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A D V E R T I S E M E N T

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Author Topic: Fondest Crabbing Memory  (Read 273 times)
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Crabslayer
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« on: October 17, 2018, 10:20:26 AM »

What was your fondest crabbing memory?

I have several since I've been doing this for a long time but here are just a few.

Top of the list is when the Mrs would accompany me.  Some nice chats about what we accomplished together.

Next was trot lining one November on All Saints day at my mom's on Greenwood Creek.  It was snowing and the geese were flying and honking.  Man did those crabs smell good steaming outside.  I had all the neighbors poking their head out the door.

But there was this one time on the same river with 2 nitwits.  One from Philly and the other from Jersey.  Between the subs from Pat's and the smell of Stogies and drinking red vino from a Mason jar these two had me rolling on the floor of my boat laughing so hard I pissed my pants!

Care to take a stab as to who these 2 nitwits were?  I'll give you a hint.  A seagull took a dump on the Chrome Dome and the other has a special salute!  Grin
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« Reply #1 on: October 17, 2018, 10:25:09 AM »

I been trying to find that pic for years.   Grin laugh
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« Reply #2 on: October 17, 2018, 11:17:33 AM »

I been trying to find that pic for years.   Grin laugh

I know the 2 nitwits.  I have been out there several times myself with them.  Life will never be the same since....  LMAO
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« Reply #3 on: October 17, 2018, 12:34:42 PM »

10 years old and crabbin the Wye for the first time with my father and grandfather on a rented  boat from  the same guys who are still runnin the place. It was dad and pops first time there also and we ddn't know where to crab. We found a spot where there were cows on shore grazing and dad used his net to find 5-6 ft and we layed 300 ft of tarred sisel rope with cn twisted inbetween the 3 cords. i got to dip first run and there were giant crabs on almost every bait. dad had made a huge net as he always did whenever 1 would wear out and on that first run i dipped till the net was over full and broke the handel right near the rim. luckily we had an older net as a spare and although i didn't get to dip much more that day without harsh direction on when to empty the net it was my favorite trip ever. i belive there were 42 or 45 inthat bu.
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« Reply #4 on: October 17, 2018, 12:43:14 PM »

This isn't a singular memory, but a series of basically the same situation.  We crabbed mostly from the pier where my grandfather kept his boat.  After it got dark the crabs would swim to the surface towards the pier lights.  My father and I would go out with a flashlight and stand under that light netting crabs off the surface.  If the crab was too far away we would use the flashlight to bring them in closer.

It was always just my father and I, no one else ever wanted to partake in the activity or the mosquito bites.  We might get a dozen crabs like that, maybe less, but it wasn't necessarily about the crabs as much as it was quality time between father and son.
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« Reply #5 on: October 17, 2018, 02:02:18 PM »

All of my crabbing trips are great moments to remember. But crabbing with the person who introduce me to crabbing is the fondest. Thanks Dad for being there with me.
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« Reply #6 on: October 17, 2018, 07:28:41 PM »

I been trying to find that pic for years.   Grin laugh

This one, perhaps?
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« Reply #7 on: October 18, 2018, 10:12:06 AM »

No.  It's where a seagull dumped its load on the Chrome Dome's head.
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« Reply #8 on: October 19, 2018, 07:24:53 PM »

10 years old and crabbin the Wye for the first time with my father and grandfather on a rented  boat from  the same guys who are still runnin the place. It was dad and pops first time there also and we ddn't know where to crab. We found a spot where there were cows on shore grazing and dad used his net to find 5-6 ft and we layed 300 ft of tarred sisel rope with cn twisted inbetween the 3 cords. i got to dip first run and there were giant crabs on almost every bait. dad had made a huge net as he always did whenever 1 would wear out and on that first run i dipped till the net was over full and broke the handel right near the rim. luckily we had an older net as a spare and although i didn't get to dip much more that day without harsh direction on when to empty the net it was my favorite trip ever. i belive there were 42 or 45 inthat bu.
It sounds like de javu. Almost to the letter of your memory . Net handle depth finder tarred rope. All of it. Mid 70s  the late for the walk down memory lane. Only difference was my dad and uncle. But the net story was the same. Wow
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« Reply #9 on: October 20, 2018, 07:42:54 PM »

1965, I was 9 years old. Went out with my dad, my dads friend and his son, who was 14. We were walking in the shallow water, scapping crabs, with an inner tube and basket tied to each of us. The whole way out to our spot, the 14 year old was bragging about how good he was and how he was going to catch the most crabs. We all did well, but I caught 78, which was about twice as many as everyone else. Awesome day crabbing and an awesome family crab feast that night!
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« Reply #10 on: Yesterday at 11:14:20 AM »

 It was somewhere in the mid 1970's . We launched at Schnaitman's  around 5:00 P. M. in the afternoon and we were going to spend the night on the river anchored at the mouth of a cove beyond the bridge at the narrows ( NOT COVENTON COVE ) . We were drifting down the river just talking when this Comm boat approached my boat. An older man was at the helm and he said hello to us and we responded likewise to him. He said, " Do you mind if we tied our boats together "  and I said no I don't have a problem with that so there we were drifting down the river tied together chatting with one another. I said " Would you like to have an ice  cold beer " ? He said yes that would be nice . I came to find out he lived at the far end of the river where you turn to enter Eastern Bay. I told him we were going to spend the night on the water and we were going to crab in the morning. It started to get late and he was going to head home for supper, as he pulled away I looked for the name on his boat " WYE RIVER QUEEN " I never forgot that boat and it was a trip that I will never forget, it was fun ! In the morning we had breakfast on board bacon eggs and home fried potatoes with a hot cup of mud, now we were ready to do some serious crabbing. I had an 18 foot Slickcraft boat at that time and she was equipped to run trot lines. With my Bride at the helm after we laid two 2,250 foot lines we started to crab, as I remember, it I could not keep up with the crabs that were on those lines. There were crabs on just about every bait. I was using salt eel for bait and it was crazy with all of them giant crabs. It did not take us very long to fill our basket with giant Wye River crabs and we were on our way back home before 9:00 A M . Here is some of the pictures from that era. We hope that you enjoyed this memory of times past !

please click on any of the pictures to get a better view.   THANK YOU.

   Bob & Arlene G >>>>>>FROM LONG AGO !
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« Reply #11 on: Today at 07:35:48 PM »

Bobby,

It's so cool that you not only took those pics, but kept them around long enough to share them.  I used to have a Kodak Instamatic that I won selling candy in middle school, and those pics remind me of the high quality photos it used to take.  That camera had kickback!!  First time I took a picture, the spring clicked and I fell over backwards.   laugh laugh

Anyway, thanks for sharing.
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Oh, de crab, he taste so fine.
Yuh catch 'um wid a neck an' a line.
Bile de water 'til 'e good 'n hot.
Den eat de crab strait from 'de pot.

Oh, de beer, he taste so chilly.
Drinks it 'til I gets too silly.
Washin' down 'de crab an' butter.
If I doesn't fall down, I'll 'ave anudder.
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« Reply #12 on: Today at 07:42:50 PM »

A few years ago, a member (Ravendave) asked if I would write a story about my first crabbing trip, or an early crabbing trip, or something like that, for a newsletter he wanted to start publishing.  I wrote the following story.  It's a true story in a way, but it might actually be a story about a few trips that got somehow combined into one memory.  Who knows?

It was sometime in the late 60’s,
when men no younger than my father
were being shipped, by the planeload,
to a country most had never heard of
until it started showing up every night
on the six o’clock news. I didn’t always
think so at the time, but I was lucky to
have my Dad back here in the States,
always willing and ready to let me tag
along on his many outdoor excursions.
OK, he was not always willing. But he
would usually bend once he saw the
rolling pin in Mom’s hand.
 As far as I can remember, the day
started with a shake and a whisper from
Mom and Dad. It was time. I opened
my eyes and couldn’t understand. It
was the middle of the night, for gosh
sakes! What were they thinking!? Dad
carried me downstairs as I fought to
stay awake, while Mom plopped a lunch
bag on my lap loaded with a bologna
and cheese with mustard, a few chips,
and a jar of cherry Kool-Aid.
 We made a quick stop in town to pick
up a “friend” of my Dad’s. Dad said his
name was Fingers. If Fingers were alive
today, I’m sure he would hold the title of
the oldest man on Earth, because even
then, I had my doubts that he was going
to make it to the car, let alone make it
through a day of crabbing. His shoulders
drooped forward with the weight of
his 80 years, and he wore a sweater
that was dried on the coat hanger he
pulled it from, leaving what looked like a
small teepee poking up on each shoulder.
I just figured his old bones were
sticking out.
 I remember watching Dad tying up the
bunker as we sat anchored just a short
drive from one of the namesakes of
Seven Bridges Road in Tuckerton. Fingers
didn’t help at all. He wasn’t being
rude, it just happens that he was missing
something very important……. most
of his fingers! To a 5-year-old kid, this
was a horror beyond horrors – to live
with no fingers, and bones sticking out
of your back!
 As the day wore on, and the August
sun chased us under the bridge for relief,
we ate lunch (at 8:00 am, how
cool), we listened to the seagulls, and
felt the occasional car rumble over the
bridge above us. We talked, and we
filled the basket with crabs. Feisty little
creatures, those crabs, and though I
wasn’t afraid of them, I kept a close
watch. After teasing my first crab, I was
sure I didn’t have to ask Dad how “Fingers”
lost his fingers.
 Not quite 50 years later, as the waters
begin to warm, I find myself a very lucky
man to be able to not just return the
favor to my Dad, but also to pass on my
love of the water to my son and daughter.
Fingers may be long gone, but
soon, very soon, I’ll wake up Dad with a
shake and a whisper, wake my own son
and daughter the same way, maybe
pick up a friend, and head out on the
water once again. A lucky man, indeed

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Oh, de crab, he taste so fine.
Yuh catch 'um wid a neck an' a line.
Bile de water 'til 'e good 'n hot.
Den eat de crab strait from 'de pot.

Oh, de beer, he taste so chilly.
Drinks it 'til I gets too silly.
Washin' down 'de crab an' butter.
If I doesn't fall down, I'll 'ave anudder.

A D V E R T I S E M E N T


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