We have to talk about the smell.
Standing next to a trailer full of oyster shells collected from restaurants around the city, the smell of discarded, uncleaned shells is briny and dank, the evil olfactory ghost of someone’s decadent meal.
“I learned along the way how not to get any of that stuff on me,” said Bryan Luce, Natural Resources Technician, as he flipped open the lid of a blue bin of oyster shells from the lot next to Fleet Landing.
Luce had just emptied four 220-pound bins from the restaurant as part of the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources’ (SCDNR) oyster recycling program.
With a swift glance at the bin’s contents, Luce pulled out a black plastic food handler’s glove and two forks.
“I have quite a nice set of cutlery somewhere from my rounds,” he joked, as he looked for anything else not recyclable that had made its way into the bins.
Luce hefted the bin onto a lift arm that raises it to the top of the trailer and tips it to empty. He used a rake to spread the shells evenly on the trailer bed, sprayed the empty bin with a mixture of Simple Green and water (“it helps keep the flies away,” he explained) and replaced the bin, covering it with the lid.
“We got four bins there,” he said, making a note on his phone as part of his job for the SCDNR’s South Carolina Oyster Recycling & Enhancement (SCORE) program.
From restaurant to reef
“We collect recycling from 40-plus restaurants around Charleston,” said Holly Sommers, SCDNR’s Oyster Shell Recycling and Planting Program Coordinator. “It’s free to them, and we are always trying to enlist more restaurants. Last year, we collected more than 38,000 bushels of shells.”
In the ancient, bouncy truck, Luce continued the route, heading to the ugly alleys behind some of the city’s nicest restaurants and repeating the process, making notes each time.
Delaney Oyster House: 10 bins; Coast: three bins; The Darling; 20 bins; The Ordinary: 5.5 bins; Leon’s Oyster House: 20 bins.
By this time, the trailer was full and Luce headed to a port in North Charleston, the dumping ground for the shells.
“That’s last year’s shells,” he said, pointing to a small hill of shells. “They’re about ready to go back out.”
He pulled up to a mountain of shells and pressed a button to release a waterfall of shells from the back of the trailer onto the mountain. Here, in the open air, there was almost no smell.
Luce explained that was because volunteers come every week to hand-sort the shells, cleaning debris as they go. The rest of the work is done by nature; in the year these shells will sit here, the sun, rain, flies and bacteria will consume any stray bits of oyster or food, leaving the shells almost pristine.
“We couldn’t do this without the volunteers, the restaurants and other partners, and the Coastal Conservation Association (CCA),” Sommers said. “Since 2001, when the program started, (more than) 48,000 volunteers have donated (more than) 109,000 hours. And the CCA has donated $160,000 in equipment, and they’re funding materials to construct 11 public drop-off bins.”
Once the shells have sat long enough to be rid of bacteria and the water is at least 68 degrees, the shells are either placed in a bag or on a volunteer-constructed wire reef that is dropped in the water near the coast to build up habitat, replanted along the marsh sides or planted loose on state-managed waterways, depending on the SCDNR’s analysis of where shell is needed. A small boat follows the loose released shells, using a pool net to scoop up any trash that may have evaded nature and the volunteers.
More to do
At the dump, Luce has climbed back into the driver’s seat to continue his route and fill up the trailer again. He said he drives about 100 miles a day.
On the way out, Luce pointed at another pile of shells.
“See that pile over there? That’s shells we’ve had to buy — I think from Louisiana — because we can’t get enough shells on our own,” Luce said.
Sommers said that the goal was to collect enough shells locally from wherever oysters are being eaten to meet the needs of the SCDNR’s determination of what’s required to protect the coastline each year.
“You know,” he mused, “it’s not really recycling. When you recycle a Coke can, you don’t get a Coke can back, you get something else. But with oyster shells, you get back more oysters and shells. It’s more like replanting than recycling. They get to have another life.”
Help keep the City Paper free.
No paywalls.
No subscription cost.
Free delivery at 800 locations.
Help support independent journalism by donating today.
