ALONG THE OYSTER COAST : An Appetizing Odyssey Leads Writer to Discover a Bivalve Heaven on the Pristine Shores of Willapa Bay

He was a bold man who first ate an oyster. --Jonathan Swift.

I’ve got this thing about oysters. Quilcene. Kumamoto. Westcott Bay. Olympia. On the half shell, raw, cooked or creamed, you name it, I’ve eaten it: massage-my-palate, velvet-on-my-tongue, melt-in-my-mouth oysters.

I knew that one of the hardest things to leave behind, when I moved to Los Angeles from Seattle last year, would be the seafood of the Pacific Northwest--especially my beloved bivalve.

So before I headed south, I rewarded myself with a pilgrimage to Willapa Bay, the southwestern Washington breeding grounds of what some folks consider America’s finest oyster. It was late March, and I’d catch the end-of-the-season harvest.

The largest “unpopulated” estuary in the continental United States--that is, the largest tidal inlet outside Alaska without a major population center on its shores--Willapa Bay (emphasis on the will ) offers perfect conditions for oyster farming. The cold Japan Current that traces this coastline and the almost total lack in Willapa Bay of such pollutants as sewage or chemicals make mollusks here far safer for raw consumption than those originating, say, from the Gulf of Mexico, oyster farmers claim.

“Willapa Bay is probably one of the best places you can get oysters,” said Tim Smith of the Pacific Coast Oyster Growers Assn.

Still, officials at the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta, Ga., warn against eating raw oysters. “People who have chronic illnesses such as liver or gastrointestinal diseases, especially, as well as children, elderly, pregnant women and persons with AIDS should stay away from raw shellfish,” said Dr. John Townes.

Not falling into any of these categories, and never one to shy away from risks, I thought back to the adage that oysters should not be eaten in any month whose name lacks an “r”--May, June, July or August. As March approached April, if tradition held, I was still “safe.”

Willapa Bay oysters are distinguished from those of the same species (Crassostrea gigas) elsewhere in the Pacific Northwest by their deep, multicolored shells. Around Willapa’s 70-mile coastline are villages such as Tokeland, Bay Center and Oysterville that derive their sole income from the mollusk. Roadside mountains of empty shells are evidence of their success.

Washington’s southwestern coast has several claims to fame. Meriwether Lewis and William Clark concluded their 18-month exploration of western North America in 1805 near the site of the modern town of Ilwaco, at the northern entrance to the Columbia River. More than 1 million migratory shorebirds stop off each spring to feed in the exposed mud flats of Willapa Bay and Grays Harbor. Aberdeen, the main city of this region (Pop. about 16,000), has become known in recent years as the hometown of Kurt Cobain, lead singer of the “grunge rock” super-group Nirvana.

This was not, however, the nirvana I was seeking. The perfect oyster would bring my personal peace. And I had only one weekend to find it.

Why, then the world’s mine oyster Which I with sword will open. --William Shakespeare

*

I began my exploration in Aberdeen, heading south from the city on U.S. 101. This is the same route whose southern end, some 1,200 miles on, is the Hollywood Freeway; but here, it winds through evergreen forests.

At the point where 101 crosses the Willapa River, the main tributary to Willapa Bay, lie the neighboring lumber towns of Raymond and South Bend. The latter was the home of Helen Davis, composer of the state anthem, “Washington, My Home,” a song so . . . er . . . stirring that even state legislators have conspired for years to have it replaced by “Louie Louie.” More significantly, it is the site of the Coast Oyster Co., the largest oyster-processing plant in the United States.

Oyster farming began in Willapa Bay in the 1870s. Around the turn of the 20th Century, thousands of Atlantic oysters from Chesapeake Bay were planted in the estuary, but disease destroyed the crop in 1919. Hardier Pacific oysters from Japan were introduced five years later, and they have flourished to this day. Even when the Great Depression caused Willapa Bay lumber mills to grind to a halt, oyster processing continued strong.

One of the idiosyncrasies of oysters--one reason they are sometimes ascribed with aphrodisiac powers--is their sexual ambivalence. An oyster can be male one season, female the next season . . . or, for that matter, the next week.

The Coast Oyster Co. is one of two oyster processors (the other is Westcott Bay Oysters, on San Juan Island) at the vanguard of a revolutionary University of Washington experiment to desexualize oysters: to implant them with a third chromosome, causing them not to spawn and to retain a consistent flavor throughout the year. This would theoretically cancel out the summer months not considered ideal for oysters. The jury is still out on whether the experiment will be a biological, let alone commercial, success.

During my pass through South Bend, I had hoped to tour the plant, which is on the bay side of U.S. 101 and marked by the requisite mountain of shucked oyster shells. I learned, however, that visitors are accommodated only by group appointment, or on special occasions such as the annual Oyster Stampede festival over Memorial Day weekend.

Although I couldn’t sample an oyster at Coast Oyster, I settled for the next-best thing. They were served next door at The Boondocks, a quarter-century-old restaurant with an outdoor deck on pilings over the river. My server recommended the pan-fried oysters, lightly breaded. They were delicious.

Twelve miles southwest of South Bend, I detoured about a mile into Bay Center, a tiny unincorporated community on an off-the-beaten-track peninsula that juts into Willapa Bay. There, I discovered the Blue Heron Inn. Although I had just inhaled six bivalves in South Bend, the mound of misshapen shells outside and the fresh crab and smoked salmon counter inside convinced me that I probably shouldn’t miss the oysters here. My half-dozen mollusks, served raw on the half shell with just a squeeze of fresh lemon, were superb.

Dark was almost upon the coast when I arrived to claim a room at The Historic Sou’wester Lodge in Seaview, at the south end of the Long Beach Peninsula. After getting settled in my cedar-shingled housekeeping cabin at the edge of the dunes, I strolled half a mile up the coastal highway for dinner at The Shoalwater Restaurant in the Shelburne Country Inn. Perhaps the finest restaurant on the Washington coast, the Shoalwater combines Victorian ambience with sophisticated Northwest cuisine. Not yet shellfished-out, I started with a remarkable mussel chowder, then gorged myself on wild mushroom fettuccine.

O Oysters, come and walk with us! But answer came there none. And this was scarcely odd, because They’d eaten every one. --Lewis Carroll

*

The following morning I continued my oyster hunting on the 28-mile-long, two-mile-wide Long Beach Peninsula, which separates Willapa Bay from the Pacific Ocean. Visiting Portlanders and Seattleites have been attracted for more than a century by its ocean beach, the longest and broadest sandy strand north of Mendocino County, Calif.

I found The Ark about a dozen miles up the peninsula, on the other side of the Long Beach cranberry bogs. In October and November, when the annual harvest takes place, these fields are a beehive of activity. Now, they were as silent as the modern-day middens of shells piled high beside the Nahcotta dock. The restaurant stood nearby with an expansive view of Willapa Bay, opposite a small oyster-processing company. I decided this would be the perfect place to enjoy my final dinner--an “all-you-can-eat” oyster feed recommended by locals--before driving back to Seattle.

First, though, there was one more community to explore: Oysterville, another two miles north. Founded in 1854, this National Historic District looked like a Nantucket village straight out of “Moby Dick,” from the Old Church on the Village Green to the row of shore-side homes.

It was just a short walk up Territory Road to Oysterville Sea Farms, at the old village cannery extending on pilings into the bay. Posted on the gray clapboard building, a handwritten sign advertised: “OYSTERS. $3 A DOZEN.” Twelve Willapa Bay bivalves, fresh off the boat.

My precious purchase in hand, I hurried to the Oysterville general store to buy two more essentials: an oyster knife and a lemon. Then I sat down by the bay and, forcing the blade through the hinge of the shell, slowly shucked each oyster, giving the body a short squeeze of citrus before depositing it like velvet on my tongue, massaging my palate and melting in my mouth.

They were plump and sweet, not too salty. Could nirvana be any more satisfying than this?

GUIDEBOOK

Nirvana on the Half Shell

Getting there: Fly to Seattle-Tacoma or Portland, where you can rent a car for your trip.Lowest round-trip air fare from LAX to Seattle or Portland is $158 via Alaska or Reno Air, $160 via Delta, Mark Air or United. Lowest fare flying into one city and out of the other is $174.

If you’re driving from Seattle, exit Interstate 5 on U.S. 101 north at Olympia. After six miles, Washington 8 forks west, joining U.S. 12 in Elma and proceeding into Aberdeen, 95 miles from Sea-Tac Airport. Take 101 south another 85 miles from Aberdeen to Long Beach. From Portland, take I-5 north to Kelso; turn west on Washington 4 and follow the Columbia River west toward Long Beach, 140 miles from Portland.

Where to stay: Lytle House Bed & Breakfast, 509 Chenault St., Hoquiam, Wash. 98550; tel. (206) 533-2320. An eight-room Victorian charmer; $65-$105 double.

The Shelburne Country Inn, P.O. Box 250, Highway 103 at 46th Place, Seaview, Wash.98644; tel. (206) 642-2442 fax (206) 642-8904. This venerable 16-room bed-and-breakfast hotel sets the standard for others on the coast; $85-$155.

The Historic Sou’wester Lodge, P.O. Box 102, Beach Access Road, 38th Place, Seaview, Wash. 98644; tel. (206) 642-2542. A budget traveler’s delight, with a variety of accommodations. Twenty-five units; $31-$99.

Where to eat: The Boondocks, 1015 W. Robert Bush Drive (U.S. 101), South Bend; tel. (206) 875-5155. Entrees run $6-$17.

Blue Heron Inn, Second Street, Bay Center; tel. (206) 875-9990. Entrees $5-$14.

Shoalwater Restaurant, Shelburne Country Inn, Highway 103 at 46th Place, Seaview; tel. (206) 642-4142. Entrees $14-$22.

The Ark, 273rd Street and Sandridge Road, Nahcotta; tel. (206) 665-4133. Entrees $9-$18.

For more information: State of Washington Tourism Division, P.O. Box 42500, Olympia, Wash. 98504; tel. (800) 544-1800, ext. 101, or (206) 586-2088.