seeing the oyster beds rebuilt so others can earn a living on the water.
"We have to just try to hold on and let Mother Nature regroup," says Sheckells, who has seen the season shortened from all months with the letter R to October through March. He is looking at another bad year for the oyster harvest. "After Christmas, it's going to be all over, just like last year," he said.
Sheckells supplements his oystering income by running what he calls "the smallest shucking house on the Western Shore."
After he returns from the bar, Sheckells shucks oysters and waits for his wife to return from work. Margaret Nowell Sheckells is the daughter and granddaughter of watermen. She knows oysters.
"The secret to our oysters, is that we shuck them in their liquor - no water is added," says Margaret, who packs the oysters caught and shucked by Don.
Margaret also offers her customers at Sheckells Shuckers a time-tested recipe for an oyster omelet. It is delicious, she says, when made with fresh oysters. She has one thing to say to people who balk at the idea of eggs and oysters: "Don't knock it till you try it."
The Shuckers' Omelet
1 pt. fresh oysters
6 eggs, scrambled
4 stalks of celery, chopped fine
1/2 sweet onion, chopped
1/4 stick of butter
1 Tbs. Old Bay seasoning
4 strips of bacon, cooked and broken into pieces.
Salt and pepper
Drain oysters and cut into little pieces, save liquor. Cook onion and celery in butter and oyster liquor in a frying pan until tender. Add oysters, Old Bay and salt and pepper to taste. Once the oysters curl, add eggs and bacon until omelet is done.