136--Alaska: Feeling Crabby
@ CherieSpotting Jul 16 2003 - 05:32 PST

cherie writes: Rick yelled from the helm: “Cherie, do you feel like crab?”

“My skin’s a little dry, but I wouldn’t go that far.”

With that, Greg and I set out in the dinghy to set the crab pots. Isabelle baited the pots with the salmon carcasses, and Rick started making fresh sour dough bread.

We weren’t the only ones that wanted crab for dinner. Other crabber’s pots circled the cove like a red and white beaded necklace. A few hours later, Sue reeled in the Crab pots like a pro.

Rick examined each crab and threw an overgrown sea-star back. All the females got life; you aren’t allowed to keep them. The smaller male crabs were also given another chance as Rick hucked them one by one back into the sea. “Life is tough,” Rick declared. “Especially if you are a male crab over 6.5 inches.”

“You’re a real crabber now!” I yelled. Witty Sue hollered back: “I’ve been called crabby before, but never a crabber!”

A few hours later we feasted on sweet Dungeness crab and fresh sourdough bread. That meal was the best meal of my life. The crab melted on my tongue like a sweet pat of butter. Sadly, the meal was out-done each night after that by another one of Rick’s delicious sea-food creations.