onionbagblog

That time of the year again - the crabs of Wivenhoe scratch their varying sized skulls, fall sucker to the lure of some cheap bait and then get suckered out of the muddy banks of the Colne and straight into a bucket to be weighed.

Yep - it’s only the annual Wiv Soc Crabbing Competition.

Oh Lordy.

You have to feel for the hapless crustaceans. You have 364 days of the year of relative estuary peace and quiet, and then come mid-July and the masses arrive along with their crab lines and nets. At least the annual weighing provides an alternative form of Weight Watchers.

Um - how long do crabs live for, exactly?

But for all the sorrow for our sideways challenged friends, you have to feel slightly more sorry for the little folk that braved the Biblical Wivenhoe weather on Sunday afternoon.

Awww.

I stayed indoors during Downpour No.1 and No.2. By the time Downpour No.3 came washing along the Wivenhoe flots and jetsum, I though whoops - I really should be Quayside trying to at least capture a few photographs.

I missed out on the main action. Instead I found a solitary crab being weighed (I’d cut down on the pork pies mate - get some exercise) before being unceremoniously tossed back into the banks of the Colne by the good Councillor Kraft.

I gather that the 2011 Crabbing Competition was something of an endurance effort for all the little folk involved.

Well Done You.

A winner emerged, along with a prize fund of £25 - no doubt to be spent on a warm blanket and hot chocolate for the great thawing out of the triumphant little crabber.

Meanwhile, up the High Street and an optimistic man of the cloth also had crabs on his mind.

Cripes.

Fine work, Wiv Soc, in persevering with the 2011 Crabbing Competition, under what were some genuinely testing circumstances. Fine work, little folk in also taking up the challenge.

Crabs in yer pants, etc.