He’s huge, he’s handsome, he’d probably taste great slathered in a few litres of garlic butter. Please put your pincers together for the loveable, legendary, and oh-so-large Larry the Lobster!
Jut watch out – he can be a bit crabby!
At 17 metres tall, 15.2 metres long and 13.7 metres wide, and weighing in at four tonnes, Larry casts an imposing shadow over Kingston SE. Antennae up and maxillipeds agape, he welcomes visitors to the remote beachside town three hours south of Adelaide.
World-weary travellers and little nippers alike will gasp in delight at Larry’s intricate exoskeleton and friendly, knowing eyes, which have been rerceated in stunning detail. He looks wonderful from a distance, but it is only by getting up claws and personal with The Big Lobster, sprawling out between his prodigious pereiopods that the full extent of his grandeur can be fully understood.
Larry could very well be the Holy Grail of Big Things – culturally relevant, world famous, fantastically-realised, and astonishingly large. Needless to say, he’s a crust-see attraction!
Could there be a better way to spend a crisp May afternoon than by taking a shellfie with a gigantic lobster, then popping into the on-site cafe for a fishburger and a strawberry thickshake?
The service is snappy but, remarkably, they don’t serve lobster. But that’s probably for the best – it might upset Larry!
As Happy As Larry
Local lobster fisherman Ian Backler is the man to thank for coming up with the idea for Larry. After returning home from a holiday in the United States – where he undoubtedly gawked at many oversized roadside attractions – he was inspired to create one of his own.
Teaming up with charismatic local chaps Rob Moyse and Ian Hannaford, the trio devised a plan that was as innovative as it was bonkers; build an enormous sea creature that would appear, to the untrained eye, to be attacking the town’s new tourist information centre. The just sit back and wait for the tourists to start pouring in.
And there was only one man who could pull it off.
Enter Paul Kelly. No, not the folk-pop icon, the visionary who built Scotty the Big Scotsman. Displaying rare genius, Paul bought a spiny lobster from a local fish and chip shop and had it stuffed to serve as his muse.
Paul then rented out a warehouse in Adelaide and, over the next six months, built The Big Lobster. He started with a monstrous steel frame, then carved the details from foam, slathered the whole thing in fiberglass, and stood back to bisque in the lobster’s glory.
On December 15, 1979 hundreds – perhaps thousands – of perky pescatarians lobbed up to see South Australian Premier Dave Tonkin reveal The Big Lobster to the world. In my mind, I picture Dave, atop a cherrypicker, lifting up the lid of one of those silver serving trays to reveal the enormous creature. But, in my heart of hearts, I know this to not be the case.
Something like that would be cray-zy, even for a noted prankster like Dave Tonkin.
But wait… there’s more-nay!
As his shell-ebrity has grown, other crustaceans have attempted to steal Larry’s thunder. The town of Shediac, Canada is home to an imposter known as The World’s Largest Lobster. They should rename him The World’s Largest Con-Job as, at a paltry 11 metres long and two metres tall, the creature’s not even big enough to be served in a seafood basket at the local bowlo.
Best to stick with Lucky Larry and some of Australia’s other supersized sea creatures, such as The Big Prawn, The Big Prawn, The Big Prawn or Gabby the Yabby.
In 2015, a crayfish sculpture in Qianjiang, China pinched the Guinness Book of Records title for The World’s Largest Crustacean Sculpture. This was claws for concern as, much like the PRC’s faćade of democracy, it’s a big, fat lie. Despite claims that it’s 15 metres tall, photos show that this Oriental charlatan is only slightly larger than your average Chinaman.
I’ll bring it up with Xi next time we meet up to play pickleball.
Dirty Gordon, Crazy Larry
Gordon was unusually quiet, ruminating over a bucket of calamari rings as we sat in The Big Lobster’s immense shadow. I’d expected the little alien to come out with one of his usual pithy comments, or try to climb up Larry so he could ride him. There was nothing, however, but the contemplative chewing of perfectly-cooked seafood.
“You know, Bigs,” the plucky lad finally said, wiping tartare sauce from his chin as the sun dripped towards the horizon, “Larry really is the best of us.”
I simply nodded, then watched a heron swaggering through the scrub as I allowed Gordon the time to gather his thoughts.
“He’s the reason that we travel up and down these dusty roads,” my friend continued, jabbing a furry finger towards the towering lobster. “Why we’ve given up any vestige of normal life to chronicle to stories of Australia’s Big Things. A handful of normal men took a ludicrous idea and turned it into reality, and in doing so changed the culture of this country forever. They made millions of people happy with a work of art that, hand on heart, can proudly stand alongside anything the human race has ever accomplished.”
Gordon’s words encapsulated my own feelings. All I could do was hug him in the waning light, until the ink black night enveloped us. When I finally opened my eyes, Larry the Lobster was illuminated, hovering over us like a four-storey fever dream.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I smiled.
“Sweet,” chuckled Gordon. “Can we get some butter-and-fennel-poached lobster rolls on the way home?”
“Shhh,” I giggled, bundling Gordon into the Bigsmobile. “He’ll hear you!”
