The Oyster War: The True Story of a Small Farm, Big Politics, and the Future of Wilderness in America

by Summer Brennan

It all began simply enough. In 1976 the Point Reyes Wilderness Act granted the highest protection in America to more than 33,000 acres of California forest, grassland and shoreline - including Drakes Estero, an estuary of stunning beauty. Inside was a small, family-run oyster farm first established in the 1930s. A local rancher bought the business in 2005, renaming it The Drakes Bay Oyster Company. When the National Park Service informed him that the 40-year lease would not be renewed past 2012, he vowed to keep the farm in business even if it meant taking his fight all the way to the Supreme Court.

Environmentalists, national politicians, scientists, and the Department of the Interior all joined a protracted battle for the estuary that had the power to influence the future of wilderness for decades to come. Were the oyster farmers environmental criminals, or victims of government fraud? Fought against a backdrop of fear of government corruption and the looming specter of climate change, the battle struck a national nerve, pitting nature against agriculture and science against politics, as it sought to determine who belonged and who didn’t belong, and what it means to be wild.

Genres: Nonfiction, History, Science, Nature, Politics, Food, Environment

256 pages, Paperback

First published May 12, 2015

About the author

Summer Brennan is a journalist and author. She received the 2016 Matthew Power Literary Reporting Award and was a visiting scholar at the Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute at New York University. Her first book, The Oyster War: The True Story of a Small Farm, Big Politics, and the Future of Wilderness in America (2015) was a finalist for the 2016 Orion Book Award. Her second book, High Heel, part of the Object Lessons series from Bloomsbury and The Atlantic, was published in March 2019. A longtime consultant for the United Nations, her writing has appeared in Granta, The Paris Review, New York Magazine, The Guardian, Scientific American, Longreads, Pacific Standard, McSweeneys, Lit Hub, the San Francisco Chronicle, and elsewhere. She lives in Brooklyn and New Mexico.

Reviews

[Summer Brennan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Full disclosure: I wrote this book ;)

[Dov Zeller · Rating 5 out of 5]

Summer Brennan has gone and written a stunning and powerful first book. This isn't just an account of a conflict between conservationist forces and small farmers, the Lunny family in particular (with a bunch of politicians and scientists and journalists and locals getting into the fray). This is a well-researched historical, ethical and philosophical exploration into the following questions (and more): what is wilderness? what is native flora and fauna? how native is native? can and should degrees of native-ness help us make decisions about land use and cultivation? when do we need to draw lines between human and other habitats and why? when, where and how are humans a constructive part of an ecosystem at this point in earthly history? is it in human power to "curate" ecosystems (though at this point it seems to have become something of a necessity)? do we ever do it well? Is there any amount of fighting that will keep shady characters, CEOs and politicians, from sacrificing what little wilderness we have left. Does anyone care more about the earth's struggling ecosystemic balances and the probability of mass extinction than they do about money? And last but not least for this list, is there any justice in this world?

According to my reading of the book, I can at least answer yes to that last question. Maybe not much. But once in a while, there is a little justice, and in this case, I think a just decision was made in the end in the battle between the Lunny's and their oyster farm, and the conservation and Pt. Reyes park services.

But in a larger sense, a lot of dubious incidents and actions, often disturbingly unjust, helped pave and construct the path to this particular decision. Brenner follows this path back around five hundred years, when people of European descent arrived in this continent with the belief that everything god makes belongs to them and has only been built to be used, exploited and abused so that some group of Europeans might attain power and wealth.

Well, I will try to veer away from the proverbial soap-box, because though Brennan clearly also feels satisfied with the outcome of this particular saga, she also, I think, fears for our history and what will become of us if we can't shift gears from this destructive, conquering mindset toward new and/or better older ways of relating to our habitats and fellow creatures, human and otherwise. The tone is far from proselytizing. She writes this story with a balance of fairness and humility, though certainly there are hints of elegy and prayer.

When I first got this book from the library (my friends tend to make a trip a week for me, dropping off old books and picking up the new, since at this point I am quite sick and fairly disabled) I was intimidated by the size of it. I couldn't imagine why it needed to be so long. Some of my friends love reading long books and I envy their appreciation. The longer the book, the lost-er they can get in it, and that, for them, is a delight. For me, well, I am such a slow reader I worry that I will get lost and never be found. That said, at some point around 150 pages in I flipped through the 360-odd pages and saw that the book only goes for 288 of them. After that come the acknowledgements, appendices and indices. I was more than half-way done. Still, I wondered, is all of this necessary?

Now that I've gotten through everything up to the acknowledgements, I can say that I am glad Brennan took her time to include a lot of narratives that are both extraneous and necessary for a true understanding of the many forces at play. She goes into a respectful and meaningful depth when introducing key players over the last forty plus years (politicians, scientists, conservationists, farmers, etc), and indigenous and colonizing and oystering forebears going back much farther.

If you are concerned about spoilers, probably this is a good place to stop.

Ultimately, what Summer Brennan uncovers, is that

1) When the Lunny's bought their oyster farm in the early 2000s there was no indication that they would be able to farm there (Drake's Bay/Estero) past 2012. So all of their arguing and making martyrs of themselves, saying that they purchased the farm with the understanding that their mariculture lease would be renewed, well, it's a lie. And one that they took very far. They used a lot of manipulative tactics to try to get what they wanted, and got in bed with some pretty shady characters (for example, the Koch brothers.)

2) There are no known native species of oysters in the Drake's Bay area and therefore, there can be no reestablishment of native oyster communities. (The Lunny's tried to advertise that they were restoring a native species, but in this case, they appeared to be ignorant of the truth and not willfully misrepresenting it.)

3) While there was not enough scientific evidence to prove Lunny's business would do extensive harm to the ecosystem, there was enough evidence of pollution and disruption to make it clear the farm was definitively disruptive. The way language was used in the scientific studies was very particularly and peculiarly evasive and that added fuel to the fire of the conflict.


I'm angry at Michael Pollan and some other foodie local celebs for trying to back up the small farm in this case, though I understand there is a lot of romanticization going on. What a lot of the people in support of this small farmer's plight didn't seem to realize was that there were much bigger farmers interested in making sure no land is sacred. Not to say it is not a complicated issue. And I think Brennan did a great job offering up a narrative that encourages the reader to connect to the motivations and high stakes for a lot of those involved.

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

A year ago January my family and I spent a few days in Point Reyes, about an hour's drive north of San Francisco. The natural landscape of Marin County is some of the most beautiful in the country, but there is something particularly edenic about Point Reyes. There was one hike down a gently-sloping hillside trail thick with cedar, shore pine and juniper that was one of the most pleasant hiking experiences I've ever had. I also distinctly remember watching from the top of a cliff as a mother seal gave birth in the shallow waters of the shore far below. When the placenta emerged a flock of waiting birds descended upon it as the mother pulled her pup onto the beach. It was amazing. And loud. Harbor seals are not quiet animals.

I also remember seeing these signs all around Point Reyes saying "Save Our Oyster Farm" or some such. I knew nothing beyond what the sign implied, but I could tell right away, from having witnessed a few small town brouhaha's in my life, that there was some amount of bad blood about an oyster farm. "Looks like a local land dispute of some sort," I said to my wife as we drove past. It wasn't until I picked up this book, a year and a half later, that I realized just how much of an understatement that was.

There is an almost Hollywood level of drama inherent in this story, and a lesser writer would perhaps have been tempted to gloss over the nuances to bring it out: a small family-run oyster farm beloved by the locals is fighting for its life against an anonymous bureaucratic monolith. A sincere biologist faces scathing criticism from a prominent neurologist whose advocacy on behalf of the farm pushes him into scientific dishonesty and mendacious ad hominem. A far right wing advocacy organization steps in to use a small farmer's cause as a pawn in a game of billionaire influence peddling.

But that's not the story Brennan tells. What saves it from Hollywood levels of stupidity is the moral ambivalence of the situation, and the lack of an unambiguously bad actor on either side. Throughout Brennan thoughtfully wrings sympathetic nuance out of every individual who features in her story.

As curious as I was about this book based on my (too brief) time in Point Reyes and my having grokked that something was astir with an oyster farm there, what actually made me get up off my couch and pick up a copy was the conservation angle. This book actually makes a fascinating companion to John McPhee's Encounters with the Archdruid, which I coincidentally had read just before. But where McPhee's colorfully recounted verbal sparring matches between arch-conservationist David Brower and those who opposed with his pro-wilderness fundamentalism downplayed the white-knuckle political battles that raged between the lines, Brennan gives us a blow-by-blow of the knock-down, drag-out battle between the oyster farm and the National Park Service. And in so doing she actually frames the conservation debate, and the enormously high stakes of that debate, more starkly than even the ghost of David Brower that McPhee summons in his classic book.

In delving into the underpinning of the oyster farm's battle with the National Park Service, Brennan gives us deep dives on the history of the oyster industry in California (turns out oysters are not native to the Golden State) and the knotty legal distinctions among different wilderness designations. We also get the story of how a hard drinking, philandering legislator who hated the outdoors was single-handedly responsible for the Point Reyes National Seashore, as well as the multi-generational history of a Point Reyes ranching family. Brennan even, to her credit, gets the perspective of the Native American tribe that once inhabited Point Reyes, which sheds a different kind of light on the issues at the heart of this conflict (I actually wish the book had spent more time on the Native American perspective on Point Reyes, as I felt like there was much to it that could have informed other aspects of the book).

What at first seems like the story of a local dispute resolves, by the end, into an exploration of the inherent tension between the necessity of wilderness preservation and the imperative to utilize natural resources for human ends. It is a tension that has been present throughout human history, and is of especial relevance right now, and which this book explores intensively with intelligence and no small amount of charm.

[Sonny · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked this book. But let me go to the dark side first.

Talk about burying the lede! On page 269 of this 296 page book we are first introduced to the cataclysmic idea that the Koch Brothers are looking to leverage the environmental issue so the Oyster Farm “exception” might be the basis for establishing exceptions in other Federally protected areas.

Well, I may not have stated that clearly. But the point is that there is huge national environmental issue for which this otherwise regional conservation tug-of-war is the basis. From a standpoint of grasping the greater issues Summer Brennan has missed the opportunity to appeal to a broader community while also adding a real-life dramatic element. Instead this issue is first broached 27 pages from the end of the book.

Additionally, as one who accepts the author’s story prima facie and likes a story with dimension and color, I still had to quickly adjust to being more cautious with the rabbit holes she led me down and skim sections of incredible irrelevance. I suppose some would like these digressions. But I had little tolerance for following the micro-story where the author is yelled at for picking wildflowers. And I'm not sure just how much I had to learn about oyster cultivation. Got it. Move on.

That’s the mean stuff. On the up-side, the author made a powerful and phenomenal effort to research & reconstruct an acrimonious issue that pit environmental issues, business interests and our national yearning to avoid despoiling every acre of land. It’s often a tough call. And especially when the interests have been embedded to the point where the economy and culture has developed around what is.

I read this book because I was returning to Point Reyes for its annual birding festival. Like most tourists, one often parachutes into an area with little appreciation for where you are. The Oyster War provided me unique historical insight into Point Reyes politics, environmentalism and the passion of the people who call this home.

[Greg M. Johnson · Rating 4 out of 5]

An important topic. The prose tends to jump around a bit, sometimes making me re-read a section to try to grasp what the transition between topics was.

[Maxine · Rating 4 out of 5]

I had just visited Point Reyes in July and saw many signs about saving Drakes Bay Oyster Company. the signs piqued my curiosity but only as much as to speculate about whether a small business had gone belly-up due to the usual economic forces.

Now back on the east coast, I'm wandering through the local library and see The Oyster War in the New Reads section. Always ready to learn more about foodways I read at the back cover and what a coincidence! Read it on the beach to become one with the oysters.

Anyway, you can tell that the author has a real love and knowledge of Point Reyes. The roads rolling through the park and weaving through the farms, the (non-native?!) elks often only a few yards from grazing cows, and the tracts of sand where the seals beach spring vividly to mind when she describes them in the book. I think that was the part that made me enjoy the book so much! It was nice to get transported back, if only for a little while.

There was a lot of historical background to the area that I certainly did not not know about and the myth of California oysters threw me for a loop. Lived in CA for most of my life and had no idea there was no such thing! And the story behind the feud between the NPS and the Lunnys was certainly eye-opening. I can't believe it got so rancorous as to divide a community and there seems to have been a fair bit of collateral damage (as with the oyster farm worker in the beginning) because of the disagreement. I found myself drawing the same conclusion as Summer as to who/what was "in the right", but it's still unsettling in a way I can't pin down.

I think if you have an interest in how wilderness, community, and agriculture intersects and clashes, this is a great read.

[Kelly O'Mara · Rating 4 out of 5]

I actually really liked this book, despite the fact that she came to fairly different conclusions than I did when I was reporting on the same story. It's well-written and well-researched, and the most interesting stuff is the history and back story of how the park and oysters came to be. The major problem I had with it was that it comes from a very specific lens/bubble that is the product of mistaking what was being said/thought in a small town for what was being said/thought everywhere. I get why that, but it seems not quite right.

[Amanda · Rating 5 out of 5]

A truly excellent book. Brennan’s writing is so clear and communicates well with a sense of humor. I loved the historical anecdotes, which always connected to the specifics of the case. I would recommend this book to anyone. The case is fascinating, as are the people involved, and it makes me want to walk along the shore.

[Jivan Khakee · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I first became interested in Oyster Restoration this book was recommended to me - now as a graduate student at San Francisco State University studying olympia oysters I finally got a chance. On the whole, this is a great read. Brennan's recounting of the history of oyster mariculture, and more broadly of the history of Point Reyes is as interesting as it is delightful! The political and personal intrigue involved with all of the characters Brennan introduces is similarly engaging, and it was fun to see names and faces of folks who I know on a professional level turn up. In one of our introductory courses we used the DBOC battle as a case study for debating the pro-con of aquaculture in the marine environment, so it was interesting to read a more thorough take on the whole debacle.

However, I was truly surprised to see Brennan make the claim that Olympia Oysters are non-native not only to Drake's Estero, but to San Francisco Bay (pgs. 196-197, various other places). This did not square away with my knowledge of the subject, so I did some research on the claim. Her citation of Konzak et al. (2011) is somewhat misleading - the authors did find only 9 oysters, but these composed 9% of all shellfish species identified, and 26% of all native species identified. These were also not wholesale excavations of the shellmounds, just a few representative samples. The two contributing authors who performed the shell analysis, both of whom are well regarded marine ecologists with many publications on O. lurida, make no note of these shells potentially being as few as 5 oysters.

In a similar vein, the the Konzak et al (2011), who Brennan cites for this, rely on Milliken et al. (2007) to expand on pre-historic populations of olympia oysters in SF Bay. Unfortunately, Brennan makes a speculative claim about how olympia oysters may have entered the ecosystem based on the account of John Stillwell Morgan, who both did not find olympia oysters in SF Bay and imported massive amounts of them from Willapa Bay (pgs 52-58). Of course, as Brennan and Konzak et al (2011) both state, Olympia Oysters were likely misidentified as Pacific Oysters by researchers who were looking for them. Believing the account of Morgan may be flawed for several reasons, namely that he may have been looking for an oyster that matched his familiar Eastern Oysters, a reef forming oyster that is both larger, and has more noticeable vertical relief than a flat olympia oyster. Furthermore, olympia oyster populations are known to have large inter-annual variability in SF Bay due to freshwater inputs from large rain events, and 1850 (the year Morgan arrived in San Francisco) still ranks as the 15th wettest in recorded history.

To underscore this point, Millikan et al. (2007) make no indication of large amounts of shell deposited from human activity, instead referencing other studies with hypotheses on shifts in human behavior regarding shellfish cultivation. Millikan et al. (2007) is quite thorough, so I'm not sure why Brennan felt the need to speculate in this manner - presumably if shell had appeared in the fossil record from an extraneous source Millikan et al. (2007) would have at least speculated on this. Further genetic studies of O. lurida (Silliman 2019) have identified distinct populations along a latitudinal gradient, including distinct populations in San Francisco Bay and Willapa Bay. Other analyses of estuaries along the West Coast have identified pre-historic olympia oyster shell deposits - it seems unlikely that San Francisco would have been somehow skipped over. Dredging for oyster shells in southern San Francisco Bay continues even today - 40,000 tons of shell per year (Baykeeper) - and it seems unlikely that mariculture operations would have created this quantity (both in amount and in extent in geologic strata) for how (relatively) short a time frame they operated.

I believe this faulty reasoning ultimately stems from a generalization of the habitat of San Francisco Bay and Drake's Estero. Brennan characterizes the Estero, and alludes to San Francisco Bay similarly, as being "soft-bottomed estuaries". This is largely true, and Konzak et al. (2011) found mostly clams and other soft-bottom dwelling shellfish in the estero. However, anyone who has ever been to the intertidal in these locations knows there are abundant naturally formed cobbles, rocks, boulders, and various other kinds of hard substrate that populations of oysters could have used (and still do use!) as habitat.

Most studies of the environmental benefits of olympia oysters have so far agreed that they likely played a marginal role in these ecosystems, especially when compared to other species of oysters. However, there is still much to learn about how this species may benefit the environment today. It is unfortunate that Brennan's narrative leans heavily on the olympia oyster being "non-native", as it is wholly unnecessary to make the case for the shutdown of DBOC. It is unclear if Brennan reached out to the authors of any of the studies I mentioned here, but given how many of the authors involved remain engaged in oyster restoration projects today, it seems hard to imagine this to be the case. As easy as it is to dismiss oyster restoration as "trendy", it would probably have been beneficial to speak with scientists involved with the current restoration of the species to gain a more thorough account of olympia oysters that does not rely on accounts of mariculture entrepreneurs from the 19th century. Citations of Carpenter (1864), Baker (1995), Bonnot (1935), and many other seminal studies and reviews of olympia oyster populations throughout the West Coast are also not included by Brennan.

This is a long review, but overall I really did enjoy this book. The debate over what wilderness should mean is incredibly interesting, and despite being from a oyster sympathetic background I find myself personally siding against the farm in this battle. That being said, the innacuracies regarding olympia oysters are frustrating, and I wish that aspect of the oyster narrative was better done. Many millions of dollars still go towards these projects, Brennan disagrees with a vast body of scientists, studies, and evidence with advancing the claim that olympia oysters are non-native.

TLDR: The book is great, especially with respect to the people, drama, and political intrigue. Olympia oysters are almost certainly native to the area. They probably didn't have an immense ecological impact, so any claims they did by the farm are dubious at best. The picture drawn for oyster restoration projects is dismissive, and Brennan should have done more legwork for that aspect of the story. Reading about Point Reyes inspired me to go hiking around the area some more, and if only for that reason I am happy to have read the book!

[Jennie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well researched and well written, this book presented the history of the oyster industry in the San Francisco area, the formation of the national park, and the potential wilderness designation. I knew nothing of the oyster farm and Point Reyes before I read this book, but I am interested in wilderness policy issues. The fight between the farm and the NPS grew contentious very quickly, but the author presented the facts in the story, until the final chapter where she gave her opinion on the farm and wilderness. I recommend this book. It was both credible and readable.

[Lara · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is originally a book that should be up my alley, and for the most part it was. For a 300+ page book, I'd say a third of the book was bibliography and appendices. Out of the remaining 288 pages, 80% of it was the back story. While a good portion of the back story was important, I feel like it could have been a bit more streamlined. I would have liked to know more about the final outcome process than a rushed 40 pages at the end. It was a build up for a fizzle. Overall I still learned a lot

[Dan Carr · Rating 5 out of 5]

Told with humor, style and insight, it chronicles the inevitable complexity when individual, community and governmental interests collide. It is a rare chance to step into the center of such a maelstrom while buffered by the engaging narrative. Humans and their institutions are fascinating subjects, and the author delivers them perfectly for our inspection and, yes, amusement. A joy in both the reading and reflection.

[Zardoz · Rating 3 out of 5]

A very well researched and unbiased account of the Oyster Company controversy in Point Reyes. I liked how the author showed how both sides distorted and misrepresented facts and data for their own benefit.
The book is a little slow in the beginning and lingered on to much of the local families history. The early chapters felt like separate news articles and didn’t form a seamless narrative.
The rest of the book was good though and helped me understand the issue through all perpesticves.

[Shannon · Rating 3 out of 5]

Delves into fascinating issues that played out in a place I know passingly well. Thoroughly reported, but not so thoroughly edited - I wish the telling had been tightened up, especially in the middle-to-later chapters. What will stay with me is the illusory nature of "wilderness" and our conception of wild places, landscapes that we want to stay fixed in time even though they may have been actively managed by the indigenous inhabitants that came before us.

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

Started really strong got boring in the middle and ended weak.

[Alan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a selection for our local book club (but had been sitting on our shelf for a while). A local (Point Reyes Station - Marin County north of SF) details the struggle between a local oyster company whose oysters are farmed in National Park Service waters and the park services attempts to take back the waterway for public use. However that's a drastic oversimplification of the issue. The book goes into diverse topics such as the history of oyster farming in this area (I was surprised to learn that oysters are not native to these waterways), the native claims to land, various indigenous and non-indigenous flora and fauna, Fox News, Dianne Feinstein, public versus private rights regarding land (whose is it and who took it from whom), and a lot more. It was a dense book with so much going on but addressed a complex topic in a really effective way.

My one critique (there has to be one) is that the author sometimes was too much a part of the story - I appreciate she's from the area and this issue really resonated with her, but it took away from some of the objectivity. And this is a minor criticism - the book was great and with all great books left me with more questions than answers.

[Benjamin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fine example of journalism at its best - thoroughly researched and seeking objective facts then trying to present them in an accessible form for the reader. I would have liked to rate this book higher but I feel it was held back by the author only minimally connecting the specific case of Drake's Bay Oyster Co. to the broader political conflicts around the issues addressed in the book. I also felt that the some of the space dedicated to background about the local area, commercial oyster operations in general and some of the people involved could have been cut down and better used to examine the national debate on wilderness and rural land use. Finally, the author only briefly gives her own opinion on the case at the end of the book, whereas by that point I felt she had earned the right, if not the duty, to expand much more broadly on her own thoughts. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the book, even though being Jewish I shan't be eating any oysters in the foreseeable future - maybe the next book I read could be about how wonderful pigs taste when raised in a pristine environment!

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first picked up this book before heading to Point Reyes for a spring break vacation, hoping to read a breezy juicy gossipy true story about the area as I relaxed. I discovered that it wasn’t a breezy vacation novel, but a thoroughly researched and dense epic! It took me awhile to read it, because it was so dense and I wanted to take time to digest and ponder each nugget of info, but I was hooked, and Brennan’s writing style is a delight to read.

I have so many thoughts on this but I don’t want to reveal any spoilers. I will say, In her research, Brennan untangled a gigantic web of lies and misinformation. The community was so divided it was scary. But why? People were lied to, fears were fed. In the end, the truth came out. Can we learn from this? Investigative reporting like this is needed, more than ever. A fascinating story!!

[Wendy Feltham · Rating 3 out of 5]

Since I used to live in Marin County for many years, this book was a memory walk through familiar places, lore, and politicians-- the white stags, the ranches, the ridges, the bakery, the oyster farms, the newspapers, the elk, the beaches. Summer Brennan thoroughly researched the history of west coast oysters and the inflamed passions behind the two sides of the oyster war in West Marin. I enjoyed learning about the two perspectives, and know which side I'd support if I'd been there. The tragedy in this story is how polarized this lovely community became, a community that cherishes and wants to protect the environment of Point Reyes. And that the Koch brothers have such deep pockets and such reach throughout our country.

[Will Fleming · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a really interesting dive into the conflict around a Federal wilderness area in CA and an oyster farm on the land petitioning to be allowed to continue operating there. It's a tangled political morass, but Brennan's prose is engaging and clear. The book does seem somewhat padded out, like it had to hit a page count: some of the historical asides seem longer than necessary and can end up quite far afield from the core subject of the story.

[Judy · Rating 5 out of 5]

When Drake's Bay Oyster Company was sold, the new owners were told that the license to grow oysters in Drake's Bay would run out in just a few years because the area was now part of Point Reyes National Seashore. However, the new owners carried out a long battle to continue to farm there. Eventually they lost, but not before the community was divided and national political figures were drawn in.

[Laurie]

This was interesting to me as I have spent time in Marin County so the country is familiar to me.
I bogged down in reading the story, however, as the author goes into a great deal of background on the individuals that, presumably, will play big roles in the unfolding of the war. It is probably a symptom of the pandemic mind that I could not concentrate on so much detail. I hope to come back to it sometime.

[Amanda Fredericks · Rating 4 out of 5]

Saw someone reading this at a hotel I was staying at in Guatemala and decided to buy it. It’s about an oyster farm in Point Reyes, California. I enjoyed the environmental policy and that the author remained unbiased so that the reader could pick their own side. Kudos to the author for the amount of research required to write this book 📕

Ps. The chapter on exotic deer extermination was devastating 🦌

[Jaime · Rating 5 out of 5]

A page turner detailing, among other things, the natural history of Northern California, the people who live here today, and the battle between a family farm and the National Park Service. Brennan turns what could have been a dry treatise on legalities and politics into a riveting account of the personal stories and high stakes involved.

[Judith Wagner · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rereading this 2015 book from off my shelf, I found it as fascinating as I remembered. It is about the lengthy fight over whether an oyster farm should be allowed to continue its operation inside the Point Reyes National Seashore. The author grew up in the Point Reyes area, worked as a journalist in the area during some of the years she covers, bases a lot of her work on personal interviews, and definitely puts herself into her writing – though she refrains from offering us her own opinions until the last chapter. Not a straightforward history, but great story-telling.

[Alli Shea · Rating 4 out of 5]

Environmental politics, a small Northern California town, some interesting perspectives on what ought to be wilderness, and how humans do or don't figure into the equation. Gets a little slow on some of the policy deep dives but all in all quick read.

[Sai · Rating 3 out of 5]

Love oysters, and am always curious about the many dimensions of conservation. Had to get this. Rather a unique story and unique access to the story (for the author). Sound narration, but read this more for the appreciation of the topics versus a dramatic plot.

[Frances · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fascinating book that describes the case of an oyster farm in Pt. Reyes National Seashore. The book continually caught my eye at Pt. Reyes Books, and I am happy to have had the excuse to finally read it for a book club conversation.

[G · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is almost certainly the most invested I have ever felt in a nonfiction book. Extraordinarily well researched and beautifully written.

[Laura Watt · Rating 1 out of 5]

Unfortunately this book is full of historical inaccuracies.