St. Francisville's Oyster Bar Resurfaces

Hell or High Water

The Oyster Bar Returns

James Fox-Smith

The last time I paid a visit to the Oyster Bar was by kayak. It was April: the Mississippi River was running at around forty-four feet at the Baton Rouge gauge, and the iconic dive bar—which has clung to what passes for high ground along the south bank of St. Francisville's Bayou Sara since the 1950s—was almost completely submerged. As I paddled the path of Ferdinand Street, which leads to the old ferry landing when the river is within its banks, all that remained visible of the sturdy little building was its red tin roof, onto which I climbed to take a break from fighting the cross current. Suffice it to say that the Oyster Bar was not open for business.

Given that high water events like last spring’s flood have increasingly become a regular event of life along the lower Mississippi, it might be a surprise to learn that the Oyster Bar is, in fact, soon to re-open—lively as ever. Davis Havard, its latest proprietor, knows exactly what he is getting into. “I’ve drunk more than a few beers up on that roof when the water’s been high,” acknowledged Havard, a St. Francisville native and chef, who took a break from working on the building’s interior one December day to show a visitor around. A long-time patron, Havard estimates he has probably helped the Oyster Bar’s various proprietors move in and out six or seven times over the years. “You’ve got to open up the doors and windows, move everything out that might build up pressure, and just let the water flow through,” he says. “Then, when the water goes down you hose everything down, let it dry out, and start over.” With his renovation, Havard is taking the “dive bar” concept to new heights (or depths), setting all the Oyster Bar’s equipment on casters for easy removal, tearing out the old, low ceiling to reveal the surprisingly handsome vaulted woodwork above, and fitting electrical and plumbing systems designed to withstand prolonged submersion. Interior surfaces finished with reclaimed oak and cypress will be none the worse for occasional dips. Is it a coincidence that the sturdy front door features a window shaped like a porthole? We think not. In this age of rising tides, Havard might be onto something.

One of the Oyster Bar’s main attractions has always been its location: perched on a bluff overlooking a pretty stretch of Bayou Sara (when the river’s running below forty feet, anyway). During recent months a Corps of Engineers project has added significant reinforcement along this stretch of the bayou, cutting back and leveling the bluff beyond the bar’s covered back porch to create a broad swath of riverbank that cries out for some outdoor seating, a deck, firepit, and maybe a few canoes and kayaks for rent. While these might not all be in place when the Oyster Bar opens in mid-January, they’re all on Havard’s to-do list. In the meantime, returning patrons can look forward to enjoying a couple of cold beers and a limited menu of Southern staples that reflect Havard’s time cooking in local kitchens at Heirloom Cuisine and the St. Francisville Inn. Word has it there might be actual oysters on the menu this time—an Oyster Bar first, so far as we know. And when spring comes, and the river rises, what then? “I look on the bright side,” Havard says. “A month’s vacation each spring doesn’t sound bad.”