Loading...
August 20, 1998 - When the cicadas call, it's crab time (2)SA • The Suffolk Times • August 20, 1998 When the cicadas call, it's crab time ON HOT SULTRY DAYS IN THE BEGIN - ning of August the cicadas start to sing and tell us summer's half over. Temperatures have to be in the 80s before we hear their coarse, FOCUS ever - increasing buzzing that ON often seems right NATURE above us in the trees. Then as by Paul the pulsing call Stoutenburgh hits its highest crescendo, it fades away and often it takes up by another "wooer" in a neighboring tree. These male callers have been silent in their burrows below for the past two to five years. There they've lived on the sap of roots, awaiting their exit day to mate. When fully developed, they emerge from the ground and climb the nearest tree. There, on the side of the tree, they'll shed their underground skins and become the thumb -sized adults we hear. Their call is to lure a female and mate. They live just a short while, perhaps only two weeks. During that time the female lays her eggs in small slits she makes in the tree's bark. Then, her mission complete, she dies. Her eggs will hatch and the nymphs will fall to the ground, where they burrow and find the necessary food that starts them on their long stay underground until that special day when they will emerge to sing, mate, lay their eggs and die. When the cicadas call, it's time to look for blue claw crabs in our local creeks, and this week we did just that. Most were small ones but they'll shed rapidly and grow so that by the end of the summer there should be some good crabbing. You really have to like to eat crabs to be a die -hard crabber, for crabbing is a messy business and most don't want to make the effort. Don't take your highly polished, teak - trimmed boat crabbing unless you have the means nearby to thoroughly wash and scrub it down, for in the pur- suit of the blue claw it will surely be splattered with drippings of mud, sea- weed and murky water. You'll need a Suffolk Times photo by Paul Stoutenburgh Male crabs have blue claws and a narrow, pointed pocket underneath. Females have "lipstick" red on their claws and a much wider "pocketbook" on the back. Remember, It's against the law to take female crabs. crab net that's fairly rugged, as you'll find yourself using it to paddle and push around, particularly when you see that big one off to one side and you're anxious to "get 'im." The best boat for crabbing is one with a bow you can stand in with feet apart to give you good balance. Then, if you have the luxury of having another person aboard to paddle or push, you've got the perfect com- bination for crabbing. The chase We, for some reason, never quite reach that perfection and wind up us- ing whatever's available, which is usu- ally a tippy, round - bottom boat that we push backwards to give the person with the net a wider place to stand, in the stern. It works out okay, but I must say it means the occupants need a lot more skill and balance than usual, especially when you forget everything and reach way out to get that big one. Now that you've gotten the right boat and net, the next thing to do is get a container large enough and deep enough so your snapping, ever -mov- LET'S LOOK BACK 75 years ago Aug. 17, 1923 Local news: Mrs. Julia Conklin has a Dodge sedan and will run it herself. Southold— Plumber Rafford has a radio. He's out to catch the news. Mrs. L.N. Sandford has closed her tea room. She found that with all her industry and ambition, one woman could- n't accomplish the impossible. People miss the privileges her retreat offered. Cutchogue —A large, fine and well- equipped meat mar- ket was opened this week by Ted Hand on the corner of New Suffolk Avenue, when Fred Grathwohl went out of the business. Ted took it up and with his usual push and perseverance has come to the top of the ladder. It is cer- tainly one of the finest markets we have ever seen. Mattituck —We read in all the papers about the Ku Klux Klan and about their burning crosses. We often wonder how many men of Mattituck belong. 50 years ago Aug. 20, 1948 Hometown home movies: Tonight at the Orient Congregational Church there will be a program of home movies in color entitled "My Home Town." This film was taken by Burton Rackeft of Orient and includes many scenes of interest to the residents of Southold Township. The pictures include views of ice boating, fishing, scallop- ing prizes don't climb out. There's nothing more disturbing than having an over - irritated blue claw crab scur- rying about the bottom of the boat while you're trying to look ahead for the next one. We use a wide- mouthed container that's shaped like a bushel basket. In a pinch a white "spackle bucket" will do, but if you use one, there'll probably be more than one crab loose in your boat. Crabbing can be fun, especially if you don't take too seriously the ones that get away. Often yowscoop too deep and bring your net up half full of creek mud and, of course, it drips all over the boat. Other times the crab is just too fast for you and you can't move the net through the water quickly enough with it half full of green cabbage. But then there's the joy of success when you finally catch your crab and eager- ly bring it in, hidden amongst the mud and cabbage. When you look closely, you might notice red tips on the claws. Dump the net over, and the final test is the wide back flap under the crab that tells you for sure it's a female and has to go back, for it's against the law to take female crabs. Next try, is for a big one. You make a calculated scoop but miss. There he goes. You try again, but now the water is stirred up and your prize dis- appears in the cloudy water below. He's lost for good! This just isn't my day, you feel, but you keep going. Your aim improves and after a few hours of "fun" (ha ha), you return to the dock with enough crabs for lunch. The boat looks like a disaster, to say nothing of yourself, but you're happy. You've caught your first crabs of the year. The reward Back home, Barbara puts on a pot of water to boil, while outside it's my job to wash off the crabs and put them in the big cook pot. I dump the crabs out on the lawn and for a few minutes there's a wild dash for for freedom. I keep an eye on each one and head for the one farthest away. I turn the hose on this one that seems to be headed for the creek and hold it down with my foot and ever so carefully I pick it up by its back paddlers, wash it once again and drop it in the pot. With each one I do the same thing until the pot is full. I think we have 10 crabs — enough for lunch. Now the pot of crabs is brought in, put on the stove and the water that Barbara's had boiling is poured over them. There's a last minute struggle as the crabs start to turn red. After a good 10- minute boil, we take them off the stove, drop them into the sink and run cold water over them to clean 'em up. My, they look good in their new red coat. It's about noontime and I'm hungry for crabs. Crab eating is a messy business. Just how to get into them and pick out the meat is a whole new adventure and one I think can only be learned by trial and error. Each person has his own technique of picking out the crab meat. The claws are no problem, what with your nutcrackers to open the shell, but to get into the body of the crab it takes some special doing and I'm not going to try to tell you how to do that here. It's too confusing. Crabbing is just one of the many wonderful things that you can do out here on the East End. Remember, don't take the small ones. Crabs must be five inches from point to point to be "takers," and that's not much of a crab to eat. Let them shed, for later on they'll be a better size, and remember, don't take females — it's against the law. P.S. I'm writing this outside on the porch in one of the beautiful Adirondack chairs that Al Goldsmith used to build. I look about and see a Carolina wren working under the table and benches picking up spiders and other insects. I remain perfectly still and she hops on my foot, then flies to my knee and looks around. She walks across my writing pal! then onto my hand. W,--r, a joy to see such a little bird so close, with that bright sparkle of life in its eye. ing, potato farming and pictures of the races held under the auspices of the Orient Yacht Club. A collection will be taken for the benefit of the Orient Eastern Long Island Hospital Auxiliary. It will be a pictorial story of life on the North Fork that you can't afford to miss. Greenport News: Among the notables who visited Greenport over the past weekend were Arthur Godfrey, well -known radio commentator, and movie stars Veronica Lake and Robert Montgomery. 25 years ago Aug. 16, 1973 Don't give water to the gypsies: Don't give a drink of water to the "gypsies" roaming through Greenport Village, no matter how thirsty they look. That is the advice of Mayor David Walker, who told the Village Board meeting Monday that a band of five persons dressed like gypsies had come to his father's house one night last week with a pregnant woman in the group pleading for a drink of water. His father had taken pity on the woman asking for the water and left the door to fetch a glass from the kitchen. Without a by- your - leave, the group trooped in behind him, following him to the kitchen while furtively looking the house over. The group entered two other houses in the village last Saturday on the same pretext, Mr. Walker said. One of the residents reported to Greenport Police Monday morning that after their visit $100 and a ring were missing.