Grab That Crab!

Rob Temple
Before.
Before.
Photos by Jack Pauly

The joys of catching crustaceans across the Sound

About this time two years ago, I got a phone call one evening from my friend Tom. 

“We’re going crabbing tomorrow at Mattamuskeet,’ he said, “want to join us?” 

Well, at my age, when an opportunity comes along to try something new, I usually go for it.  Chances are, I’ll really enjoy it and if not, well, I’ll have a new story to tell.

It wasn’t that a crabbing expedition was a new experience for me.  Used to go “chicken-necking” every summer as a kid vacationing at Nags Head.  But that was many years ago and I had never gone crabbing at Mattamuskeet where, Tom had assured me, the crabs were bigger and more plentiful than any I’d ever seen. 

After.
After.

So at 6:30 the following morning, a motley crew of five of us in Tom’s extended cab pickup boarded the ferry for Swan Quarter.  On the trip over, Tom told us all about some of his recent excursions whereupon he had quickly caught his legal limit of particularly large, heavy “jimmies.” He had a rather complex meteorological explanation of why we should expect to do exceptionally well.

As it turned out, we did catch our limit of crabs that day although it took us all day to do it.  That was considerably longer than Tom had anticipated but, like skilled anglers and meteorologists everywhere, he had a quite plausible explanation for that as well. 

“The sudden drop in temperature from this most recent cold front has stunned them a little,” he said.  “Notice how they really didn’t start biting until the day warmed up a little?”

After a couple of hours of crabbing we were feeling a little hungry and were all a bit relieved when Tom instructed us to bring in the baits and head for the truck.  It was time for the short drive up to Martel’s Feed House in Engelhard for the famous buffet lunch.

Crabbing spot.
Crabbing spot.

With our appetites satisfied, we all began to catch a second wind and eagerly returned to the dam near the lake for a couple of more hours of crabbing. 

The following evening Tom had us all over to his house where we feasted royally on our catch, steamed with lots of Old Bay seasoning, cracked and dipped in vinegar.  Unbeatable!  I was hooked. 

Over the past couple of years I’ve been fortunate to be invited for several more crabbing adventures with Tom and equally fortunate, on the occasions when I was unable to go, to be invited help eat the catch.

Last month it occurred to me that my son, with whom I’d never taken the time to go crabbing, was already off at college.  I chided myself as a most neglectful parent and, resolving to mend my ways, invited my daughters, ages 15 and 7, to accompany me to Mattamuskeet for a Saturday of crabbing. 

Cloudy day at Lake Mattamuskeet.
Cloudy day at Lake Mattamuskeet.

We arrived at one of the prime spots a little after ten in the morning, just as two carloads of mainlanders pulled up and began unloading nets and buckets.  Based on my previous trips, I was not expecting the girls’ patience to last long enough for us to catch our allowable dozen crabs each, but was hoping to catch their excitement of netting one or two each before going to lunch, calling it a day, and driving around to the Hatteras ferry.

As we laid out our baits, we and the other recent arrivers eyed each other a bit jealously and distrustfully but what tensions there might have been immediately thawed as soon as the first baits hit the water.  Right away there were crabs on every line and all of us began dipping them up, often two at a time!  If one of our party was busy with our net at the other end of the bridge, one of the other folks would cheerfully help us retrieve a crab on a nearer line.  Clearly, this was the kind of day I’d heard Tom talk about but had never personally seen.  To my surprise and admiration, both my girls immediately proved as capable of netting crabs as I was. 

As it turned out, we did indeed depart shortly after the first hour but it wasn't because the girls were bored.  We had secured our limit!

The crabs we caught were mostly “jimmies” (i.e., male blue crabs) although a small percentage of them were “sooks” or females.  You can tell the jimmies not only by the bright blue coloring of their claws but also by a rather masculine appearance of their ventral sides (turn one over – you’ll see what I mean).  The sooks have reddish claws as well as an abdomen suggestive, my mother used to say, of a purse.

If you’ve never tried Mattamuskeet crabbing, I can only say you’ve missed out on one of the many wonderful benefits of living in Hyde County.  All you need is an eight-dollar crab net and a few chicken necks (both available at bait & tackle shops), a few yards of twine, a 5-gallon bucket and a cooler with ice for bringing the crabs home and keeping them for up to a couple of days before cooking.  Remember to lay some burlap or at least some newspapers on top of the ice before putting the crabs in the cooler.  You don’t want them in direct contact with the ice.

Crab feast!
Crab feast!

There are a few regulations: 

1) crabs have to be at least five inches across the widest part of the carapace (point to point).

2) only take 12 crabs per person per day.

3) the crabs cannot be sold.

4) unattended traps are prohibited.

5) adults must have a valid freshwater fishing license.

6) children under 16 need not have a license if they are accompanied by a licensed adult.

Enjoy!

 

 

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