TOP: Angela Corridore at a shellfish 

 closure near the Duke Marine Lab in 

 Beaufort. Her master's study brought 

 attention to the impacts of such closures 

 on those who make an income fishing for 

 oysters and clams. BOTTOM: Raymond 

 Graham, a shellfish dealer from Mill 

 Creek, sees the link to his family's 

 heritage wearing thin as closures threaten 

 the livelihoods of younger shellfishers. 



THE WAY 

 IT WAS — 

 AND IS 



Raymond 

 Graham, a former 

 member of an 

 advisory 

 committee for the 

 N.C. Marine 

 Fisheries 

 Commission, 

 focuses on the 

 present but 

 doesn't forget the 

 past. It's a trait 

 that is evident in 

 his speech. "And that's the way it is," is his 

 frequent summation of things. 



And "the way it is" is very much a 

 product of how it was. 



The first dollar Graham ever made, he 

 says, was culling 20 bushels of oysters one 

 Saturday when he was around nine. 

 Before that, the most he had earned was 

 75 cents for a whole week "working in 

 beans," so the dollar earned in a single 

 day made an impression. He may not 

 remember what he did with the money, but 

 Graham does recall, "I looked at it a long 

 time." 



Graham also shoveled oysters for his 

 father, he says. On Saturdays he would get 

 25 cents for movies and popcorn. John 

 Wayne was a favorite. 



"Everybody went to Beaufort by boat, 

 and tied up at the hardware store," he 

 says, recalling Beaufort as a working 

 fishing village. "Fruits and vegetables were 

 left out all night (by merchants), and the 

 town smelled like a fish. All of Front Street 

 is now a tourist attraction." 



These days, when waters are closed 

 to shellfishing, Graham's love of movies 

 serves him well. "Shutdowns are just 

 another Sunday," he says with irony. "You 

 sit down, eat and watch some movies." 



"Where closures hurt us," he explains, 

 "is not being able to consistently fill orders. 

 We used to handle eight or nine hundred 

 bushels a week. Now if a man wants 1 

 bushels of oysters, we can't promise we 

 can get 1 bushels, because we can't be 

 sure we'll be open. We lost our credibility." 



In its heyday, Graham's business 



included Campbell's Soup in Maryland. 

 Back then, he could handle more clams in 

 a week than he does now in a month. 



The business was a family legacy. 

 "When Granddaddy got old, he worked 

 for Daddy. And when Daddy got old, he 

 worked for me," Graham says. 



"Mother opened oysters and took 

 care of the oyster house. Mom was in her 

 70s before she quit." 



Now, with the oyster house closed 

 and shellfishing providing only part of his 

 son's income, the generational link to 

 shellfishing is wearing thin. "A young 

 fellow would have to be out of his mind to 

 want to get into this business," Graham 

 says. 



Because few depend solely on 

 shellfishing for a living, the economic 

 impact of closures could be considered 

 small, Corridore says. "The social impact, 

 however, may be quite large because, as 

 fewer people are able to rely on 

 shellfishing for a living, there may be a 

 gradual loss of a local cultural heritage," 

 she concludes. 



And the culture of shellfishing is 

 doubtless a part of the melange that is the 

 state's collective identity. 



DMF's Marshall recalls his father 

 bringing oysters from the coast home to 

 Rocky Mount for oyster roasts each fall. "It - 

 was comparable to a pig picking," he 

 says. "It used to be a big social event. It's 

 sad that we're losing that as a social 

 activity here on the coast." 



Now, at Mill Creek's annual oyster 

 festival, the oysters come from Louisiana. 



"I'm not doing 25 percent of the 

 business I did 10 years ago. When I do, 

 I have to compete with oysters from 

 Louisiana," Graham says. 



Skip Kemp, North Carolina Sea 

 Grant mariculture specialist, says, 

 "Shellfish closures also affect shellfish 

 farms, especially if a closure is immedi- 

 ately before a holiday when the market is 

 strong." 



Mariculturists who lease beds may 

 hold onto shellfish until demand is strong 

 and prices are higher, Kemp adds. Thus 

 they miss out on potential profits when 

 closures occur during peak demand. 



Continued 



COASTWATCH 19 



