sunday crabbing


It's interesting to realize that you can go your entire life living somewhere without knowing one of its greatest treasures. I grew up in Pacifica but had no idea what type of fish the fishermen caught on the pier-- let alone that you could go crabbing.

We went one Sunday afternoon. We had, quite possibly, the most inadequate equipment you could use for crabbing but the kind strangers around us gave us tips and even helped get everything set up (you know, like putting the line on the reel). There was one woman who was out there for the first time with her big brother and she was catching fish left and right.

There were two things that I loved the most: first, the community. Even though we had no idea what we were doing and even though we were technically "competition," there were so many people who wanted to help and show us the best way to do everything. They told us that the rod could be better and that the fishing line was too thick ("What were you planning to catch, a whale?"). This and many other gestures of kindness, just because.

Second, the time of day. I've been resentful of the early sunset for the past couple of months but I've never appreciated it more than that Sunday. We came out when it was still bright and even though we were only there for a few hours, we watched golden hour turn into the most vivid sunset on the Pacific.

These pictures aren't enough. It doesn't even matter that we didn't catch a single crab. It was perfect.

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