One of my favorite things to do in Deltaville
was going out with Pepop to get the crabpots.
The above photo shows (from l to r)
Sheba, Pepop's dog, me, my dad and Pepop.
Every chance I got, I'd go out to pull pots.
I think Pepop enjoyed the
free child labor company every summer.
Even to this day, I remember his buoy number:
I was trained to look for it so I could grab the right lines.
The perk of having someone in the family with crabpots
was having steamed crabs.
(yes, that's me in my underwear watching the crabs go in the pot)
|My dad and I steaming crabs|
It was always fun watching the crabs being put in the pot.
Barefoot, my cousin and I secretly liked when a crab escaped and ran around waving its claws
sending us screaming and scrambling up onto the stool
out of the way.
Eventually I got old enough to
torture and play with the crabs before they got cooked help.
This vacation, I'm hoping to catch enough crabs
in our measly 2 pots and
with chicken necks on string to steam some ourselves like the good ole days.