When the Francis Scott Key Bridge collapsed in March 2024, much of the public’s attention focused on the loss of six road workers and the massive disruption to regional traffic. But beneath the surface of the Patapsco River, environmentalists also worried about a different kind of fallout — one that could affect the Chesapeake Bay for decades to come.
The Patapsco is home to a growing oyster reef near Fort Carroll, a former military base turned aquatic sanctuary. Following the bridge collapse, scientists worried that tons of falling concrete and twisted steel could stir up a sediment plume that would smother the living reef — already home to millions of oysters.
Oysters are more than seafood — they’re the Bay’s natural filters, capable of cleaning up to 50 gallons of water each day, and creating habitat for a variety of marine life.
On a windy, gray afternoon, scientists and volunteers with the Chesapeake Bay Foundation loaded more than 31,000 oysters onto a boat named Snow Goose and ferried them to the site. It was one of several planned drops this year as part of a campaign to plant 250,000 oysters annually.
Gussie McGuire, a scientist with the foundation, smiled as she hoisted a blue hamper full of oysters overboard.
“How heavy was it? Umm, I don’t know, 20 pounds. A little bit heavier than laundry. I’m thinking in terms of my cat. It’s maybe a little bit heavier than my cat,” McGuire said. “It’s a good arm workout, I like it.”
The reef survived the collapse not by chance, but because of its scale, according to Maryland Oyster Restoration Coordinator, Kelly Fiala. More than six million oysters had already been planted in the area, forming a dense layer of hard shell substrate — the only kind oysters can grow on.
Their preferred surface? Other oyster shells.
“It’s really hard for them to thrive and grow if they land somewhere that is covered in sediment,” McGuire added.
That’s why recycling used shells is a crucial part of restoration. Volunteers and participating restaurants collect shells, which are aged in a parking lot for a year to kill pathogens. Then, juvenile oysters known as “spats” are attached to the shells before being planted.
“If you go out to a restaurant, or if you have an oyster roast, we encourage people to find their nearest shell recycling station,” said Fiala, the foundation’s oyster reef coordinator. “That’s a critical part of our restoration work.”
The restoration effort relies on a steady supply of recycled shells — and that’s where oyster eaters can help.
“I myself am not the biggest fan of eating oysters,” she said. “But I love that people do love to eat oysters because it gives them a reason to care about the species.”
With construction of a new bridge on the horizon, environmental groups are watching closely to ensure the reef doesn’t face new threats.
“We want to ensure that the best possible practices for things like stormwater are undertaken when they're rebuilding the approaches to the bridge,” McGuire said. “We want to make sure that all sediment and erosion control are in place on land, and that any loss of forest or wetland is adequately mitigated.”
Climate resilience, and innovative stormwater management, she said, must be a part of the conversation.
As the boat neared the former bridge site, a sharp fishy odor filled the air. Captain Benjamin Carver, who has piloted the Snow Goose for eight years, knew the source.
“That is the smell of a whole bunch of sea birds that have their nests on Fort Carroll,” he said. “They're eating fish... It is a fishy smell of bird poop — not the most pleasant.”
Despite the stench, Carver said the sights on the water tell a different story — the environment is rebounding.
“There’s cool species that are coming back into the harbor,” Carver said. “Dolphins... cownose rays... night herons, green herons, kingfishers... even a pair of tropical seabirds known as brown boobies. These species are pretty high on the food chain, so if they’re doing okay, it’s probably a pretty good indicator things are improving out here — systematically.”
He invited others to witness the transformation, believing the harbor is for everyone.
“This water is for the people of Baltimore,” he said. “We all have some sort of impact on everything at the bottom of our watershed. And when we all just care a little bit, we can make things better out here.”
Fiala, who grew up north of Baltimore and now lives on the Eastern Shore, says the reef’s survival — in spite of the sediment plume from the collapse — carries a broader message.
“One of the things that I think came out of the tragedy was bringing people together in a time where no one really knew what to do,” she said. “It also shows that, yes, humans do have an incredible impact on the environment. But if we respond and we restore enough, it can rebound.”
The Chesapeake Bay Foundation plans to continue its restoration efforts at Fort Carroll and beyond — with the belief that even after disaster, recovery is possible, a few oysters at a time.
