The following Monday, having gotten over my sickness / eight-day-work-week, I did something I haven't partaken in since I was a teenager. Some friends of mine and I drove over to the Gulf Coast to do a little blue crab fishing on the "road to nowhere". Now, if you're thinking in terms of boats and traps, think again. The red-neck way is with...and I'm not making this up...chicken on a string. Essentially you tie a twenty-or-so-foot piece of twine onto a raw, store-bought chicken leg or breast, toss it in the water, and wait for the crabs to think they're gettin' an easy meal. Slowly pull the line back towards the shore where their impending doom awaits in the form of a long handled dip net. Add beer...and good time is had by all. Blue Crabs aren't terribly large, it takes quite few dozen of them to make a decent boil, and it's a whole lot of work for a tiny amount of meat....hardly the snow crabs you'd get at the likes of Red Lobster.
As the story goes, the (corrupt) county powers-that-be wanted to capitalize on then import of a certain less-than-legal powdery, white substance that was popular throughout the 1980s...as well as the ever-present ganja. Back then (and up to the present) a common method of delivery was to fly in low over the Gulf waters, toss out a few bails of "product", send out a hired boat to pick it up, and off it went. Apparently the Colombian cartels weren't too keen on loosing the stuff due to the inability of the boats to find it all. Back then it was not uncommon for beach combing tourists and locals to happen upon a bail or two that had floated ashore...myself included. It was such a common occurrence that local fishermen who
The solution: the cartels pay off a few county bigwigs, bigwigs solicit federal funds to build a "nature trail" (it literally is a "bird watching trail" now), land their product-laden plane ashore, and cut out the middleman.
Everybody was a winner...until the feds started handing out subpoenas.