2-21-25

I have lived along the Pacific Coast for over 40 years and have, during that time, harvested food from its shores and subtidal zone. One of the easiest meals to procure, even on a ride home down Highway 1, has been to collect a couple dozen mussels during the time of the year when there is no threat of them being toxic from consuming the wrong algae (dinoflagellates) which can be present in the summer time waters (months without a r).

Just to be in the zone where mussels exist is a magical experience. They require the ocean’s daily immersion, living in the intertidal zone (the zone between high and low tide). If there is any sort of swell running, the mussels are being doused by almost every wave, making harvesting them a process that usually involves getting a little wet. Sometimes though when the Pacific is calm and the waves small, the mussel beds will be exposed to air during low tides for a number of hours. These are the days when mussel harvesting is easy and the intertidal zone becomes a fascinating area to explore. The amazingly diverse life forms found in the intertidal zone are a testament to earth’s creative process – creatures that must be seen to be believed.

While there on the ocean’s edge one is affected by the moist, scent laden air, charged by the churning waters. Cries of gulls and a myriad of shore birds keep up a lively chatter. Sea lions can often be heard bellowing off in the distance on Lobos Rocks, and the occasional harbor seal will surface to watch as I make my way along the rocks, somehow sensing my presence far before I am aware of it’s.

It used to be that sea otters were always present diving into the depths to select from the sea’s smorgasbord. But since two years of unusually warm ocean temperatures along the coast, there has been a massive kelp bed die off, as well as a massive sea star die off, followed by a proliferation of sea urchins, which seem to eat every new macrocystis sprout before it can make its way to the surface. Things are different now. Sea otters do not have extensive kelp beds to raft up for the night and seem to have taken themselves somewhere new, where conditions are more favorable.

Many of us, who do not spend time observing nature’s ebbs and flows would never be aware of these changes and not realize the results that many of our habits have created a rapidly warming planet and situations which life cannot adapt quickly enough o survive.

To not see otters patrolling along the coast during my visits is a sad thing to me.

Mussels are a favorite food for otters, but are difficult to harvest because they are in the intertidal zone and constantly in the wash of waves.

When I was studying marine biology at Hopkins Marine Station there was an otter that used to follow me in to shore when I came up from a dive. We became such close friends that it would wait at water’s edge on Aggassi Beach, while I ran up to of the sea water tanks to grab an urchin or a mussel to feed it. While clutching whatever I gave it close to its chest, it would dive into the shallow water and return with a rock which it would use to break open the creature. Mussels took a little cracking, while urchins usually only took one well-placed blow.

Mussel communities extend like a carpet across the rocks. It is truly amazing they are able to endure the ocean’s onslaught, especially winter’s buffeting waves. One can stand on the cliffs along the Big Sur coast and watch as 30’ waves break upon the rocks and all the life that holds fast upon their surfaces. There is a community of creatures and algae that seem to delight in what seems like one of the harshest zones on earth.

These communities can withstand the ocean’s powerful onslaught because the life that holds fast forms a continuous, flexible and permeable surface. The waves hit and all share in absorbing the force. Everything moves a little but not enough to be torn from the rocks.

The mussels hold onto the rocks through tough fibers that extend out from between their two shells and adhere to the rock’s surface. They intertwine their fibers with one another. Intermingled with the mussels are goose neck barnacles, and in between and on these two species are a host of other mobile invertebrates.

I never have checked to see if they are still there during the most intense storms, but at the times when I can get onto the rocks to harvest a few mussels they are always there. I carefully remove them off each mussel I harvest, so they can continue to live.

I am very selective about the mussels I choose. I go for the biggest and probably the oldest and  carefully extract them from the colony – one here, one there, but never too many in any one place. In this way the other mussels can still maintain their collective stance – protecting the colony.

Once harvested and taken from their pristine niche, they pull their shell in tightly, with virtually no way to open them. Generally extending out from each closed shell is the network of fibers that once held the mussel to the rock and other mussels.

Once home, all it takes is placing the mussels in a pot of boiling water for 3-7 minutes. The shells open, and the inner flesh is lightly cooked. Some people cook mussels in beer or white wine, but I have found plain water allows for the mussel’s full authentic flavor.

In California, with a valid fishing license, a person can collect 10 pounds of mussels per day. I think a pound is plenty, but I have watched people come to the Big Sur coast with five-gallon buckets and shovels. Once at a mussel laden rock they scrape the mussel colonies away from the rocks surface, denuding the rocks of all the life that was there. These harvesters take everything, including all the other life forms that they won’t eat and probably just discard – seemingly with no consideration for any of those life forms. Certainly, just as we would feel the effects of being torn from our beautiful home, those creatures must feel something as well. With no more life carpeting the rocks, it opens up those surfaces to the ocean’s full force. There is little chance for new life to become established again on these surfaces

It is great to be able to harvest food from our mother earth without having to labor to grow or raise it, but to indiscriminately dismantle an entire ecosystem for a few tasty bites of mussel is reckless and inconsiderate.

Those colonies of life cannot easily reinhabit those bare rock surfaces except after a long and slow process of extending their edges into those now lifeless areas. Over many years, a new community of marine species may be able to resurface those rocks, but how much better it would be to harvest mussels in such a way that we don’t negatively impact those delicate ecozones.

What we love we take care of. Without an understanding of a species life cycle, we cannot fully take into account its needs to continue abundantly. Certainly, our fate is tied up with the rest of the life on the planet.

Wouldn’t it be both fascinating and respectful to understand the other life forms we share this living planet with?

If we understood the marine communities along our beautiful coast and how interconnected they are with everything else, we would be much more careful when it comes to harvesting them for food, but also with every choice we make in our lives. How amazing it would be if we were concerned for the welfare and pure authentic existence of all the other life on this amazing planet.

Why isn’t our attention there? And if it isn’t there, then where is our attention these days?

How much time are you spending outside, getting to know the wild, natural world that you live within and depend on. Do what a wonderful connection we can have with it all?

What we understand we can grow to love and what we love we will take care of.

It is up to each of us to care for the earth, and what a wonderful thing it is to do.

Wishing you best of luck on your fascinating exploration of life.