Oyster farmer, ocean advocate, Outdoor Lover — meet Abby Barrows
There’s a certain rhythm to life on the water - tides dictating time, weather shaping the day, and patience measured in seasons, not hours. For Abby Barrows, that rhythm plays out along the working waterfront of Stonington, Maine, where lobster boats sway on moorings and granite ledges meet the cold, mineral-rich waters of Penobscot Bay.
As an oyster farmer and scientist, Abby moves between observation and action - growing food, restoring ecosystems, and rethinking aquaculture through a regenerative lens. We caught up with Abby to talk about life on the water, the realities of oyster farming, and what it means to be an Outdoor Lover shaped by the sea.
Where are you right now, and what does your immediate landscape look like?
I’m sitting at a large table that doubles as my desk. When I look up, I see Stonington harbor and the surrounding rocky, evergreen-covered islands. It’s a working waterfront—old wooden piers reaching into the water, granite ledges and quarried stone, and classic New England buildings, some freshly kept and others marked by more than a hundred years of salt air. The harbor is full of lobster boats on moorings, facing west into the prevailing wind, resting on the ever-changing blue-gray waters of Penobscot Bay.
How would you describe your connection to the outdoors in one sentence?
The outdoors isn’t somewhere I go to escape life—it’s where I work, learn, and feel most like myself.
What does a typical day on the oyster farm look like for you?
A typical day starts with checking the weather, tides, and to-do list, then heading out on the water to sort oysters, tend lines, move gear, harvest, or deal with whatever the ocean decided to throw at us that day. Farm work is physical, unpredictable, and shaped by the seasons, and that rhythm of working with the water is one of the things I love most.
You work across science and aquaculture—how do those two worlds inform each other in your daily life?
Science gives me a way of looking closely—asking better questions, noticing patterns, and thinking about long-term impacts. Aquaculture keeps that grounded. It’s practical, physical, and shaped by weather, labor, and the realities of running a working farm. Each makes me better at the other.
What first drew you to oysters and regenerative ocean farming?
I was drawn to oysters because they sit at this incredible intersection of food, ecology, and place. Oyster farming can support coastal livelihoods while also improving water quality and creating habitat, and that felt like a powerful model for how food production can work with nature instead of against it.
“The outdoors isn’t somewhere I go to escape life—it’s where I work, learn, and feel most like myself.”
Do you love eating oysters? What are your favorites and why?
I do love eating oysters. My favorites are clean, briny oysters with a bright mineral finish and a real sense of place—oysters that reflect the water they came from. I like them simply shucked, with nothing to hide behind, also known as a ‘naked oyster'.
The flavor of oysters differs by the merroir (salinity and minerality), or specific marine environment in which they are grown. What is the unique merroir of Deer Isle Oysters?
Deer Isle Oysters are shaped by the cold, rich waters of coastal Maine. Their merroir is bright and balanced—briny, crisp, and deeply mineral, with a clean finish that reflects the granite shoreline, big tides, and the dynamic ecosystem where they grow.
“Once you really see how persistent plastic pollution is, it’s hard to unsee it.”
You’re deeply committed to reducing plastic—how has that shaped the way you run your farm and live day-to-day?
It has shaped almost everything. On the farm, it means constantly asking whether there’s a more durable, less wasteful, and less toxic way to do something, even when the alternatives are harder to find or build. I have been striving to reimagine the future of aquaculture without plastic, which has led to years dedicated to designing, building and trialing plastic-free oyster cultivation gear. In my daily life, it has made me much more conscious of convenience, consumption, and the materials I rely on. Once you really see how persistent plastic pollution is, it’s hard to unsee it.
Being outdoors in Maine comes with extremes—how do you prepare your body and skin for long days on the water throughout the seasons?
Preparation starts with layers, good food, hydration, and respecting the conditions before heading out. On the water in Maine, your skin takes a beating from wind, cold, sun, and salt—sometimes all in one day—so I try to protect my skin barrier and keep things simple, effective, and durable.
What are the biggest challenges facing our oceans right now—and where do you still find optimism?
The biggest challenges are cumulative: plastic pollution, climate change, warming waters, acidification, habitat loss, and the general pressure of asking too much from the ocean without giving enough back. What gives me optimism is that people are paying closer attention, asking harder questions, and building real solutions—from restoration and regenerative farming to materials innovation and community stewardship. I still believe people can change course when they understand what’s at stake.
What is your “pearl of wisdom” that you’d like to share with us all?
Pay attention to what seems normal, because a lot of environmental harm hides inside convenience. Small choices matter—but so does imagination. We must believe better systems are possible before we can build them.
To learn more about Abby's oyster farm check out Deer Isle Oyster Co