At the heart of his campaign lies his role as an oysterman, and it’s difficult to envision anyone who has a passion for oystering quite like Platner does.
“This is my workplace,” he proudly declares, extending his arms toward a stretch of Frenchman Bay, its waters glistening in the bright sunshine, where his oyster cages bob cheerfully. As he brings up the cages, he shares that his oysters possess a flavor distinct even from those cultivated a mile away. They boast a singular terroir—ahem, merroir. It’s evident that Platner holds immense pride in the oyster farm he has contributed to developing. “The fact that this place I cherish so deeply produces these delights that people adore, it’s incredibly special,” he states. “It’s profoundly emotional.”
He begins to shuck a few oysters aboard the boat, offering them on the condition that we savor them, not slurp. They are especially meaty, vibrant and salty from the ocean brine, and astonishingly creamy and rich like uni. He continues shucking, tossing the empty shells back into the bay, while he reflects on various aspects of aquaculture and his oyster venture. “We sell everything locally. Nothing gets shipped,” Platner explains. “If you want to enjoy these oysters, you’ve got to visit this corner of the world.”
The same local-centric, community-focused ideology that serves as the backbone of his oyster enterprise has also become a pillar for his political views—or perhaps it is the reverse. “I’m not sure if oystering has influenced my politics,” he mentions, “or if I’ve simply fallen in love with it because it aligns with my political beliefs.”
