Boating often starts out like this. Ed and I are traveling on our trawler, Finito, and beauty is all around us, but for some reason, I feel crabby.
I think it has something to do with adapting to my role as “first-mate.” It is difficult for me to take orders; it always has been. First-mate is a big job but it is not Captain. I am not in charge.
I know that It is good to be humbled and I have been through this before, especially in 2024-25 when Ed and I took one year to complete the 6000 miles of America’s Great Loop. Thank goodness we had Luna and Okee with us. This year we have Diesel and Okee.
— Luna RIP🐾🌈
This crabbiness? I will snap out of it in a day or two, but in the meanwhile, I keep seeing crabs. I feel like Mother Nature is empathizing with me!
For instance, this morning, in New Smyrna, blue crabs were swim-dancing as they floated by- wading birds perched on boat transoms trying to catch one for breakfast.
At our first stop along the Intracoastal, Vero Beach, there were magnificent oak trees, a book exchange, pin fish breeding by the docks, and a 5-acre dog park. When I was walking Diesel, I noticed a beautiful orange and blue land crab trying to make a life among floritam grass and expansive pavement. It ran into its hole as we approached. It made me recall as a girl growing up in Stuart when thousands of land crabs would make their way from the mangrove swamps and rivers’ edges to the ocean. What a sight to see!
Over the years in Martin County, AIA along Hutchinson Island was developed, mosquito ditches expanded, roads widened, and condominiums replaced dunes, and mangrove swamps were filled in for more condos or million- dollar homes. Eventually, it became all but impossible for the land crabs to make their annual migration to the sea . This is a non negotiable for the females as they must deposit their eggs in the ocean.
While following their urge to procreate they had to cross the highways and roads. They were crushed by cars – by the hundreds and by the thousands. Over time, their habitat was almost entirely gone and few crabs survived. But no person seemed to care. “They’re just crabs….and who cares about the food chain! ”
The Florida Wildlife Commission limits harvest but does not close roads as is the case in Australia’s Christmas Island that has made a tourist event of their amazing land crab migration.
I think this attitude of man over nature is the basic problem with our society, instead of trying to live with especially non-charasmatic native species, or at least protecting them in a humane way, we often opt for just plowing them over…
Anyway, I better stop, I know I’m sounding “crabby.”
After Vero, Ed and I also stopped in Cocoa Village, another favorite, because of their awesome historic downtown. But like the land crabs one has to navigate two major highways to get to the downtown, praying the whole time that someone missing the light after coming down the bridge doesn’t hit you at 50 mile an hour. Ed, being impatient, ignores the WALK signs and jaywalks — with Diesel training behind. Me? I can’t do it. I wait. I am a cautious like a crab…
I actually am a crab if you believe in astrology. This ancient star-language of the Babylonians, the Greeks, then the Romans says that because my birthday falls on June 29th , my zodiac sign is Cancer- the crab🦀
“Represented by the moon, cancer is a cardinal water sign know for deep emotional sensitivity, strong intuitive abilities, and a fierce dedication to home and family. Weaknesses include being moody, overly sensitive, defensive, and prone to clinging or isolation. Just like a crab with a hard outer shell and a soft interior, Cancers project a tough or cautious exterior to protect their sensitive soul.”
Goodness! That sounds about right!
At Cocoa Village Marina we were welcomed by bottlenose dolphins and witnessed the Space-X liftoff across the Indian River Lagoon at Cape Canaveral. It was amazing. Inspirational really. But I did wonder how many crabs and other animals got burned up or sprayed with chemicals at the liftoff site located on the Bannana River- part of the Indian River Lagoon – and natural lands region of Canaveral National Seashore and the Merritt island National Wildlife Refuge. 🦀 Oh, I’m so crabby!
Next we stopped at New Smyrna Marina only a few files away from the Turnbull Settlement of 1768 where over 1200 people from Menorca, Greece and Italy worked as indentured servants on an enormous indigo plantation until they rebelled for being treated like slaves half dying and half walking to St. Augustine to plea to the British Governor for refuge which was granted. I guess they were feeling crabby too! 🙂
As I look forward, I see the Halifax River and St. Augustine lies ahead. Maybe I can convince my Captian to take a break and eat Greek food? Then I’ll be as happy as a clam!
