Three Steps Forward, South Bay, Virginia (#110)

After three hours of harvesting, I discover the best approach to collecting eelgrass seeds is to simply let go, allowing the current to take me.

I’m in a wetsuit for the first time in my life off the coast of Virginia in South Bay.  In the bed of the bay is a vast underwater meadow of eelgrass – a once nearly extinct species making a world-renowned comeback with the help of The Nature Conservancy (TNC) and volunteers like me today eager to hunt for seeds.  About one in twenty shoots of eelgrass hold seeds, and those shoots are the prizes us volunteers are searching for.  

Most of the eelgrass blades are long and flat, like linguini.  The seeded shoots, though, are rounded, like spaghetti.  Our task is to find the spaghetti among the linguini, then pluck and place them in a mesh bag strapped over our shoulders.  Those shoots will be brought ashore and placed in holding tanks in Oyster, Virginia.

There are different techniques for harvesting the seeded shoots, but after three hours, the most success comes by staying submerged and just letting the tide guide me.  As I hover over the eelgrass bed and breathe rhythmically through snorkel, I selectively pluck the spaghetti.  It’s like flying above a tiny forest, all while small translucent anchovies hover near my mask and occasionally brave their way in for a kiss.  

Over a two-week period, TNC and its volunteers will gather several tanks full of seeded shoots.  The pods eventually open and drop seeds to the bottom of the tank.  TNC then spreads them to other areas of the coast expanding the underwater meadow even more.  It’s a watery version of Johnny Appleseed’s story.

I’ve been lucky enough over the past several years to stand amid amazing terrestrial meadows – Clymer Meadow in Texas and Cowbane Prairie in the Shenandoah Valley, for instance, where the beauty is obviously apparent – you can holistically see and smell the meadow’s vibrancy.  But an underwater meadow is hard to appreciate without a snorkel.  Nonetheless, an underwater meadow serves a similarly vital purpose.  They are amazing ecosystems that capture carbon, reduce erosion, filter water, and enhance biodiversity – just like their above-water kin.  

Though it’s wonderful to participate in a world-renown restoration project, there’s a touch of irony in today’s efforts.  To get to Oyster is a six hour round trip – I burned a lot of carbon on my way to save a meadow that captures carbon.  Others in our group of twenty came from similar distances.  But perhaps optimistically, our efforts can be measured as two steps forward, and one back.  

Or even three steps forward if we do more than just bask in the glow of our effort.  Perhaps the third step forward is sharing this story—so that more people understand the importance of underwater meadows, and maybe, like me, feel called to help them grow.

Read more about TNC's eelgrass restoration HERE.