Not long after recreational boaters and the boys of summer haul their boats out of the water, an oysterman and his boat are just getting called into duty. As the winter winds start to blow, George Daniels mornings will begin at 5:30 and this Wanchese oysterman will not accept too many reasons to pass up a day on the water during prime season. Oystering season opens in mid-November and depending on the year, he will run his 32-foot boat until March.

Over the past 40 years, this 67-year-old native can remember howling winds, icy waterways and grounded boats all in the name of a day’s catch. Daniels recalls years when ice covered the creek that runs through his backyard. His creek is the pathway that leads to the best oystering spots on the Outer Banks. “We’ve had to cut through the ice,” says Daniels, who runs his oyster operation with his second cousin, Jeff Thompson. “When no one else would go, we went.” The winters, he says, are not as harsh as they used to be, but it can still get bitter cold out on the water. Thompson lives across the street from Daniels in the sleepy fishing village of Wanchese. On these streets, nearly every yard has the signs of a waterman’s world – seasoned boats, crab pots, fishing nets.

This waterman certainly knows what hard work is. As a boy, Daniels’ left arm was left paralyzed after a car accident on the beach, but that limitation has not stopped him from a lifetime of physically demanding careers. He worked as a draw bridge operator at Baum Bridge for 30 years but he always took the night shift at the bridge to accommodate both jobs during oyster season. Now, during the off-season, Daniels runs a lawn care business. “Because of my arm, I think I have to work twice as hard to get by, but I do the best I can,” he says.

When the season opens, oystermen typically start harvesting at Crab Slough (pronounced, “slew”). Oysters from Crab Slough have a reputation of being among the best, saltiest oysters in the world and are likely to contain the golden-colored, tiny pea crabs living inside the oyster shell. As those beds stop producing, the harvesters move to Crab Hole, which can have more turbulent waters. “If it’s blowing between 25 and 30 mph, it’s bad,” Daniels says of Crab Hole.

Out on the boat, there is little time for rest. In fact, oystermen have about 15 minutes for lunch and the rest of the time, they are dredging, culling and sorting through oysters. While Daniels loves eating oysters, he doesn’t eat as many as he once did. “Occasionally, I’ll shuck one out on the boat and eat it raw.”

Daniels will tell stories of earlier years as he walks around his boat in the backyard canal. He has fond memories of earlier years when crewmen fried up oysters out on the water and handed them out to a passing boat. And he recalls days when a fellow oysterman had feet so cold, he had to warm them over the boat engine. Daniels also recalls a particular day when the steering broke on the boat and he and Thompson ran aground on a shoal at Hell’s Gate, near Oregon Inlet.

Some years, the catch is good. Some years, it’s not so good. Daniels remembers a time when there were no regulations: you could stay out on the water as long as you were able and there was no such thing as harvest limits. Now, an oysterman is only allowed to catch until 2 pm and is restricted to 15 bushels per day. His father told stories of days when bushels sold for 50 cents and Daniels himself remembers when a bushel would go for five dollars in the 1970s. Compare that to last season’s retail prices of $60-65 per bushel, with an oysterman’s take being only a small portion of that.

Daniels came into oystering the same way many natives on the Outer Banks did. He learned it from his daddy. He has spent time on the water with many of the original local oystermen, like local legend “Jug Head” Etheridge, as well as John Calvin and Stevie Payne. There aren’t too many of the original watermen left but Daniels hopes to stay out on the water as long as he can because, “It’s in my blood; I don’t like to sit around the house, either.” Daniels and his wife, Dearlone, used to sell oysters in their backyard but now they mostly sell to Carawan Seafood in Kitty Hawk now. There are good years and bad years, Daniels admits. That’s the nature of the business. His two daughters, now grown have harvested oysters with him a few times but were not drawn to the fishery. One time when he took his daughter, Heather out “it was blowing so hard and cold, snowing off and on, I think it broke her of it.” When he took out his other daughter, Angie, she spent most of her time in the cabin because it was so cold. “Her coat caught on fire from a small stove in there.”Oystering, he said, “is rough going.”

Finally Daniels adds, “I haven’t decided whether I am going to go out this season or not. My mind says yes, but sometimes my body isn’t so sure. When I come home from a day of oystering, I am sore all over. I may be getting too old.”

Out on the boat, there is little time for rest. In fact, oystermen have about 15 minutes for lunch and the rest of the time, they are dredging, culling and sorting through oysters. While Daniels loves eating oysters, he doesn’t eat as many as he once did. “Occasionally, I’ll shuck one out on the boat and eat it raw.”

Daniels will tell stories of earlier years as he walks around his boat in the backyard canal. He has fond memories of earlier years when crewmen fried up oysters out on the water and handed them out to a passing boat. And he recalls days when a fellow oysterman had feet so cold, he had to warm them over the boat engine. Daniels also recalls a particular day when the steering broke on the boat and he and Thompson ran aground on a shoal at Hell’s Gate, near Oregon Inlet.

Some years, the catch is good. Some years, it’s not so good. Daniels remembers a time when there were no regulations: you could stay out on the water as long as you were able and there was no such thing as harvest limits. Now, an oysterman is only allowed to catch until 2 pm and is restricted to 15 bushels per day. His father told stories of days when bushels sold for 50 cents and Daniels himself remembers when a bushel would go for five dollars in the 1970s. Compare that to last season’s retail prices of $60-65 per bushel, with an oysterman’s take being only a small portion of that.

Daniels came into oystering the same way many natives on the Outer Banks did. He learned it from his daddy. He has spent time on the water with many of the original local oystermen, like local legend “Jug Head” Etheridge, as well as John Calvin and Stevie Payne. There aren’t too many of the original watermen left but Daniels hopes to stay out on the water as long as he can because, “It’s in my blood; I don’t like to sit around the house, either.” Daniels and his wife, Dearlone, used to sell oysters in their backyard but now they mostly sell to Carawan Seafood in Kitty Hawk now. There are good years and bad years, Daniels admits. That’s the nature of the business. His two daughters, now grown have harvested oysters with him a few times but were not drawn to the fishery. One time when he took his daughter, Heather out “it was blowing so hard and cold, snowing off and on, I think it broke her of it.” When he took out his other daughter, Angie, she spent most of her time in the cabin because it was so cold. “Her coat caught on fire from a small stove in there.”Oystering, he said, “is rough going.”

Finally Daniels adds, “I haven’t decided whether I am going to go out this season or not. My mind says yes, but sometimes my body isn’t so sure. When I come home from a day of oystering, I am sore all over. I may be getting too old.” ♦

You love ’em raw, steamed, roasted and fried, but if you’ve been looking for some something different to do with oysters, look no further! Here are a few local oyster recipes for your culinary pleasure!  

Author: Michelle Wagner

Michelle Wagner has been living and writing on the Outer Banks for over 15 years.