Laura Solomon and Savannah-based chef Chris Hathcock flipping oyster baskets to prevent fouling from algae and other growthPhotograph by Virginie Drujon-Kippelen Perry and Laura Solomon know well the ups and downs of oyster cultivation. As founders and co-owners of Tybee Oyster Company, the couple h as been through three hurricanes. But after nearly three years on the water, hard work and a good dose of resiliency have paid off. The company’s plumpy, deep-shelled Salt Bombs have started to show up on menus in Atlanta and Savannah. Still, as Perry says half-jokingly, “no one has really put a Georgia cocktail oyster on the map yet.” Georgia oyster history is a story of wild abundance and insatiable appetite. After nourishing Indigenous Americans for millennia, oysters became an important resource for the Gullah Geechee people, who carefully tended native beds throughout the 19th century. Commercial interests soon capitalized on the abundant shellfish, leading to an economic bonanza in canned oysters that by the 1940s had nearly collapsed the wild population along the Southeast coast. Georgia was long cautious about reintroducing oyster harvesting even as other nearby states, including Florida and North Carolina, began legalizing new sustainable methods. But over the past decade, the tides have turned. To rebuild the oyster industry sustainably, marine experts advocated for a shift to aquaculture, a scientific approach to shellfish farming that is more sustainable than wild harvesting and results in more uniform, restaurant-worthy oysters known as “singles.” Georgia restaurateurs eager to offer local shellfish on their menus—and foodies eager to eat them—encouraged the state legislature to bring back oyster harvesting, this time in an ecologically sound way. In 2019, the Georgia General Assembly obliged, opening the state’s 110-mile coastline to privately leased aquaculture. Perry Solomon, who flew Navy jets before launching an oyster farm with his wifePhotograph by Virginie Drujon-Kippelen The Solomons selected a high-salinity waterway with robust tidal change for their seven-acre floating farmPhotograph by Virginie Drujon-Kippelen The Solomons were among the first to leap at the opportunity. The couple had been living in Virginia, watching as that state’s oyster-farming industry grew exponentially after legalizing aquaculture, and wondered whether they could do the same in Tybee, where Perry grew up. On their frequent global travels, they explored marine aquaculture and visited oyster farms, finding a like-minded community everywhere they went. “From Ireland to Cancale [in France], we met people and thought, They look like people we want to hang out with,” says Perry. Neither had sea-farming experience. Perry retired from the Navy several years ago, after flying fighter jets for 20 years, and now flies Gulfstream jets as a demo pilot; Laura, who has a background in education and consulting, works as a strategic advisor at Tybee Island Maritime Academy. But both of them have engineering degrees from Georgia Tech, and they figured they had enough technical savvy to set up a floating farm system while showcasing the ecological benefits of sustainable aquaculture. In 2022, they rented seven and a half acres near Tybee Island, just south of Savannah, where the mouth of the Bull River joins the Wassaw Sound. There, salt water meets a flush of fresh water, creating a brackish environment ideal for oyster growing. The location also benefits from a particularly high tidal change, above average for the eastern U.S. coast. “We’re talking millions of gallons of water back and forth twice a day,” says Laura. “Just the volume of it, going in and out to the ocean and replenishing itself every day, is extraordinary.” Oyster farming is a labor-intensive process; someone from the farm is out on the water most days to monitor the oysters’ growth. The Solomons use a FlipFarm system, developed in New Zealand and adapted to Georgia’s conditions, which uses floating baskets that are periodically rotated to prevent the accumulation of barnacles, algae, and other elements. Oyster aficionado and Savannah-based chef Chris Hathcock has become part of the operation, lending a hand on and off the water. The whole team works together to flip baskets and sort oysters by size: Under Georgia law, oysters must measure at least three inches from hinge to mouth to be harvested. When she’s not maneuvering the lines, Laura is also in charge of analyzing data. Their Salt Bomb oysters, which they now sell to restaurants in Georgia’s two largest cities, are named in part for a quirk of local history. In 1958, a U.S. fighter jet flying off Tybee Island collided with a B-47 plane that was armed with a nuclear bomb. The plane jettisoned the bomb to prevent it from exploding, and it was never recovered; that “salt bomb” is now believed to be buried under the sea somewhere in Wassaw Sound. Tybee Oyster Company’s success is proof that the state’s careful revival is working. But overall, progress has been slow: Six years after the general assembly legalized the industry, only nine leases have been awarded, and just four of those are actively farming oysters. An oyster’s journey from spat, aka baby oysters, to harvest takes between 12 and 19 monthsPhotograph by Virginie Drujon-Kippelen Hathcock shucking an oysterPhotograph by Virginie Drujon-Kippelen More are expected this year, says Tom Bliss, director of the Shellfish Research Laboratory, an oyster hatchery on Skidaway Island created in 2015 by marine scientists from the University of Georgia Marine Extension and Georgia Sea Grant. The lab conducts research on shellfish aquaculture and, over the past decade, has provided a road map to the rest of the nascent aquaculture industry. But it’s a long road from seed to harvest, Bliss acknowledges. “You’ve got to stay on top of it—there is a lot of manual labor that goes in,” he says. “And having a good storm plan, because if a hurricane comes in and you’re not prepared, that can definitely take things out.” For Bryan Rackley, co-owner at Kimball House and the indefatigable cheerleader for the oyster-farming industry in the South, the future of Georgia’s oyster industry looks brighter than ever. “This year will be a huge turning point just because we’ve gotten to a legislative point where people can farm year-round,” he says, referring to the Georgia Board of Natural Resources’ recent approval to extend the harvest season year-round. The board also introduced strict conditions for time and temperature controls and cold-chain management procedures. In terms of quality, Rackley says Georgia’s oysters are already on par with those from rival regions. Fairly salty, Georgia oysters often have a pleasant lemongrass flavor, and because they are farmed in a controlled environment, they generally have a consistent taste throughout the seasons. Plus, demand is high: Farmed oyster singles have a higher market value than clumped wild-caught ones, and the state’s fine-dining chefs have long waited to put more local oysters on the menu. Even as the industry expands, the Solomons say the biggest hurdle to larger growth is the regulatory process to obtain a lease and start a business. “There are at least four different regulatory bodies we deal with, and none of them really work together,” says Perry. Nevertheless, the Solomons are hopeful that their work, along with the upwelling support from restaurateurs and consumers alike, will eventually pay off and inspire others to follow their path and grow the state’s fledgling oyster industry. “At the end of the day, what we were looking for was an outlet to be creative,” says Laura. “Not just to be a consumer, but to produce something that nourishes people and nourishes the community.” This article appears in our March 2026 issue. The post With sustainable aquaculture, Georgia’s oyster industry is making a promising comeback appeared first on Atlanta Magazine. ...read more read less