“The place picked us,” says Matt Gray of his family’s home and the surrounding 18 acres.

Born at Cape Cod Hospital, Matt Gray spent his childhood in West Barnstable and Hyannis. Ten years ago, he and wife Sam finally got the opportunity to purchase an antique house and adjoining former sheep farm in West Barnstable, near the area known as “Finn Town,” where many Finnish immigrants settled.

”It was virtually untouched for generations,” says Matt. “We’re bringing a new history to it.”

One decade in finds Matt and Sam and their two teenage children embracing the land they’re stewarding, the animals they’re raising, and the solar salt production they’re pursuing, all on 18 acres bordering the nearly 3700 acres of the West Barnstable Great Marsh.

In the distance, there are fences marking the boundaries of neighboring properties that were once cattle and sheep farms. Streams cut paths through the marsh – some narrow, others not – with the widest more like canals, revealing worn stumps of wood: long-forgotten posts for boats to tie up to.

Matt and Sam’s journey is the result of exploring the less-travelled route. Sam grew up in suburban Long Island, then took a chance on a more outdoor life over 20 years ago, earning a park ranger position on the Cape. She loves it and has been stationed at the Cape Cod Canal for years.

Matt cooked at several established restaurants, both on and off Cape. An experienced antiques dealer, over the years he’s bought, repaired and continues to sell pieces. When the children were young, the couple hoped for a special property on the Cape. Delighted to finally find this spectacular spot, they dug in to repair the home – interior and exterior – including installing a proper indoor bathroom. Clearing the land closest to the house, though, was challenging and downright gritty work.

“There was broken glass and brambles, with lots of poison ivy peppered in,” says Matt.

Thus, the goats arrived.

Sourced to help get the land under control, the Grays purchased several. It was about this time that they tried evaporating seawater collected at the marsh by simmering it on their wood stove to create salt for their own use. It was delicious; a nod to the thousands of saltworks built on Cape Cod in the late 1800s. By now chickens were also in the mix, and their young daughter’s sketch of a hen perched atop one of the goats would later become the perfect logo.

Next, they located a breeder to purchase lambs of a variety they sought to help with vegetation control and provide food for the family: Finnsheep, a domestic sheep breed native to Finland. Each day they follow Matt from the manicured grasses near the family home, through woodlands, over narrow planks set across streams and past underbrush, giving them access to a full menu of woody perennials, annual plants and shrubs. Matt rotates their feeding spots, directing them to areas cordoned off with electric guidelines, so that each location has the time it needs to revitalize and regrow after heavy munching by the crew.

The property itself is enrolled in the Massachusetts Chapter 61 Forestry Management Plan, whereby the Grays work with a Massachusetts State-certified forester to control invasive organisms, promote biodiversity and sustainably produce forestry products. A Chapter 61 designation indicates a commitment of the landowners not to develop the land, but to steward it, essentially helping the land thrive for future generations.

As they explored and learned more about their land, aptly naming it Great Marsh Farm, the Grays found and created products they could harvest and offer at their farm stand, including firewood, holly, and wreaths woven from grapevines and the bright crimson winter berries that thrive in marshside locations where they can have “wet feet.”

Encouraged by family and “foodie” friends that their marsh-sourced salt was a keeper, it was time to move beyond the tiny batches they could create in their kitchen. After researching solar evaporation techniques, the Grays erected a solar tunnel to the specifications required for product safety. All structural supports need to be metal, and the floor must be tiled to meet food production standards, plus other details to keep the work area hygienic.

“There were a lot of start-up expenses,” says Matt, “yet to produce a food grade product, it was the cost of doing business.”

Intent on fine-tuning their business skills, he is close to completing the non-profit EforAll Cape Cod program that supports local entrepreneurs, helping them to gain knowledge and navigate a seasonal economy.

“It’s been super helpful,” says Matt.

Inside the doorway of the saltworks (the door is always kept closed to keep critters at bay) there are two rectangular side-by-side evaporation pools draped in heavy black liners. Depending on the point in the process, the water levels in both may be quite full, half full or nearly empty.

Each batch begins with about 275 gallons of salt water, filtered twice, and then split evenly between the two pools. In approximately a month to seven weeks, enough crystallization and evaporation occurs so that the salt can be shoveled and moved to the final drying trays.

At the far end of the structure dangle two blue colored tools, both affixed to long handles. The first, a wide blade, is dragged across each of the pools when they’re almost empty of liquid to bring the salt crystals to one end of the pools. The second, a large shovel, will carry and then deposit the salt crystals to racks for further drying. The final yield is about 30 pounds of salt from the approximately 275 gallons of seawater.

To harvest and transport the salt water, Matt hauls a large IBC (Industrial Bulk Container, purchased spanking new to meet standards) behind his truck. Trial and error and lots of sampling by friends who are chefs bolstered the Gray’s belief that specific locations within the marsh might yield different complexities of taste in each batch of salt.

Presently, seawater is pumped from two distinct Great Marsh sites, one yielding a larger white crystal, and the other a finer grain with a dull, slight grey tinge; the latter being a more unique and somewhat earthier flavor. Not unlike oysters where the “meroir” – or place in the sea where they grow – affects their flavor, Matt is highlighting the differences in taste he discovers depending on the particular area from which the seawater is harvested.

Near the saltworks, bee hives were installed, but with Sam’s urging they were relocated to the rear of the property to greater access the blossoms of high bush blueberries and other woody plants when they flower. Matt points out cuts in the trunk of one enormous blueberry bush, made over 50 years ago. Indeed, the honey production has increased to the level that jars are often available for sale at the farm stand or at one of the farmers’ markets Great Marsh Farm attends.

Blueberries never make it to either the farm stand or the markets. “We have the best intention of gathering enough to freeze for our own use later on, yet they’re so good at that moment when you pick,” says Sam with a smile, “that it never quite happens.”

Ultimately, the decision was made to not continue with goats. Now only one, Daisy, remains.

“I got a hint early on that they just might not work out, when, instead of grazing near our home, they began eating the shingles,” grins Matt, “and their great escape five years ago sealed the deal.”

He explains that the family had returned home from an evening out to celebrate their wedding anniversary and found that, spooked by a passing lightning storm, they escaped, ran down the road, and several sought shelter in the neighborhood liquor store, where blue police lights were flashing, visible from the front yard.

“Each time the employees could corral them back outside, the lightning returned, and they rushed back in,” says Matt. “They couldn’t defend themselves either – the evidence of their visit was caught on tape and liked by thousands on social media.”

The sheep, now totaling nine, have roamed and fed on their farm – so far at least. They continue to rotate from upland pastures to the edge of the marsh, traveling through a range of species that have grown there for over fifty years, including red maple, shrub pine, blueberries, winter berries, tupelo, hickory and serviceberry.

“This,” says Matt, “is the early successional habitat that animals need to survive, and few places grow it anymore. There’s woodcocks and many other migratory birds, tons of wildflowers like bluets and tiny, yet just the sweetest, wild strawberries.”

It’s the place where his family gathers, even in the cooler shoulder seasons, to enjoy a barbecue of lamb raised on this land, and homegrown veggies, served with a pinch of salt.

“We’ve created this unique high-quality product and put a lot of good energy into making this place better than it was,” says Matt.

The Grays are now planning for the construction of their second salt evaporation tunnel. This time, the layout will have more square footage for production, and by staggering start dates, they can piggyback and use the finishing equipment like the drying racks in their first space, for the salt produced in the second. Despite the significant cost of expansion, they’re excited.

“You get out of it,” says Matt with a smile, “what you put into it.”

As with several past experiences, some of writer Michelle Koch’s favorite visits seem to involve roaming near the sea with sheep.

Great Marsh Farm Stand
Corner of Route 6A and Navigation Road
West Barnstable
[email protected]
Mashpee and Falmouth farmers’ markets
(check the farmers’ market guide in this issue for dates)

EForAll CapeCod
EForAll.org/ma/cape-cod