Plagues,
Pestilences and Diseases
Deadly Toxic Algae Bloom dooms Texas shellfish and oyster
crop
By Rick Jervis, USA TODAY
PORT LAVACA, Texas – In better days, the loading dock in this East
Texas harbor city would be a bustle of activity: fishermen
unloading sacks filled with fresh oysters, dealers paying by the
sack for the bivalves, 18-wheelers hauling them to Florida,
Virginia and other destinations.
On an afternoon last month, the dock was quiet. A handful of
fishermen lingered by their boats, swapping rumors and lamenting
the fate of their industry.
"We've never seen anything like this before," oysterman David
DeLeon says. "It's never been this bad."
A monstrous bloom of toxic algae looming across the Texas coast
has shut down oyster season. Fueled by Texas' ongoing drought, the
algae — known as Karenia brevis— thrives in warm, salty water and
has spread through the bays and islands along Texas' 350-mile
coast, says Meridith Byrd, a marine biologist for the Texas Parks
and Wildlife Department. The algae could cause nausea, vomiting
and diarrhea in humans and is harmful to fish but not fatal to
people, she says.
State health officials took the rare step of closing the entire
coast for oyster harvesting — all 17,586 acres of oyster beds —
before the season opened Nov. 1. The state has shut down the
entire coast before, most recently in 2000, according to state
health officials. But the size of the current bloom coupled with
the state's ongoing drought and lack of rain could make it one of
the biggest and most destructive in history, Byrd says. The bloom
so far has killed 4.5 million fish, she says.
"We're going to need a significant weather change," Byrd says. "So
far, it's just not happening."
The $30 million Texas oyster industry, having already endured
destruction from Hurricane Ike in 2008, fallout from last year's
BP oil spill and the ongoing statewide drought, today faces one of
its toughest challenges, says Sammy Ray, a shellfish toxicologist
for Texas A&M University-Galveston who has studied oysters for
more than 60 years.
Oysters live in a delicate balance of saltwater and freshwater.
Too much freshwater kills off oysters by the bushel, while water
with too much salt spawns diseases such as the current red tide,
he says.
The "red tide" algae usually live deep offshore and are kept away
from inland waters by freshwater river runoff and rainstorms, Ray
says. With lack of freshwater because of the drought, the red tide
has crept dangerously close to shore.
Even more lethal than the red tide is a parasite known as "dermo"
that is spreading through Texas coastal waters with alarming
speed, Ray says. The parasite is also spawned by the warm, salty
water conditions caused by the drought. Though not harmful to
humans, it's fatal to oysters, he says.
"It's the most I've ever seen of it and in areas I've never seen
it in before," Ray says. "Nothing's going to stop it until we have
a big flood."
The closures are devastating the industry.
Prestige Oysters Inc., of San Leon, Texas, usually has 10 trailer
trucks a day hauling sacks of oysters from their docks, Vice
President Lisa Halili says.
These days, it's down to four or five, with most of the oysters
coming from Louisiana, she says.
The company lost oyster beds and equipment during Ike and saw its
oyster shipments drop significantly when Louisiana's oyster
grounds closed amid last year's oil spill in the Gulf, she says.
But the long-term closure of Texas' coast could be the most
serious blow to the industry, she says.
"Between hurricanes, oil spills and now the red tide, the oysters
have been beaten up pretty bad," Halili says. "There's not going
to be anything left alive out there."
In Port Lavaca, the impacts are felt throughout the coastal city —
from fueling stations to equipment suppliers and the bars and
restaurants that fishermen frequent, says Curtis Miller, owner of
Miller Seafood Co., which processes and ships oysters. The
business, started by his uncle 37 years ago, is down 80% since the
closures, as are others across town, he says.
"People are really suffering," Miller says. "They don't know where
their next meal is coming from."
At the Ed Melcher Hardware store on Main Street, the gloves,
ropes, rubber boots and oyster hatchets that usually fly off the
shelves this time of year gather dust in the front display.
The closures are costing the store $4,000 a month, owner J.C.
Melcher says. During oyster season from November through April,
oyster fishermen account for about one-fourth of store revenue, he
says.
"It trickles everywhere — cafes, grocery stores. Everyone's
hurting," Melcher says.
Fisherman Mauricio Blanco, 39, spent $8,000 on improvements to his
boat in the off-season. Now he's scrambling to find a way to
support his wife and five children. He has cut back expenses,
including holiday shopping, until it looks like the grounds may
reopen.