The boat was about the size of a couch and made out of tin (foil). The 'captain' was a skinny guy about mid thirties, tops, and the first mate was a scraggly dog that got too much pleasure from running around on this S.S. Minnow. We climbed into the tin can and he raced across the sea, bouncing and slapping against the waves, throwing us about like socks in a drier. We stopped about 500 feet from the shore and Captain Ron reached into the water and pulled up a cage with a big, pissed off dungeness crab in it. When I say big I mean huge. This thing was the size of a tom cat!
But I digress. Back to the crab.
When we finally got inside the house we had to figure out how to deal with Bubbles. I asked his grandmother if she had a big pot. The biggest pot they had was 1/3 smaller than the crab.
Not good. Not good at all.
We boiled the water and sort of gathered around the paper bag and stared into it. It was making these gurgling, bubbling noises. I think it knew it was in major trouble. There were no tongs, oven mitts or spears we could use to get it out, so Rob, his mom and I got a ladle and two spatulas and lifted it out and over the pot. Someone said, “Which end is the head,” when a spatula slipped, boiling water splashed on Rob and the crab fell in the water ass first, trying desperately to scramble away from us as fast as it could. As Rob howled in pain, I grabbed a nearby pot lid, bashed the crab's head into the water and held underneath the bubbles until it stopped struggling. The best part was the fact I was wearing a “Be kind to animals” t-shirt the whole time.