His beady eyes avoided mine, gazing up towards the headland. “Say, have you seen any Asian paddle crabs?” I was still wearing board shorts, halfway through autumn. They’ve gotta stop those big trawlers and stretching bloody nets all over the place.” These days I can barely tell my legs from my claws, the clarity’s that bad. Not to mention the heat and the water quality. “I hear that! It’s bloody hard getting away from the kids too.” He must’ve seen dolphins launching from waves all the time. “Cheers,” I said, though I wondered whether he was just pumping my tyres. He was listing to and fro amid the building swell. “Not bad,” the crab said when I returned to the takeoff zone. It was one of the best waves I’d ever surfed. I bent my knees in anticipation and was launched into the air, my arms and body following my head, until I’d landed a complete 360 into the flats, the wave now whimpering to shore. I flew along the wave, the afternoon sun warming my face, and watched a mouth-watering section march towards me. I’d let a few good-looking waves pass me by, but when a nice wedgy peak jacked up in front of me, I couldn’t help myself. He showed me his back legs, shaped like paddles. Say, I thought you guys sort of just scuttled along the sea floor?” His blue claws, both bulbous and sharp as a tack, remained closed. “How’s it going?” he said, just floating there on the surface of the water. “G’day,” I said, in my friendliest voice. “Howdy, partner,” he said as I waited for a wave. I came across a crab while surfing an empty beach break one afternoon.
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