Magical Mud Crab Mayhem

One of the best things about fishing in the north west, apart from the amazing fish life and species on offer, would have to be the availability of the old mud crab.

These little beauties are an absolute delicacy for the table in these parts and I know a lot of people put in a fair bit of time to score a feed of ‘muddies’ when they head north for a fishing trip. Those of you who’ve had a couple of goes, know how easy it can be, and rewarding too if you get a decent feed of ‘em.

I guess like fishing though, there are different degrees of difficulty depending on your technique and style. You can opt for the old drop nets and hope for the best. This is pretty easy going and it also lends itself to that other popular pass time a lot of blokes do when they go out on their boats.  If you learn the right tide to do this it can produce damn good results. I’ve only ever caught one in a net but that might be because I only did it once.  Poor results 1st time at something can result in looking for an alternative pretty quickly, but I do know people who only do it this way and do great.

Another way is to go hooking them out of their holes at low tide. This obviously requires a bit more effort in that a bit of walking is involved (sometimes waist deep in mud) and it’s a not so easy to carry the esky around. Its best to wait till the tide is starting to work its way in I find, as the crabs start to clean their holes out then and are easier to spot.

Just grab your wire hook, jam it down a likely looking hole and tap around till you hear something similar to tapping a china tea-cup, then work your hook around behind him or onto a claw (sometimes he will grab your hook), ease him out and drop him in the bag. When you get more than one in the bag they can get a bit aggressive and start to fight each other thus damaging your future dinner. If you break a few leaves and branches off a mangrove tree and put these in the bag too, this will calm them down. I’ve been told that it has a sedative effect on them but I’m of the opinion that it just helps to keep them separated. Whatever it does to them it works and really helps preserve your catch.

I’ve got another mate that just sticks his hand down the hole and feels around till he locates one and manages to grab it and pull it out. It looks pretty impressive when old mate drags a big crab out with a decent set of claws that could snap a broomstick, and he still has all his fingers. I don’t know that I’m a big fan of having a crack at his method though, as we do get the odd stonefish up here as well and they don’t mind finding shelter in a ‘muddie’ hole at low tide. Also considering I’ve already lost a couple of toes, I don’t want to be fingerless as well. Strangely some of my friends would think this funny and I’m sure they already have a long list of hilarious comments prepared in case this ever happens.

My personal all time favourite here on Wilderness Island is to wait till the big spring tides, jump on the quad bike and go for a cruise along the track that runs along the side of the creek behind the camp. Its only a short ride with the trailer behind the quad (for passengers and esky). We idle along keeping an eye out for them and usually they will be sitting under a bit of Spinifex right at the top of the tide. Sometimes I’ve been able to grab them without even getting my feet wet. That might seem like a bit of fisherman’s tale but it is a fact and I reckon would have to be the lazy mans answer to mud crabbing. My girlfriend Kim and I went for a look on the bike once and counted 26 good sized crabs in 10 minutes all waiting to be plucked. We got one each and left the rest for next time, (probably hard to believe too)

Of all the times I’ve been crabbing, I reckon the first was the most memorable. I was still a station boy in those days, living in Broome for a while, working on a big charter boat and just generally kicking around. An old school mate, Kurt, got sick of me hounding him to take me crabbing as I hadn’t done it before, and finally one Saturday morning, off we went.

I was expecting some great trek into the back blocks of the Kimberley to a secret spot that only he knew about but instead we get a couple of kilometres out of town and turn off at a sign post labelled “Crab Creek”. I thought to myself ‘how the hell are we going to find any crabs in a place so obviously marked”. You would think being so close to town, on the main road leading into Broome, every man and his dog plus all the tourists would flog the hell out of it. This is what usually happens to any fishing spot especially if it’s well known about and easily accessible.

Anyway, Kurt assured me that everyone assumes the same thing and so don’t bother going there much. I believed him and the mission continued. We parked the ute up and continued on foot with the old hessian bag thrown over the shoulder to chuck the crabs in. Kurt had to carry the hooks he said as I was ‘unknowledgeable in mud crabbing’. ‘Very polite way to put it’, I thought. Maybe it had more to do with the fact that a bag full of crabs can weigh a fair bit and he didn’t want to carry it.

The day was progressing well as the mud deepened and we were starting to get a fair feed together. We had given up trying to walk, as the mud was so bloody deep, so we were making better way by lying on our stomachs and sliding along like mudskippers. I’m dragging the 10kg bag along behind me and Kurt is looking for more holes when I saw what looked like a big mudslide. I had my ideas what it could be so called out to Kurt. ‘Hey mate, is this a croc slide’? ‘Yeah pretty big one too by the width of that I’d say’. ‘Where do you reckon he is’? I said. ‘Oh, he’ll be around here somewhere, the big ones don’t tend to roam too far’. ‘Right ‘, I thought, ‘I’m outa here’. Considering the size of this lizard plus the fact that he was ‘probably around here somewhere’ and that crocs can move pretty quickly on land and a lot quicker in mud, and that I couldn’t, I reckoned it was probably a fair assumption to make.

Off I went with Kurt behind saying what a poof I was and all that, but on the other hand deciding that he wasn’t staying either. We slid our way back in half the time it took us to get there with me about 50m in front, which I reckoned was a good distance to put between myself and a ‘victim’.

Its something to laugh about now but not knowing much about crocs, I didn’t want to become one of these people who become a modern day, overnight expert on animals, by getting mauled by one.

I had my first feed of muddies that night and have been hooked on them ever since. Much better than crayfish I think and there seems to be no end to the ways you can cook them.

They can be very expensive to buy ($90 I’ve seen them for in restaurants), so if you haven’t had a chance to have a go at them, I highly recommend it.

They can reach pretty decent size so watch your fingers.

Cheers all, Jim Alston
Grew up on station right next to Exmouth Gulf and always dreamed of living the life of Robinson Crusoe. He’s just about achieved his goal by setting up a fishing camp on the edge of the gulf at Wilderness Island.