Bay Area family uses two methods to grow this shellfish. The resulting fresh-tasting product is worth the envy of East Coast fishers. : OYSTERS

“This is a good life if you don’t mind the cold, the wet and the odd hours,” said Ben Johnson while maneuvering a weather-beaten, paint-chipped boat in one of California’s most scenic and isolated ocean inlets.

In an alcove of the Point Reyes National Seashore, Johnson and his extended family raise some of the sweetest, freshest-tasting oysters on the West Coast . . . maybe in the country.

The Johnson Oyster Co. is one of only a handful in the state that is farming this celebrated shellfish with a success ratio worth the envy of East Coast fishermen and marine biologists plying the Chesapeake Bay’s oyster haven. The family has maintained an oyster farm here since 1958, and the operation spreads over more than 1,100 acres of water.

Johnson second-naturedly motors about the bay pointing out the various areas and methods of commercially growing oysters with one hand on the outboard’s tiller and the other clasping a cigarette. Thirty years of work in this coastal refuge have not dulled Johnson’s Missouri twang, but have certainly contributed to an occasional spell of orneriness.

“This is one of the hardest bays to work I’ve ever been at. It’s cold, windy and shallow. The cold wind blows day and night this time of year. The wind never lets up,” he said while zipping an insulated jacket a bit higher. “And when you work with the (bay’s) tides there are odd hours.”

Despite Johnson’s criticism, this area of California, about 70 miles north of San Francisco, appears to be a beautiful setting. Virgin green, grass- and brush-covered bluffs slope gently into thin slivers of sandy beach untouched by the armies of tourists and weekenders traversing two-lane roads several miles away.

The Johnsons, including brother Tom, father Charles and a long list of in-laws, nephews and the like, lease the necessary land and bay from the federally operated park. The area’s protected status ensures that real estate development will elude this part of the coast and that the oysters can grow undisturbed except for an occasional predatory crab or starfish.

The dramatic ocean setting is only part of the Johnson Oyster Co.’s appeal. The firm’s ramshackle processing area and sales counter is a celebrated stop for seasoned Point Reyes visitors. The oysters and the Johnsons’ personalities are near-legendary despite being well off of Highway 1 and accessible only by a twisting, dirt road.

The vast portion of the estimated 65,000 gallons of shucked oyster meat sold by the Johnsons each year are tossed to customers over a makeshift metal counter housed in a shed. The remaining 15% or so is distributed to Bay Area restaurants and markets.

On an average weekday afternoon, several visitors crowd the slight wooden structure, buying oysters in three versions: whole, shelled and packed in jars, or the irresistible oyster cocktails for only $1. On weekends the place is likely to be wild and crowded.

The place reached a frenzy the Saturday before the 1985 Super Bowl when fans of the San Francisco 49ers descended upon the shed in a non-stop procession to purchase oysters to barbecue during tailgate picnics the day of the game played in Palo Alto.

“It was the darnedest thing I’ve ever seen,” said Johnson, who sold a record 130,000 oysters that day.

Although barbecuing oysters seems to be a popular Northern Californian preparation, there are many who lack the self control needed to transport and enjoy the oysters at home on the grill. They simply splash lemon juice and hot sauce atop a few cocktails and savor these sweet, sprite seafood morsels on the spot.

However, the Johnsons have not designed their compound for the comfort of guests or customers. There are no picnic tables or soft drinks available. A lone, scraggly pine provides the only shade among a series of buildings and mobile homes where many employees live. The remnants of countless shells litter the lot.

Nevertheless, the Johnson oyster is praised for its flavor, an accomplishment due to the growing techniques developed over the years by the family and the algae found in this area upon which the shellfish feed.

“We’ve learned a lot (about oyster farming) the hard way,” Johnson said. “For instance, you can’t raise oysters on the bottom in California because the stingrays and crabs will eat you up. We lost a hell of a lot in the first few years growing on the bottom.”

Keeping the oysters from the bottom turned out to be a blessing for the company. By suspending the shellfish from wires on wooden racks or attached to iron stakes, the bivalves are kept in a clean, constantly circulating sea current apart from the sediment, dirt and other undesirable items lurking on the bay’s floor.

Mild, Clean Taste

Johnson attributes the unique flavor of his oysters to this off-bottom method. The oysters from this bay do, in fact, have a mild, clean taste and a wonderful color. One gourmet magazine reviewed Western farm-grown oysters, such as the Johnsons’, and called the breed “exquisite.”

Asked if he’s eaten a better oyster than the one that carries his name, Johnson hesitates, and then says that there haven’t been many. Pressed on the issue, he can only think of the plump, rich, Japanese Kumamoto oyster as superior.

In fact, the bivalves grown by the Johnson Oyster Co. are not original inhabitants of these waters. This strain was imported from Japan in the 1930s to replace the native species, which was decimated along the West Coast by either overfishing or pollution. This relatively new imported strain is now commonly referred to as the Pacific oyster.

One of the many steps to raising oysters in California is purchasing seed from a distant hatchery because the state’s coastal waters are normally too cold for the shellfish to spawn. The oyster seed, just a touch larger than microscopic, are then nurtured in each farm’s warm water tanks until prepared for placement in the bay.

Most oyster farms on the West Coast purchase seed from the Coast Oyster Co.’s hatchery in Quilcene, Wash. The hatchery produces about 15 billion oyster larvae annually for its own farms and others in Washington, Oregon and California.

Technique Differs in East

This technique differs from methods in the Eastern United States, where fishermen have depended upon the oyster beds naturally replenishing each year. This wishful thinking continues even in the face of continual declines in the number of oysters harvested from places such as the Chesapeake Bay. Only recently have Eastern oystermen examined the techniques at West Coast hatcheries.

“There are natural oyster beds in the East and a natural supply of seed,” said Jim Donaldson, Coast Oyster Co.’s hatchery manager. “They (East Coast oyster beds) need hatcheries, but they haven’t developed them and will have to set up commercial hatcheries in the future.”

At present, only 15% of the U.S. oyster production originates from Pacific Ocean-based farms, but setbacks in the East may change the ratio. For instance, a recent report indicated that Chesapeake Bay oyster harvests, a quarter of the nation’s total, declined 50% since 1974 to its current level of about 2 million gallons of shucked meat. A separate overview of West Coast production placed the 1984 harvest at more than 830,000 gallons.

New Types Developed

In addition to supplying seed, hatcheries are also developing new strains of oyster in hopes of genetically engineering a fast-growing, plump shellfish, something such as a cross between the prized Kumamoto and the Pacific oyster.

In the meantime, the Johnson Oyster Co. continues to increase its production at an annual rate of 20% using two methods. The rack process involves placing long plastic ropes with oyster shells attached at six-inch intervals into the warm-water tanks, where the oyster seed is growing. The seed eventually attaches to the shells. Then the cord and shells, now covered with baby oysters, are transported to, and hung from, long wooden racks in the bay.

“We’re the only ones on the West Coast that (raise oysters) this way,” Johnson said. Having brought this approach to American oyster farming does not prompt Johnson to claim any scientific titles.

“I’m an oyster farmer--not an aquaculturalist. That’s when you raise abalone or something,” he said.

A second method used by the company finds the oyster seeds attached to shells, which are then fastened to 30-inch iron stakes. The stakes are then placed in the shallow parts of the bay.

The oysters require about 18 months of growth before reaching market size, which is about 30% faster than similar operations in Washington state. Harvesting the stakes or ropes of fully grown oysters is a labor-intensive effort requiring a crew of six.

When the oysters are ready for harvest, the plastic ropes loaded with shells can weigh 150 pounds each. Crew members straddle the wooden racks and then raise each string from the bay. It’s passed from one crew member to another and then rested on a barge.

The Johnsons stagger their crops so that there are one or two barges being unloaded at the processing plant daily. One of the more entertaining aspects of the operation is to watch the 12 shuckers open the oysters at a rate of four to five per minute. The room where the oysters are opened is silent except for the sound of metal blades clicking against shell.

Each of the Johnsons is quick to comment on oyster myths and lore. The company even publishes a brochure listing answers to the most frequently asked questions.

The first is that these are not pearl oysters and thus no cheap necklaces are available. Another is that all used shells are recycled as growing platforms for the next generations of oysters. Finally, there is the matter of whether eating oysters actually increases sexual desire.

“Oysters are definitely an aphrodisiac,” said Tom Johnson, with a slight grin. “People come in all the time and say it is an aphrodisiac, so I believe them.”