Reading the Wind: Generations of Knowledge Behind Every Harvest

Reading the Wind: Generations of Knowledge Behind Every Harvest

As seaweed harvesters we’re grateful for the harsh ocean environment most condemn as cold, fierce, and brutal. The northerly gale force winds, the foaming tides, the salt spray battering against the rocks, the wild conditions of the North Atlantic, are the elemental ingredients that cause the seaweed species in our extracts, bladderwrack and laminaria digitata, to produce bioactives with anti-inflammatory, anti-oxidant, and anti- microbial properties. Locals love to gripe about the weather on the North East Avalon of Newfoundland. And in at least one regard we are not above the opinion of our peers. The all too common and well-known “shuff” nurtures seaweed, but transforms the harbour into a tumultuous environment too dangerous to harvest. 

Harsh weather off of the coast of Grates Cove 

What is this so-called “shuff?” This is a local term that has been in use amongst the seafaring people of Newfoundland for centuries. It simply means a gust of wind, or more specifically referring to the ocean, a rough tide. Shuff is one of those notorious environmental features that immediately comes to mind if thinking about Newfoundland. Needless to say, in Grates Cove, where the hills are barren and there isn’t any shelter from weather exposure, we experience frequent and healthy shuff. 

If you’re ever visiting the province and witness a Newfoundlander come inside from the wind and the rain, and disgruntled they exclaim, “there’s quite a shuff on today,” now you know exactly what they mean. 

But as marine-users, as seaweed harvesters, what does shuff mean for us? If the tide is pushing into the harbour, creating those emblematic scenes of riotous white waves towering above the rugged black rocks, the wind is blowing northerly. It’s classic shuff weather. It creates life-threatening conditions that make it impossible to harvest. On the other hand, when the wind changes direction, settles to a temperate breeze that blows off the land, the tides ease, become “civil” as we say, and we’re able to navigate the waterways safely. 

What we would call a "civil day" in the same region

The later summer months, usually around August and September, open a narrow window when these tidal surges calm. It’s the best opportunity for us to harvest in a safe and stable manner. That is not to say we haven’t experienced a sudden change of the wind while on the water, have to cut harvesting operations short, and rush back to shore. Luckily our boat operator, Darren, has spent a lifetime traversing the waterways, harbours, and gulches forming the Bay de Verde peninsula. He not only helps us explore the area, but warns us in the course of our harvest “if there’s a shuff coming on.” 

Harvesting in Newfoundland is very weather dependent. The window of opportunity is brief, which means we as harvesters need to work effectively. The ability to perceive the winds and the currents, the lay of the land, goes into that efficiency. It’s indispensable. Nor is it easily replaced, for it’s a skill passed down through generations, through lifetimes facing the elements, the storms, and those brief periods of calm that distinguish this island’s beauty. 

Local knowledge of the waters is paramount to the intimate contact we have with this wondrous natural resource. It’s essential for our personal safety, but also the safety of the seaweed beds, the health of their regrowth, and the gentle green approach of our practice.