Chapter 9 Crabbing
Chill fingers of mist floated softly into the shelter, there to settle on Noah's sleeping face. Vaguely he sensed its silvery presence, ghostly in the first half-light of dawn. In many ways though, it comforted him, like a soft, pale grey blanket.
In the misty stillness, the river, mountains, trees and ferns had disappeared from view.
There was no breeze. Nothing rustled. Even the river ran silent, afraid to disturb the hush of dawn. Noah yawned then lifted himself slowly from his bed of ferns.
He decided to make use of the low tide to go crab collecting. Wearing his sneakers and carrying the food sack over his shoulder, Noah ran across the smooth damp sand, swept clean by the night's high tide. He paused as he stepped onto the jagged reef.
Carefully, he picked his way around rock pools. He waded through shallow channels. Beyond the rocky reef, Noah saw the white curl of breakers. He heard the surf roar and imagined the thick forests of kelp sucking in and out with the waves.
Noah remembered Gran's words, "Kelp fronds, roasted in the hot coals of a campfire, are said to be quite edible and nutritious." Noah decided to leave kelp collecting for another day.
Squatting down on the reef, Noah gazed into the crystal clear water of a rock pool. Slim silvery fish darted in amongst beds of seagrass and feathery seaweeds. A tiny blue jellyfish drifted by. Noah became lost in the intricate purple and blue patterns of a starfish.
As Noah continued on his way, his sneakers squelched as he waded through a shallow pool then over a carpet of slippery sea grapes and domed limpet shells. With his hunger well and truly satisfied by blackberries, Noah was not in the least bit tempted to nibble on sea grapes or chew the rubbery flesh of limpets.
Overhead a sea-eagle soared. On the reef, a grey heron squabbled with a seagull over a fish.
But Noah was supposed to be looking for loose stones -- not birds -- for stones provided hiding places for crabs. He lifted each stone quickly, and then pounced on the crab before it scuttled sideways to hide in a crevice or beneath another stone.
Noah found plenty of crabs -- of all sizes and types -- but he kept only the large ones.
As the morning drifted by, Noah became less careful. He clambered over a rock, tripped, and with a thud fell face down on the reef. His grandmother’s words echoed through his mind, "We must take care not to hurt ourselves. There are no doctors or hospitals here at Wilderness Cove."
As he picked himself up off the rocks he thought, I’m lucky I haven't broken any bones, and my cuts aren't too deep. But his eyes smarted and his legs trembled with the shock of the fall.
The last crab that Noah found was a beauty. Holding it firmly, he peered eyeball to eyeball. It had one huge and very powerful pincer claw, eyes on the ends of long stalks, and was dark purple in colour with pink seaweed growing on its shell.
If this crab’s pincer latched onto my thumb, thought Noah, I think I'd pass out in pain.
Very carefully, Noah dropped the crab into his sack and began to make his way back across the reef. The tide was beginning to turn. On his way, he stopped at a large kidney-shaped pool. He bent down and pulled some mussels off a rock.
Pausing beside several clumps of bright green sea lettuce, he remembered the taste of their leaves. It was like eating soggy plastic bags. Nevertheless he broke off a clump and added it to his sack of food. He smiled. Gran would be pleased that he’d remembered the all-important greens. And that he had mussels, as well as crabs.
Carrying the sack over his shoulder, Noah walked towards their camp in the forest. Through the hessian material he felt the squirming legs and pincers of twenty or so crabs. As he walked, Noah imagined cooking the crabs in the hot embers of the campfire. Or maybe, he thought, they'd taste better baked between heated stones?
Noah saw himself cracking open a pincer and sucking out the tender tasty meat. Imagined chewing it and swallowing. Savouring the delicate flavour.
Deep down though, Noah wished he could let the crabs go free. But he realised that his survival depended on collecting food from the forest and the sea. I’m a hunter gatherer, he thought bravely, as he made his way back to their camp.
On his arrival at the campsite, his grandmother was nowhere to be seen. With a slight feeling of unease, Noah looked around and called out her name.
There was no answer.
With a rising sense of fear, Noah thought, What if Gran’s had a heart attack and is in pain and needs help? There's only me, thought Noah, and I wouldn't have a clue what to do!
His forehead broke out in a sweat -- -- --. And, even worse, what if Gran had died, like grandfather? Noah imagined himself digging a grave. Then he thought of living all alone: as a hermit hunter gatherer. For the rest of his life.
Noah's gloomy thoughts were interrupted by Star. The goat bleated plaintively then, balancing on her hind legs, reached up to nibble the sack. She was curious about the creatures Noah had collected.
Prince nudged Noah's hands. Noah looked into the dog’s dark intelligent eyes and asked, "Where's Gran?"
The golden retriever wagged his tail then, with his nose close to the ground, led Noah through the forest. With Coo on his shoulder, Star trotting along beside him and Prince leading the way, Noah started to feel better. Suddenly, like a wave crashing on the sand, his worry began to collapse.
Noah ran his tongue over dry lips and turned his back on his fear. He remembered Gran’s wise words: "Live one day at a time. Moment by moment. The best that you can. That way you won't ever get too scared or too worried".
And there, around a bend in the river was his grandmother, safe and sound. She smiled as she called out, "I've dug up some tubers for our dinner. I'll steam them between layers of seaweed, in the coals of the fire. Did you catch any crabs?"
"I caught plenty," Noah replied, with a huge smile. At that precise moment though, he decided not to mention his fear.
It was a secret he'd keep to himself. Next time, he thought, I'll adopt a slow and steady approach. I'll remain alert but calm.
Tsunami Page 9