Crabs, Crabs, and (I hope) More Crabs

I heard a call from Big Jack. I set down the dish I had been drying and rushed up on deck. I hurried over to where he was standing and peered into the water. Directly below us was a circle of metal with a baggy net hanging from the ring.Currently it was flat on the bottom but if it was pulled up, the net would make a cone. There was a small scrap of rotting meat lying in the middle of the circle. We watched for crabs from the deck of Sila, a few meters above. When one came onto the net, we could haul up and take the crab when it reached the surface.

Big Jack pointed out three crabs that were edging closer. Suddenly the two closest scuttled together and began pushing each other away with their claws. The fight ended quickly; the biggest one won. Still, it was amazing to watch the crabs fight over the bait that would mean their end. A moment later, we hauled up the bigger of the two crabs.

Big Jack and I continued crabbing with no luck until a man, who lives alone on this little island and sells seafood to fisherman for a living, rowed over. We had met him earlier that day. We showed him our catch and how we were doing it as well as our trap, which needed patching up. He then took Big Jack in his little rowboat and hauled two traps. I was watching with binoculars so I could see that the traps were jam packed. He selected the biggest crabs and brought them back to us in a mesh bag. We happily accepted the huge crabs.

The next morning once we were underway, we put the crabs to steam and Mama, Big Jack and I started picking them in the cockpit under a brilliant blue sky. The first batch was under cooked and hard to pick. The second, third and fourth were all well cooked and we got a ton of meat out of them. It was now late in the morning so Big Jack and I set about making crab cakes. It wasn't until 1:30 that we enjoyed the hot crab cakes with Mama's home made tarter sauce. They were delicious and all the work we put into making them helped me make sense of how expensive pre-picked crab is.

I was threading a thin piece of line carefully through. I pulled tightening my weave and tied off the end. I stepped back, looking at my work. Noticing another hole, I cut more line and began weaving again. Big Jack was also weaving. I stepped back and looked at the trap. There are rusty bars that hold it together. A large piece of stained plastic, the original green netting, yellow and blue twine from the original owner's repairs, and our bright white and faded red line all made the trap bright and, in my opinion, pretty.

The two of us then put to sea in the dinghy with just the bucket. We continued down the shore until we saw some mussels. We quickly filled up the bucket, adding the occasional crushed mussel. When we returned, we filled a large mesh bag with the mussels and tied it into the trap. We lowered it and then let the evening pass.

I woke up in the morning to write this, and make coffee, and I am now learning how hard it is to put your fingers on the home row of the keyboard when they are crossed. Obviously, I am hoping that we caught some crab and cannot wait to go pull the trap up. You will have to wait even longer, until my next blog installment, to find out what happened. - Porter