The Apalachicola Bay is known worldwide for its oysters. They were a major economic driver in the area for decades. But the bay has struggled for a generation. Five years ago, the state closed the bay to wild oyster harvesting, and now, as the state considers a partial reopening, some who live on what’s called the Forgotten Coast wonder if their economy is changing yet again.
Apalachicola’s economy hasn’t always been based on seafood. According to the city’s website, the timber and cotton industries were prevalent from before the Civil War until well into the 20th century. Rail commerce flourished until the timber resources dwindled. And Apalachicola was once a major part of Florida’s sponge industry—at one point ranking third in the state.
“They used to free-dive the sponges back in the day, and then they went to the hard helmet diving with the suits and the forced air into the helmets," said Jerry Garlick.
Garlick has been in the sponge industry since 1995 and runs a sponge shop in Apalachicola’s tourist district. There he displays one of the old diving suits with a bell helmet.
“The only divers that use that method today are the deep-sea divers who work on the oil rigs, and they have to go very deep," he said.
Garlick says the sponge trade has drifted south to Carrabelle, Cedar Key and Tarpon Springs – partly because sponges thrive in deeper water. But they need the same mix of salt- and freshwater that the oysters do.
“A lot of the divers from Apalachicola moved because they had Greek relatives there," said Garlick. "This was once a Greek town here in Apalachicola, too. So, they harvested oysters, mullet for fish, the sponge, blue crabs. This was once a very thriving area for seafood and the sponge industry.”
Apalachicola’s seafood industry goes back more than 175 years, shaping its culture. Oysters came first, sold locally as early as 1836, harvested with scissor-shaped tongs—the same tool wild harvesters use today. But as the health of the bay has dwindled, largely because of water issues—including what many say is an overdraw from bigger cities upstream—the oyster and seafood industry has dwindled too.
“Once the commercial seafood arc ended around here – that was 60s, 70s, 80s when that really started to turn –
Apalachicola City Commissioner Adriane Elliott is from a family that’s lived in the area for eight generations. They’ve run merchant lines and been involved in the seafood trade. Her grandfather served on the city commission for 36 years, and when he retired, she ran for his seat and won.
" – around the 80s is when Apalachicola established our historic district," Elliott said. "So that’s when you can see a marked turn towards heritage and ecotourism. That’s around when St. George Island started to develop from just an empty island sitting out there to the tourist destination that it is now.”
During her lifetime, Elliott says, she’s seen the hospitality industry climb, but in 2008 when the housing market crisis caused a global financial panic, they felt it in Apalachicola.
“And then everything after Hurricane Michael that severely impacted a lot of restaurants, and families, blue-collar workers that were in the economy here that were either forced out because they didn’t have a job to go back to anymore," she said. "And then you have Covid. If you worked in hospitality or service, you couldn’t go to work, or it became very, very difficult to do your job. A lot of people left the industry and took their families and moved to other areas.”
Now, as the state considers reopening the bay, people like Franklin County Commissioner Ottice Amison are watching carefully. Amison owns a seafood company and has lived in the area all his life, except for his military service.
“As far as the bay goes, our foundation is the oyster bars," he said. "And it has an effect on every little thing out there. If those oyster bars aren’t healthy and thriving, it affects fish all the way to 50 miles offshore. That goes for tarpon, speckled trout, you know, everything. Snappers, groupers, all the way down the line.”
The Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission has approved a management plan to partly re-open the bay. It will run from the beginning of January through February, then a regular fall season starting in October 2026.
“Maybe we can get it back," Amison said. "That’s the goal. A healthy bay is not just going to help the commercial oystermen, but it’s going to help the farmers, it’s going to help the guide fishermen, it’s going to help everybody.”
Now the economy is drifting more to ecotourism – to people who come for the remaining beauty of the Forgotten Coast.
