Our last two crabbing outings in August were epic, for entirely new reasons.
In mid-August, we decided to try the single-tide method of crabbing, where you lay pots as the tide begins to turn and come upriver -- then check them frequently over the next hours.
Tide change was two hours before sunset, plenty of time we thought. The motor out was lovely, as the sun got low and the herons lined the shore looked for a dinnertime meal. When we got to the mouth of the Nestucca there were no buoys on the river, no other boats. We set pots then beached the boat to eat the dinner we had brought. As we dined and the sun dipped low in the sky fog began rolling in and we wondered if it would impact visibility.
We packed up our picnic and motored out to check our pots. Two were empty, or nearly so and one had two keepers. Checking the three pots took some time and as we worked the fog slowed but the coming nightfall did not.
Once the crab were in our bucket we turned for home as darkness fell and we realized we had no navigational lights on board for safety. Luckily, no other boats were as foolish as us so a collision in the dark was unlikely. We arrived back at home safely. (We've since added lights to the boat's safety gear)
A week later, having learned several lessons, we headed out for an incoming tide crabbing session -- this time in the middle of the afternoon. We found spots for our pots in a crowded field of buoys then beached for lunch and a break. The wind was brisk and our first two forays to check pots were disappointing. Lots of females and juveniles.
By the time we completed our third check the wind was up to 20 mph and fatigue was setting in. We hauled in about 9 keepers, including one mammoth 10+ incher, and decided to head in. As we motored back to the boat ramp we realized what that kind of wind meant to a small boat. The waves were viciously slamming our bow, causing the boat to crest each wave and slam the surface of the water with a bone-jarring impact. The wind blew water over the side and in no time we were soaked. It was a very long 15-minute journey back to shore, leaving me with the impression 20 mph winds were definitely the match for the Amy M.
