Extreme Frontiers: Racing Across Canada from Newfoundland to the Rockies Read Online Free PDF Page B

plant and explained that the shellfish were keptoffshore, with the market harvesting only what they were going to ship right away.
    The place was incredible; it smelled just like the ocean, with crates of oysters being soaked in a constant stream of water.
     According to John, it was all about the water; the best oysters are kept in the best water, and the water off Prince Edward
     Island is second to none. It’s a labour-intensive business, mind you, running that kind of seafood market. There is little
     or no machinery; all the work is done by hand, because oysters have to be nurtured.
    They’re brought ashore in a raw state by the fishermen, and once they’re at Carr’s, they’re sorted, dipped in lime, then returned
     to the water in what are called private beds. Over the next fourteen days they’re regularly handled and tested to make sure
     they’re of the highest quality. Apparently there are two types of oyster, standard and choice. The choice one is smaller and
     fuller in the shell, and according to John, a little easier to shuck. John introduced us to Philip, whose job it is to grade
     the oysters, and he told me the work is so intensive he even dreams about shellfish at night.
    Hopping into a dinghy, we headed out to the private beds. (Now might be a good time to remind you that I actually hate boats;
     I’m not good at sea. And yet I’d done nothing but hop from one boat to another ever since I got here.) These beds, dotted
     all around the bay, are where they re-lay the oysters. Philip used a pair of massive tongs that looked like two garden rakes
     stuck together to bite into the seabed and bring up the catch he had re-laid a few days before. Now I could see just how tough
     a job this is. There’s money to be made, of course, but only if you can sell your oysters, and that all depends on the quality.
     I had a go with the tongs. I could feel the shells through the mud with the prongs,but getting them up in any number was another matter altogether. I know I was born to eat oysters, I’m just not sure I was
     born to catch them, you know what I mean? Compared with catching lobsters even, this seemed like seriously hard graft, and
     after just two attempts my arms were killing me.
    I asked Gordon what he thought was the best way to eat oysters, given that he was an expert.
    ‘Naked,’ he said. ‘Right out of the water and shucked from the shell, with maybe a squeeze of lemon juice.’
    ‘Naked,’ I repeated, laughing. ‘For a minute there I thought you meant
I
should be naked.’
    ‘Naked with your lady maybe,’ he said. ‘Yeah, you could do that. Get a little bit of zing going, huh?’
    ‘Yeah, well. You know what they say about oysters.’
    He was right, of course. Straight from the shell was best, although I have been known to sprinkle the odd one with a hint
     of Tabasco. While we were joking, Philip brought up the mother of all oysters – way bigger than the choice ones he had re-laid.
     It was enormous, and when Gordon got his knife out and shucked the shell, the meat inside was big and fleshy, oily like an
     egg white.
    ‘You want it, Charley?’ he asked me.
    ‘You know what?’ I said. ‘I think it’s too big. If I ate that I’d probably hurl.’
    ‘OK.’ He looked at me, smiling. ‘I reckon it must be fifteen years old, but I’ve got to do it.’ So he sucked it down. Eyes
     watering, with half of it dangling down his chin, he chewed hard and finally swallowed it. ‘Pretty large,’ he said, grimacing.
     ‘One of the biggest I’ve ever eaten.’ Then he chucked the shell into the sea, as was customary. ‘Jeez,’ he said. ‘That was
     a gagger for sure.’
    Philip shucked me a much smaller and more delicate oyster and it was really good, full of the taste of the sea; shucked and
     chucked and eaten right there on the boat. They don’t come much fresher than that.
    Back at the dock, it was on the bikes again, with Gordon leading the way to John’s restaurant. It’s