The Art of Wildcrafting

Seaweeds for me represent an opportunity for wildcrafting. Wildcrafting is an opportunity for me to locate myself in the world, to immerse myself in the smells, tastes, and textures of nature. Go into someone's garden and begin harvesting their food, and they will likely scold you for taking what is theirs, as they see themselves as creators of that garden. When we gather from the wild, we gather from Creator's garden. And as creator made me and put me in this garden, it is perfectly natural that I explore, learn, utilize, and benefit from it. My first mentor in wildcrafting taught that "wildcrafting is stewardship." Wildcrafting is being alive.

My years living in Mendocino County, my close proximity to the ocean, and my growing knowledge of the powers of seaweeds inspired me to take the plunge into the frigid Pacific waters and explore the wilds and rhythms of ocean, moon, and tides. I like the seeming simplicity of seaweeds, the single-celled synthesis of ocean and starlight replicating and radiating in the harmonious life-giving impulse of foundational DNA patterning. To my mind, this patterning is what gives seaweeds the power to unravel such harmful and contrary patterns such as viruses and cancers.

Attunement to the harvest cycle is attunement to the seasons and the moon. As the spring sun becomes stronger and closer to our part of the earth, the seaweeds spring into life, growing rapidly. The cycles of the moon determine the action of the tides.

Low tide in the spring and summer is the best time to harvest. For a fleeting moment, mama ocean draws herself back from shore unveiling the abundant life at the edge of the earth. Piles of brown, red, purple, and green; seaweeds smooth, bumpy, iridescent, sheen, swaying in the calm waters or high and dry now, up on the rocks, cloaked in fog or shimmering in early morning sunlight, greet these human eyes. And that's just the seaweed. The full moon is sinking into the ocean, or the new moon is rising behind the hills to the east. These are the times to harvest. This is my life on the Mendocino Coast.

Generally, I have harvested alone. I am open to going with others, though I am somewhat protective of having this space for myself.

The seaweeds are right there. Walk up to the edge, roll up your pants. Check them out, pick some. I used to hike to my preferred spots and pack out the harvest, sometimes in three trips and sometimes ½ mile–1 mile each way. With my kayak, I can put in just about anywhere, and though I may emerge with the harvest at a short steep trail instead of a long flat walk, I mostly transport the heavy harvest load over water and this is good for my knees and back. Kayaking is a different adventure altogether, taking me to otherwise inaccessible places and sometimes precarious situations. In a kayak, I can sometimes ride the harvest in on a wave. I can also tip over!

The last two seasons I have dried my harvest at a natural building/permaculture intentional community in the hills near Boonville. I hope to continue with this arrangement, as it is much more rewarding and sustainable for me.

Drying the seaweed on a hot sunny day takes only a few hours. When it is dry, I pack it into food grade drums.

The world is becoming more polluted in exponentially increasing rates. Pristine areas that face no significant threats from local pollution can be harmed from effluent originating across the world. In the 10 years I've been gathering sea vegetables the world has changed significantly.

Regarding the safety of the seaweed I harvest, I intend to have samples tested at least once a month, if not bi-monthly, beginning next season. In general, I never take for granted or assume in my heart that I will be harvesting again the next season. Who knows?

People can buy or eat seaweed I harvest at Café Gratitude, Andy's Produce Stand in Sebastopol, Berkeley Farmers Market on Tuesdays, Judahlicious in SF, among other places, or just call and purchase direct from me.

Nori is probably my favorite — it is probably the most widely consumed seaweed on earth, by humans. Toast lightly in a hot skillet, in the oven on the lowest temp setting for just a couple minutes, or put in a dehydrator if you have one, seasoned or plain. It's delicious and protein and vitamin rich.

Kombu in soup, or wakame marinated, raw or in stir fry/simmery, saucey-type dish is delicious and nutritious.

First, I think people will generally get better seaweed from North Coast harvesters than they will from anywhere else in the world. We are micro-harvester/processors up here. A lot of Korean or Japanese seaweeds are farmed, and actually contribute to local pollution in those countries.

Supporting local harvesters supports a local culture and supports people who take an interest in this aspect of our landscape. We honor and utilize the offerings of our local world and offer them to people who live here. By supporting local harvesters, people support other members of their greater community who will step up to protect the availability of our local resources to the extent that we are able.

Very simple. I trim plants so they continue to grow, as a barber trims hair, and I harvest at the same places year after year so I can see the effect of my presence. I get to know and respect a place so that to harvest there is to honor it, and to honor it is to harvest with respect and gratitude. Plants like to be harvested.

To me, how I conduct my operation is important. In the ten years I've harvested I've travelled almost entirely on biodiesel or veggie oil I've gathered as waste oil.

Get a tide chart. Use common sense regarding where you decide to harvest.

Be sure that you can process what you harvest. That's important, because it enables the harvester to bring completion to the ceremony. Be aware of the ocean. Harvest facing the ocean. Look down. Harvest. Look up. Turn your back on Big Mama and risk being slapped. She hits hard.

Arrive early. Give yourself time to be blown away.