onionbagblog

And so the morning after a Bob Marley biopic was screened in Wivenhoe, what’s next on the cultural agenda in North East Essex?

“I’ve got CRABS”

…as one young Madam declared down at Quayside whilst keeping a tight line.

Yep - the annual Wivenhoe Crabbing Competition was the lunchtime sandwich filler in-between Open Studios weekend (LOVELY selection from the Wallets in the Bookshop Shed) and the Sailing Club Open Day just down from the Jetty.

Pinch me one, pinch me twice - you can’t escape the appeal of dangling your line waterside in the hope of catching CRABS.

Never mind the length, feel the thickness etc - prizes were awarded for the heaviest crab caught between Midday and 2pm on Sunday. The Crabbing Kids of Wivenhoe lined the Colne stretch from the Jetty down to West Quay.

An exceptionally high spring tide along Bethany Street and the old town hard provided a welcome reprieve for the funny little sideways fellas - and that was just the old boys stumbling out of a lunchtime session at the Black Buoy.

Boom boom.

All the best Rose and Crown booze berths were taken up by the little ankle biters of Wivenhoe. Which is no bad thing - and on the seventh day let it be said that crabs replaced alcohol for one day of the year.

Chin chin.

Bucket shakers did the bucket-shaking thing, raising funds for The Hub, the volunteer youth club run out of the Philip Road Centre. Crab commentary was provided from up above on The Nottage balcony with the brilliant Crab Facts sounding like something of an alternative Sunday sermon.

Fine work, Madam.

Time and tide waits for no man - or even crabs. The trick it seems was to capture the decapod crustaceans [aha!] just as the high water mark was being reached. We were even blessed with a sail by from the good gig Audacity.

Ahoy there!

Anyone on board got any crabs?

Impromptu chip picnics soon sprung up. For the purpose of clarity I’m keen to stress that king size saveloys seemed to be the seasoning of choice. No crabs made contact with ketchup down at the Quay.

Phew.

As for the winner?

In true Crap Match Report style, engagements elsewhere meant that I missed the crowning glory.

No worries.

The Olympic style crabbing podium looked impressive, as did the first appearance of the esteemed Wivenhoe Crabbing Trophy - lovingly salvaged from a Wiv Soc Riverbank Clean Up, my engagements elsewhere reliably informed me.

I’ve got CRABS.

You’ve got CRABS.

We’ve all got CRABS.

But for one afternoon only.

No hook line, either.