In many ways it's great to be back home, back into a certain rhythm -- a rhythm in the seasons and a rhythm in the photography. We had some errands to run up in Newport this afternoon and, since it wasn't rainy and skies were overcast, it was a perfect time to wander around the fishing boats and all their various and sundry paraphernalia.
It's Thanksgiving, which means we're close to crabbing season. Buoys are all painted and prepped, ready to be loaded aboard their boats. Don't you just love the colors?
The white-painted F/V Miss Yvonne heads over to have all of her crab pots loaded on board, while the F/V My Lee, beautiful in blue against a background blue mural, patiently waits for Friday, when the boats are allowed out to begin soaking their pots. When do they pull them up? They begin December 1.
What this means is that when we look out our kitchen window in the evening, we'll see all sorts of bright lights out on the horizon, sometimes as many as 15-20 of them, as the crabbers get hard at work.
To celebrate, Chris and I shared a cracked Dungeness crab for dinner last night. Ahhhh! Heavenly.
The crabbers are receiving $3.10/pound for their catch this year, which is apparently a high price for them. The crab we bought yesterday (pre-season) at Fred Meyer was $5.99/pound. Any time we can get fresh crab for less than $6/pound around here, we consider ourselves lucky. You folks, who don't live in the area, probably pay less than we do, we who live in the "Dungeness Crab Capitol of the World." Most of the crabs harvested here are shipped out immediately. Heavy sigh . . .
It's crab season. It's almost Thanksgiving. I'm thankful you're here reading this, thankful I'm here writing this, and feeling quite crabby -- in a good way!
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