It’s common to catch crabs in Cancún and, with cuties like Clawdia, that’s cause for shellebration. Just look at her melon-heavy cephalothorax – who wouldn’t want to drizzle lemon juice all over it ?
The leggy Latina lives atop Ferry’s Cantina, which is famous throughout México for its fresh fish tacos and all-you-clam-eat lobster burritos. I’m on a low-crabohydrate diet, so went with a nip of tequila with a pinch of salt… and some crabtivating conversation with Diego, the restaurant’s ever-attentive busboy. What more could a guy mollusc for!
Better still, it’s right next to the ferry to the salubrious Isla Mujeres, home to the much-loved Iggy la Iguana. I suggest you power up with a plate of tostadas al pastor before making the trip out there – you know how crabby you get when you’re hungry!
I want to scuttle those persistent rumours and say that, despite being enthralled by her soft, pink, juicy meat, Clawdia and I are just claws friends. However, I did go out on a date with Miguel, one of the restaurant’s handsome security prawns, but his feisty Latin temperament was just too much for me.
Honestly, Miguel, did you have to beat up every man who looked my way? You’re shrimpossible sometimes.
Oh well, there’s plenty more shellfish in the crustacean!
A single, trembling chela drew me closer. A set of bulbous eyes crawled across my lithe body. Shivers ran down my spine and, for the briefest of moments, I contemplated following my deepest carnal urges. Then reason returned and I struggled against the advances of the massive crustacean.
Klaws Kinski, with his movie star good looks and bad boy swagger, was the sort of enormous crab who drives all the boys wild. So why did I find myself pulling away from his powerful grip?
“Bigs, relax babe, is 2022,” Klaws gurgled in his syrupy Eastern European accent. “Nobody shocked by same-sex relationship anymore. Especially not here in Tweed Head.” “Firstly, Klaws, I’ll thank you not to assume my gender,” I replied, pushing away his powerful propodus. “But it’s not that.”
“So is because I am crab? Bigs, I thought you were more open-minded than this. I mean, I am not the first oversized sea creature you’ve been with.” “You leave the Big Prawn out of this,” I snapped. “What we had was very special and he remains an important decapod in my life. If I’m going to be honest, it won’t work out between us because…”
“Because of what, Bigs?” Klaws snapped, flexing his unguis. He had a reputation for being an intense, erratic and intimidating crab, but even I was shocked by his behaviour. “Because of what, you big baby?”
“It’s because you’re only half a crab, Klaws. Your head, thorax and hind legs are painted onto the side of a barn.” “What are you trying to say, Bigs?” “You’re a billboard with pincers, Klaws. You’re not a Big Thing at all. Now get your filthy – yet juicy and delicious – fingers off me.”
Klaws, but no cigar
Despite being several thousand times the size of a regular mud crab, Klaws suddenly seemed very small indeed. I’d like to say I’d never seen him looking so flat, but come on, he’s mostly a two-dimensional drawing, so that’s just how he is.
But something made me turn back. Klaws is capable of anything – what if my harsh words had caused him to self-harm? He may have even found solace in the alcoholism that had made him the most reviled roadside attraction to come out of the legendary Natureworks studios.
I should’ve known better. Within minutes of telling me I was the only one he had eight eyes for, Klaws had already moved on. There he was with a group of young Korean tourists clasped within his burly grip, posing for a selfie.
He sautéed them with the same saccharine words used to lure me in – all “I’m crayfish for you” and “Do you want to see my love mussel?” At that moment I realised that a crustacean like Klaws Kinski, even when slathered in a rich garlic sauce, can never truly feel love.
Next time you’re cray-ving a succulent seafood sandwich whilst driving along the Bruce Highway, nip in to the Shell service station at Miriam Vale. Not only will you encounter the most sensational food in the Gladstone region, but you can get up claws and personal with the lovable Big Crab!
He’s around two-metres wide and hasn’t scuttled off the roof of the servo since arriving in 1979, because he’s a bit of a hermit. But don’t worry, he doesn’t swear much and is certainly not a crass-tacean! Honestly, I still have to pinch myself to realise my encounter with this Big wasn’t just a dream!
Compared to other sea-dwelling Bigs such as Taree’s outrageously oversized Oyster and the colossal Croc Hotel, this side-strolling stud doesn’t impress with his size, and being on the roof means he can be a menace to take a cheeky selfie with.
Cars kept rolling into the service station as I posed with the snappy chappy, but the drivers invariably smiled and nodded, obviously understanding the majesty and wonder of this particular roadside attraction.
“That giant crab and your sparkling smile are enough to make me forget about the spiralling price of fuel,” one gruff farmer screamed as he peeled out of the car park. I had similar positive responses when I posed with a similar crustacean in San Francisco. I guess it’s hard to be crabby around a Big Thing!
Crabsolutely Fabulous
Former owner of the petrol station, Lex Milner, crafted the colossal cutie to draw attention to his impressive range of home-made crab sandwiches. The delightful Allan and Judy Taylor adopted the amazing arthropod more than two decades ago and still watch their mouthwatering delicacies scurry out the door to this day.
I indulged in one of these irresistible treats and I can tell you there’s nothing fishy about them. I did feel a little guilty tucking into one of the Big Crab’s relatives in front of him, but he’s got a hard shell and didn’t seem too bothered by it.
