Honolulu Star-Advertiser © Susan Scott
June 18, 2012
Sally lightfoot crabs.
La Cruz de Huanacaxtle, Mexico » While working on my sailboat and waiting for my husband to join me here, I went snorkeling and got an ear infection. Now I have to stay out of the water.
Being grounded isn’t as bad as it might be because after several scouting trips in my dinghy I never found an area with good water visibility. On each trip, though, I did notice on the rocks of the breakwater countless tarantulas sunning themselves, scurrying for cover when I drew closer.
They aren’t really tarantulas, but every time I see these lively marine animals I remember a visiting mainland friend asking how we Ala Wai Harbor boaters lived with so many tarantulas. She had noticed the marina’s rock crabs.
Hawaii hosts only one rock crab: the dark, thin-shelled species known by its Hawaiian name, aama. These are escape artists extraordinaire, and if you don’t believe it, try capturing one, even in a photo. I nearly hurt myself crawling through the boulders this week and still failed to get a good shot.
The rock crabs in this marina look like Hawaii’s species, but a bulkier red and yellow relative called the Sally lightfoot lives on islands near here. The one pictured above with several aama near it was shot with a telephoto lens during my last voyage here. The image isn’t perfect; the crabs were sidling sideways and two seconds later dropped from sight. Still, for rock crabs, I call the photo good.
John Steinbeck reported in his 1941 “Log of the Sea of Cortez” that these crabs drove his crew crazy in their efforts to catch them for specimens. “They seem to be able to run in any of four directions; but more than this, perhaps because of their rapid reaction time, they appear to read the mind of their hunter.”
Rock crabs eat just about anything, but sometimes the crabs themselves are meals. In the Ala Wai, I once saw a huge pufferfish leap from the water and grab an aama basking on a rock.
Aama are pupu for people, too. At a baby luau I’ve seen kids running around playing with aama legs sticking out of their mouths. The crabs are prepared by lifting the back shell and sprinkling sea salt inside. Diners suck out the salty interior.
I prefer watching aama and their Sally lightfoot cousins. The crabs stick to wave-washed rocks, wedging tiny spikes on their legs into cracks and crevices. These crabs can also walk underwater in surge areas, avoiding rollovers by altering the positions of their pancake-flat bodies.
You have to sit still to watch these little mind readers. If they see movement, they’re gone in a flash. This is why my friend thought the crabs were tarantulas. She never got a good look at them.
Until my ear heals, I’m happy stalking pseudo-tarantulas in this Mexican marina. Just so long as I don’t break a leg doing it.
©2012 Susan Scott