As told by: Saenger Ellis

You can't go to places like Whidbey, that are rampant with sea life and not try to catch it. We caught the crabs so easily last time that we knew they were in there- so we had to look into a crab pot. What is a crab pot you ask? It's a net or box with a gate that allows the crab to go in but not come out.

So we went to Big 5, a sporting goods store on the way to the ferry to Whidbey. Although we were looking for the pot we saw on the Washington Parks and Rec website, made of net, Big 5 only had ONE shiny blue metal box, ONE junky plastic rope, (not like the high end steel woven rope that WA parks and wildlife suggested) and ONE GIANT booey that could be seen from space- so we said fuck yeah and bought them all.

While the cashier looked at us like we were crazy for the overpriced march ($130 was nothing for all the lavish crab we would indulge)... while aty sat there holding a pink fishing pole screaming because he wanted it. Don't they know it's about the inner child, not the small child?

I threw it in the back of the car it barely fit into, not caring once that I had nothing to put in it, I was sure I'd find delicious crab food. The first thing I did upon arriving at the airbnb was throw my bag down the stairs, shove my child out of the way and run outside to assemble my blue shiny toy.

Once it was put together my inner child came out again, knowing the fridge must be burglarized for my boyish wonder. I didn't care about anyone else's need for breakfast as long as I could tie down organic bacon and hot dogs to the cage- every crab's dream. Should I be concerned they won't eat bacon or hot dogs? NO. Because without something out there you're sure as fuck not gonna catch anything!

Rookie mistake.

So I ran down the stairs with oily bacon smeared hands, smiling with glee, to where I found the sea kayaks. Someone must have obviously had the same idea before, as the owners had locked the kayaks to the trees to prevent visitors from getting all the yummy crabs-greedy bastards.

But what those stupid assholes didn't know, is that I'm tug-boat savvy. I ran down the shore, frantic, knowing every wasted moment is one juicy crab out of my grasp. So as any clever hunter, I found a big stick and turned it into whatever i wanted it to be at the time- a paddle, a possible seal club,( if i had to fend for my life). I tugged the boat and crab box into the sea (actually my mom pushed me out.)

I paddled to what felt like a safe distance from shore, entering into what appeared to be questionable seal territory. Realizing the thrift store was close and I could go the following day for a paddle, I decided to set the crab trap close and start my process.

My mind was reeling, Would they like bacon? Would they be there? Would they like hot dogs? Would they be big? While also thinking, don't get your foot stuck in the rope when you throw the pot overboard. Clumsiness is the real wilderness killer.

Then I paddled back with glee (because glee is all I have) to the shore and and went upstairs to have a drink and celebrate how great my success would be the next day. Surely. Millions of crabs.

I woke up and walked outside, super excited to see my giant bouay. I was devastated to see that I had not accounted for the tide, that had taken all the water away from my pot and washed it ashore. I went down to look at my pot, all the baby crabs had eaten my meats away, since all sea creatures love an organic breakfast meat.

$12 more down, and not even an $8 crab to show for it. But that didn't hold me back. So I ran upstairs and blew past my son, only to hear my mother say:

"I read they like chicken necks, not chicken, but chicken necks."

I thought, "where the fuck am I going to find chicken necks and am I actually going to ask around for chicken necks?" The next sound was the rustle of keys and the "beep beep" of unlocking our silver Chrysler 300 rental whip. We had to fly into town. I ran into The Goose (a small supermarket) straight to the meat counter.

"Excuse me sir?! Where can I find chicken necks?"

The young lad turned around slowly and asked in a lackadaisical manner,

"Have you checked the crab bait section?"

I thought to myself "I love The Goose! How genius! A crab bait section. I'm beginning to think they're like pests for these people."

And straight to the crab bait section.

I peered in with excitement to find only chicken thighs. Mom said they only like chicken necks, but the sign says "crab bait". Fuck it we're getting them. Mom doesn't know shit anyways. I reach in, grab my bait and thought "Oh zip ties, they work for everything."

"Beep beep"- back to the sea to release my pot. Damn. How did we get stuck behind a man who just loaded his backhoe full of groceries in order to drive himself home? I fucking love this island.

Although I was ecstatic to get back and put my pot out, the family saw the thrift store. At least if I had to go thrifting, maybe I could find myself a paddle. There they were! Two perfectly good plastic paddles for $5 dollars.

Now, teaching lesson:

No ones near, with the exception of the $3 shovel with a green sticker. Pull off green sticker, replace with $5 red sticker. Now I have two perfectly good plastic $3 paddles..lesson for son...don't be a damn fool, these are plastic.

Cram everyone back into the car, wait for Jess to buy all of her things, thrift stores are the coolest and prices are negotiable.

I unleash into the driveway, leave Jess to get the kid, run down the stairs, zipped my rock solid, frozen chicken legs to my pot. Paddle fast, you must be quick, you can't beat a seal off with a plastic paddle, you must use the element of surprise.

Chuck crab pot out, paddle back in, tide you won't get me this time!

I paddle back out the next day, super excited, not quite as excited as the last day, but super excited. Do the jumble again, drag the tugboat over the flood wall, drag it out (wheres mom to do it?), Who's my seal spotter? Why don't people know you can't test a dog with flippers?1

Is someone watching Aty?

I paddle to my giant booey that can be seen from space, and I pull up my pot, the whole family has surfaced on the shore to see my brilliant catch.

A brilliant catch of stupid starfish.

Stupid non-edible starfish. Not even the dead kind you can keep as a trinket. Starfish sloths of the sea. Worthless. And to add to the injury the family thinks they're fantastic. And whats that? One of them had the audacity to catch and eat a small dungeons crab and drag it into my pot to gloat! I want to tear off your tiny arms, but that just makes me realize you have 5 tiny arms and you're all I can catch.

But, I've brought my two remaining chicken legs with me, this time thawed out. I'm sure i can make it work.

Tired, sunburned, knowing what it entails to get the boat out and back and how many starfish peruse the sea floor, while I'm still excited i can't say I'm quite as excited as i once was. so the crabs can just wait for me. I only have two more days, so I'm just leaving the pot out there. I'm sure it will be overflowing this time.

So we played and picked wild blackberries...yada yada. With 45 minutes left before my departure I went down to check our pot for the final time. And do I even need to tell you?

It was full with a jellyfish and 2 toxic, non-edible crabs.

Did i tell you, you can't eat them? yea.

Apparently,there was a toxic algae bloom . Paralytic shellfish poisoning, in Penn Cove. State officials had closed the bay to crabbing,(just the bay I was crabbing) as it is a potentially fatal biotoxin!

Thank god vacations with toddlers have lots of naps and down time for googling.

I live to tell another tale...

Crabby in Whidbey- A Tale of Crabbing