Suffering crawling crabs!

A pincer movement in Fiji

By Lema Low

Crabs (Scylla serrata) the round, flat variety with a frilly edge and a pair of fearsome claws like giant pincers are not plentiful in Suva. In fact, they are a rare delicacy; so when someone knows someone who is going to Suva, from the country areas, one usually hears a beseeching inquiry, “Please would you mind taking these crabs to Mr Soandso in Suva?”

A palm-leaf basket was thrust into my hands. Baleful eyes gazed at me from bet ween the slats. There was a suggestive rustle in the basket.

“Are they —?” I began, timorously.

“Yes, they’re alive,” was my friend’s cheerful reply. “Two of them, and firmly tied. They won’t be a nuisance, will they?”

“Not at all not at all,” I reassured her, hiding my inward misgivings.

I walked rather awkwardly to the Air Pacific plane standing on the runway, ready to leave. With my hand-luggage in one hand and the basket of crabs held at arm’s length in the other, I tried to make nonchalant farewell gestures to my friends.

“Name?” asked the man at the gangway, cocking an eye at the gently undulating basket in my left hand.

“Crabs,” I said, vaguely. A warm, ap preciative, sympathetic smile brightened his face. He almost drooled. He waved me into the plane. Gangway for crabs, food for the gods!

Settling the basket of crabs and my hand-luggage under the window, I stared at my waving friends and hoped my face did not look as pale as it felt. The plane palpitated then took to the air in a graceful swoop.

The Koro Sea stretched beneath us like smooth, blue satin. All was calm, warm and soporific. Around me, passengers were already dozing. I hoped the crabs were dozing too, Quite frankly, I hoped they were unconscious.

Near Makogai Island, I too felt inclined to snooze. My eyelids drooped. My body relaxed.

Then an odd thing happened.

Something which felt like a pencil, moved across the calf of my leg. . .once. . .twice.

Carefully, I looked down at my leg. At what I saw, I pressed my hand against my mouth and tried not to scream.

There was this great pincer pawing the air, and occasionally coming in contact with my leg! It was making tentative clut ches, trying to get a mouthful of my leg!

My fingertips tingled. I’ll swear the hair on my head rose straight up and fell down again. I let out a strangled yelp I couldn’t help it, but the other passengers were in such a somnolent doze they didn’t notice my situation.

I had a mental picture of the two large crabs roaming loose, creating havoc inside the plane, perhaps clawing their way into the pilot’s cabin, hijacking the plane and demanding to be flown to Cuba or somewhere.

Furtively, I evaded the waving claw and examined the basket. One claw loose meant three claws and two bodies in the basket. All was not yet lost. I breathed more freely and looked at my watch. Fif teen minutes to a Nausori touch-down!

As the plane touched down, the claw was still trying to chew my leg. I tottered to the airport buiding. Gawking people at the barrier pointed amusedly to the crab’s claw waving to them from the basket.

“A b-b-b-bus ticket to town,” I stuttered to the clerk, darting worried glances at the agitated basket. I was getting more agitated myself. It was obvious that the other crabs realised that one fellow had a claw loose and prospects of freedom so

why couldn t they?

I hurried to the bus with my cargo, slumped into a seat and chewed my fingernails. Never had I known an airways bus to travel so slowly. It literally crawled caught in peak hour traffic while in their basket the crabs went ruitle, rustle rust j e ’ ’

At long last, the bus reached the Suva terminal where I had another wait for a

taxi. People standing nearby noticed the basket and the claw, and said enviously.

“Ooh! Crabs!” indicating my good fortune in possessing them.

I just couldn’t wait to get to the house, fling the wriggling basket into the kitchen and telephone my husband.

“I’m just home,” I wheezed, clutching the receiver, “and I’ve brought Mr Soandso’s crabs. Please ask him to collect them before they escape and ransack the town!”

“He’s in Lautoka,” was the reply, “but will collect them tomorrow.” Well that night, both crabs got loose and really went on the ran-tan. We could hear them crashing about in the kitchen, in the lounge and even under the bed! Greatly

daring, Tom crept out, switched on the light, put on his largest boots, raked the crabs into the bathroom locked the door and returned to bed.

“I’ve fixed them until morning,” he said, with satisafaction, “I put them in the shower-base!”

Next morning, would you believe it, the crabs were nowhere in sight! An intensive hunt revealed them snuggled up, blissfully asleep behind the water-heater. It was no eaS y task to w inkle them out, they were so attached to their cosy nest, We pushed them into a sack, tied the neck and sent them off to Mr. Soandso, with our compliments, ~. . . th He lele f h honed , u * the «xt day: ‘‘Say those are the most determined crabs we ve ever met! We tied them up firmly (so we thought) but they escaped again and have been scuttling round the house all night!”