We didn't catch these. We bought them off the dock from some hardcore old crabbers1 on the way back to town. Crabs are probably on my list of top three favorite foods, and these were the most spectacular crabs I'd ever seen.2
1 As an armchair sociologist, briefly hanging out with these guys was absolutely fascinating: just an hour from town but a world apart, out past the levee system, guys who go out into the saltwater and make their living from what they find there, a lifetime spent in this end-of-the-earth marsh-and-gulf world.a
a And the people who inhabit that world are not like you and me. Did you see Beasts of the Southern Wild? These guys (and ladies) could have played extras as occupants of "The Bathtub". (I realize I sound like a hopeless urbanite. Fair enough. I spent my years in rural Virginia, but this is not that. And I am undeniably first and foremost a city boy. Maybe it also sounds condescending. I don't mean it too. The skill and back-breaking work they bring to this dangerousb and fickle profession: seriously impressive.)2 Except for the couple dozen beautiful specimens we bought off of them, their haul was destined for Baltimore — harvested in battered old boats, packed into shiny containers, and whisked away by jet to be consumed as delicacies in the far off establishments of the East Coast.
b The oldest of the old timers told us the story — in a near incomprehensible accent — of his neighbor in the next boat over who lost his hand a while back but now wore a prosthetic hatchet-hand and could still "work like the best of them".