Sunday, May 13, 2012
3rd February 2012
Another of the stories I have from Camp Cherry Valley is of the for mentioned time I went crab hunting with some of the other boy scouts. These crabs would only have made eating for the most hungry of folks as they were small enough for had dozen to fit in a foam cup.
We had asked the scoutmaster for ice to drop down the crab holes and flush the things out but gotten none and so worked with our hands. This was a thing I was no good at as I had little knowing of crabs. I learned on my first few tries that the crabs could give up their legs to be free.
I recall that the largest crab a boy had stabbed with a stick to catch, and the damage had made the animal still. It was not dead as I could still see its mouth moving, but I imagine death came for the poor thing shortly as every time we put it back in the water other crabs came to try and take it away.
Among the other crabs there were the very small and the not so small even if they all were too small for the pot. These had to be kept apart from one another as they would fight. There was one of these who when placed in the cup of small crabs would fight with those smaller than it and cause a commotion. This one was taken out and placed in the cup with his larger brothers where the bully got his just earnings. Nature can be a real my sister but sometimes she does play fair.
Stay safe, little sister
Richard Leland Neal