When duck was king

Once, they were everywhere. From East Patchogue to Remsenberg, along the South Shore coastline and north across much of Riverhead, duck farms drove the local economy.

The Corwin family Crescent Farm closure last month may have ended the more than century-long period when Long Island duckling was on plates and restaurant menus around the world.

From meat to feathers to fertilizer, duck farming was a major driver of the local rural economy. A 2009 report by the Suffolk County Department of Planning, “LI Duck Farm History and Ecosystem Restoration Opportunities,” charts the growth of the industry from the introduction of the Peking duck to the region in 1873.

By 1900, 30 farms operated on Long Island where proximity to creeks, rivers, and the Great South Bay, a temperate climate, abundant open land, sandy soil, local feed production and good transportation to markets in NYC made eastern Suffolk County a perfect place for duck farming.

By 1940, that number had grown to 90 farms; 30 of these operated between Moriches and Eastport, employing both family and community members, including recent immigrants and spanning more than 224 acres. Popular for their rapid growth and market-readiness at a desirable 5 to 7 pounds within 10 to 12 weeks after hatching, Peking ducks became a profitable business that soon overtook production of other crops and commercial fishing.

Speonk’s Atlantic Duck Farm, started in the 1880s, was the largest duck farm in the world between 1916 and 1938 when the historic September hurricane destroyed it. After Atlantic closed, the Hollis Warner farm in Riverhead nearly doubled Atlantic’s production rate, to 500,000 per year. Concurrently, 30 farms operated between Forge River in Moriches and Eastport, including seven on the east side of the Terrell River.

Along with potatoes, Long Island duckling soon became one of our most famous products. And its influence could be felt in small towns economically, environmentally and socially.

Economically, duck farms employed thousands of people. Multiple generations of a family worked together. Men like Bill Harvey spent their entire career working on a farm. Eldest sons of farmers were granted wartime service deferment to ensure adequate food production during World War II. Once the ducks were ready for market, they were driven to processing facilities like one run on Chichester Avenue by the Bernstein family or the co-operative in Eastport.

Workers, many of them immigrant women, removed feathers and organs. Innards were sold as animal feed. Feathers were sent to Speonk for cleaning and packaging, the meat to restaurants and markets, many of them in NYC. Used straw from the duck barns was sold to area farmers for fertilizer.

Yet, the proliferation of ducks on local waterways inevitably added concentrated layers of guano and attendant bacteria to water resources, making them less desirable for fishing and recreation. Conservation officers marked off areas to prevent shell fishing where bacteria counts were high. Some villages had a smell that residents felt discouraged tourism.

But the duck’s presence was also part of the social fabric of the time here. The Big Duck, originally created in 1931 by Martin Mauer to promote his duck products, is now a local landmark included on the National Register of Historic Places. From the 1950s to the mid-1960s, the LI Duck Queen beauty pageant was held at the Riverhead Elks Club.

And, well into the 21st century, events like the annual Moriches Yacht Club Duck Barbecue and the Rotary Club’s annual Duck Race and Barbecue to benefit Camp Paquatuck continued to draw participants eager to celebrate the sovereignty of LI duckling.

NOTE: Ann Wilcox and Herb Strobel, former and current Center Moriches residents, respectively, generously contributed some of the details included in this story.