Crabbing at Walberswick

I am rather behind with the blog, I am afraid. So, for argument's sake, the other day Allie came on a return visit and we all went to Walberswick to try crabbing for the first time. Walberswick is a beautiful, once important and thrivingly rich, village on the Suffolk coast, just the other side of the river Blyth from Southwold. Apparently, Charles Rennie Mackintosh, the Scottish architect, artist and (chair) designer lived there in the early 1900s. Anyway, we didn't spend time wandering around this time; we headed straight for the action.

Armed with the bait of our choice - two thick slices of Coop gammon for 1.79 - we bought a net and our crabbing line from a shack there and Misha did the honours.

Actually, he turned out to be quite adept at, not only hooking on the bait neatly (to a clip, not a hook), but also the whole fishing/waiting/patience thing.

Unlike moi, as you can see from my expression. For the record, I caught nothing. However, Walberswick hosts the annual British, or perhaps even World, crabbing championship, so I have something to work towards....

Allie, on the other hand, proved a real expert at crabbing. Alastair was happy to wave the net in the water and liked it when he saw the crabs up close, pincers and all.

Like this one. A great catch by Allie, who also quickly moved up to claim the spot where some neighbouring crabbers had been (and just thrown their crabs back!)

And here's Gregor doing just that. I suppose woe betide anyone who doesn't adhere to these basic practices. Recently, there was uproar in the angling community (the most popular sport in Britain?!) after reports that East Europeans were fishing in lakes and, horror of horrors, taking carp home and eating it!