https://www.amazon.ca/stores/author/B0BMTM18PW
The first evening of
our vacation on the west coast of Vancouver Island we went down to the docks. A
man and three kids (two young girls and a teen-ageish boy) stood peering into
the water. Two plastic five-gallon pails, a backpack, a small speaker playing catchy
dance tunes and a variety of traps attached to ropes were lined up behind them.
You know me, I have to ask. “What are you guys doing?”
“Crabbing.” The man swings the rope attached to his trap back and forth in the air before he releases it into the waves.
“Cool. We’re from Calgary so,” I point at their paraphernalia, “this is new to us.”
And away he goes.
“The kids and I usually come down after supper.”
“Not when it’s raining,” his young daughter pipes in.
“I stand corrected. Except when it’s raining.” He tips his head at her. “We turn on the tunes so the girls can sing and dance when they get bored and Colton and I see what we can catch.
He points his thumb at his son. “We dance less and crab more.”
The older girl laughs as she drops her trap into the water. “That’s because they’re horrible dancers.”
“Crab lesson number one. Only keep male crabs.” The Dad puts his hand in the bucket of water and pulls out a crab. “You tell their sex by flipping them over. See this?” He points to a lighthouse looking shape on the crab’s underbelly. “He’s a male. That’s his pointy penis.”
Both girls put a hand
over their mouth and giggle.
“I don’t have a female one to show you, but their undersides look more like a beehive.” He puts the crab back in the pail. “You can only keep Dungeness crabs that are six-and-a-half-inches or larger and Red Rock crabs that are four-and-a-half-inches or more.” He holds one up. “This one’s a Dungeness and he's keeper.”
There’s an excited whoop from Colton at the other end of the wharf.
“I got a big one.” He plucks the crab out of the cage and there’s a screech - from Colton not the crab. Colton rushes towards his dad with the crab securely attached to his thumb.
“Stay still or he’ll pinch harder,” Dad says as he grabs the pail of water full of crabs and sets it in front of Colton. “He’s got you good.”
“It hurts.” Colton bites his bottom lip.
Dad supports the underbelly of the crab and lowers Colton’s hand into the bucket. When the crab hits the water, it lets go and scurries under the other crabs. Colton waves his hand in the air, and I go over to check out his wound. Four deep crescent shaped cuts bleed as he squeezes the tip of his thumb.
One of his sisters brings a bottle of antiseptic. “This is gonna hurt.” She smiles.
“Jerk.” Colton closes his eyes.
“Be nice.” Dad shakes a finger at them. “Both of you.”
Colton bites his bottom lip again and winces as his sister pours on the pain.
“Don’t put it in your mouth,” she says.
He rolls his eyes at her and walks away.
“You have to grab them like this.” Dad demonstrates proper crab grabbing technique. “They’re fast and aggressive. It’s easy to get pinched.”
“There’s Sunny,” the youngest daughter shouts as she hip hops across the wharf and points in the water.
We all stare ... and as if on cue - a long eye lashed seal pops their head up as they glide by and then ducks under the next wave.
“That’s a great name,” I say. “She’s lovely.”
“I don’t know if it’s a he or she.” The girl shrugs. “I just like the name Sunny.”
Crab facts you may not know:
- female
crabs must molt their hard shell before they can mate. The male crab hugs and
protects the female for days until she sheds and then stands guard until her
new shell rehardens. Now that’s a true knight.
- crabs
have eyestalks that swivel in all directions. When they hide under the sand,
they use their eyes like mini periscopes.
- the majority of crabs skuttle sideways and dig
into the sand butt first, so their head is close to the surface to feed and
watch for predators.
- the purple shore crab is common and can grow to
two inches wide. It comes in every colour except purple – insert WTH emoji.
I sigh. I’m not sure which I enjoyed more – the crab trivia or the interaction with the family. A delightful start to our holiday.
Baker, Barbara - BWL
Publishing Inc. (bookswelove.net)
Barbara Baker Author Page Facebook
Summer of Lies by
Barbara Baker — BWL Publishing
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