Crab is King

The waters here are shallow and cold, given to freeze, with shelves of ice that drive down from the north, encroaching on the whale roads and fishing grounds, and winter’s cold winds howl across Siberia and over the frozen sea to the hard breed of men that still go out and risk their very lives for the promise of quick hard earned cash.  Think on it when you taste of that briny meat, brought up from the dark fathoms of the Bering Sea.  See the men clad in foul weather gear amid the tossing waves laboring to bring over the side the harvest of the seas bounty, sorting, storing, and then setting their catch on its journey from the fishing grounds here to the rest of the world; the buffets of Vegas, sushi restaurants of Japan, the delicatessens of Manhattan.  As I look about the world up here it is a world sustained by the snow crab of winter, and the brown, red, and blue king crab of summer and fall, and the people, the food, the gasoline, the houses, the luxuries, are all driven by the industry that brings it to your table.

Of the actual crustacean in which we are speaking, I know little.  They migrate together in large groups over the sea mounds of the cold shallow Bering Sea, keeping in the colder waters, often close to the winter ice shelf, and the seasons set forth for their fishing coincides with their most active adult life, usually when they are close to mating. After caught they must be kept alive, for when they spoil they spoil quickly, and once one dies, the rest kept confined in the hold may be soon to follow.  Other than how to cook them, this is what I know.

The way it was and is: There once was a time when little restrained fishermen.  There once was a quota, and the quota was large.  500 million pounds of crab for a season, and the season was defined by when the crab were at their most mature.  When their shells were at the hardest.  And for those that fished for them the profits were tremendous.  There is an illogical non-science to the argument of many a fisherman that the this was the best way of fishing, and that the harder the fishery is fished the harder the species reproduces, and that there could never be a time in which the seas will cease to give up their bounty.  But what short sightedness it is that we cannot remember the whaling fleets of last century, or the seal and otter fur trade of the century before that, that nearly drove those species to extinction. 

The opening day of any particular crabbing season was, and still is, a festive affair, in which the ships took to the sea much in the fashion of the great land races of Oklahoma, each boat setting out to claim their line in the sea.  Their purchase of this watery territory based on some sort of past history with its coordinates, a hunch, or just dumb luck, following such intuition to their millions that lay beneath the waves.  It was a first come and first serve capitalism on fishing, and when the fleet quota was reached the season was ended, and whoever was lucky paid out in great fortunes, and whoever was less lucky paid out in lesser fortunes, and for some it paid out not at all.  It was fast and it was hard, and under this system ships and men were driven to great extremes.  During that era crews worked 21 hour days, with 3 hour naps for 5 or more days on end while the ship filled their holds to capacity, and when the catch was secured it was off to the closest cannery, unload, then back to it.  Ships crewed by weary sailors took great risks in heavy seas for their share.  They flirted with the ice, fought the winds, men were lost, washed overboard or dragged to the bottom by a pot, and too often the Coast Guard was called out from Kodiak Island to rescue some weather beaten and frozen crew stranded atop their capsized vessel, and those whom survived were the fortunate ones.  It was wild, it was a bonanza, and it was where most would learn the meaning of mortality. 

Within the last decade, shortly after the premier of the Discovery Channel show ‘Deadliest Catch’ a new system was devised.  Instead of a fleet quota, quotas were, and are, set for each individual vessel.  This quota was determined by the vessel’s history of how much they had caught before the new system.  In this new system the ship now has the entire season harvest their catch.  The men are no longer driven so hard, and it is generally known how much each crewmember will make before setting out. And when the ship has met her quota, the crew stacks up the pots ashore, and flies home.  Fewer vessels are lost, fewer men washed overboard, and the money is more evenly distributed. When this new process was emplaced there was a lot of push back.  The boats wanted the gamble.  They felt they would make more money, and make it quicker than under the new quota system.  Now the adjustment period is over, and the older salts might whisper to you under their breath that it is better this way, while others are holdouts, cursing the government’s interference in their industry. 

At times quotas are leased from one owner to another, and in this case the crew make less money for their toils.  It is reminiscent of the old Nantucket days when citizens would own lays on whaling vessels.  Maybe as little as a nail, as much as a plank or spar, investing in such a way that the investors profited first before the men who had committed three years to the whale boats to chase the great leviathan across the watery highways.  So it was, and now is, but in those days the investments were often made for widowed sea captain’s wives and the like.  It is hard to imagine it is widows who now profit from these leased quotas. 

Of the figures: Your average crab weighs about 1 ¼ pounds, and the market price on them right now is running around seven dollars a pound.  Of the two ships we here on the Malolo have connection with, the Arctic Sea and Fierce Allegiance, the formers quota is at 2.8 million pounds, the latter at 2.4 million.  That means their quota can be worth 3-3.5 million dollars.  Now, the average hold will keep some 500 million pounds of crab, and each boat will take out and collect about 700 pots, each weighing about 1,000 pounds.  They do not carry all these pots in one run, but will set some out, go back to get more, set those, and then return to their first set.  The pots have a tag-line, a synthetic rope, of a length greater than 100 fathoms (600 feet), that is tied to a bouy.  The tag-line and bouy are grappled, then the line is hauled aboard and the pot is pulled to the surface by a winch, then hauled on deck with a crane.  The crab are sorted and then stored in the live well.  A good crabber with some salt, well under the age of 30 even, can bring in 120,000$ a year at this work.  That would be roughly 40,000$ a trip. 

The Market: Once these fishing vessels go out to sea and fill their hold they have to take them to market.  In Dutch Harbor there are three such canneries.  There is also one in the Pribilof Islands on St Paul.  This one is closest to the fishing grounds, and is well known for being the fastest in turning out the hold and getting the vessel out fishing again.  Unfortunately, since it is so close to the fishing grounds its harbor is given to freeze over from time to time.  So the mighty Malolo goes up and breaks the ice for them, and usually a box of crab for each of the crew is the appreciated tip.  We fortunately, yet unfortunately, have not had to break up the St Paul harbor.  However it is next on our list of stops.  There is also a small inlet in which a processing ship is moored called Beaver Inlet.  The crabbers will pull alongside this vessel and off load their catch there were it is processed and loaded onto a barge that is tied up on the otherside. 

There is another operation call Catcher / Processors.  They are larger fishing vessels, crewed by professional mariners, fished by professional fisherman.  However they have their own built in processing area where the crab, or fish, is immediately packaged and frozen for shipment.  Of course this is a large operation, entirely self sufficient, and so isolated from our end of the business. 

Once the crab is taken to the canneries they are flash boiled then frozen and packaged.  The workers of this industry are generally Pilipino and Korean.  Though there are a good number of Africans shivering their way about the docks throwing crab, and this number is increasing.  The Seafood companies fly these laborers in, house them in barracks, feed them in cafeterias, then ship them out come seasons end.  Making Dutch Harbor somewhat of an international town. 

Once the crab is frozen, and packaged, they are either loaded onto large ships with refrigerated holds, or loaded into refrigerated shipping containers.  The latter enter into our sphere.  These containers are electrically powered and keep the crab frozen at around -15 to -20 degrees Fahrenheit.  You may recognize some of the names of these containers.  Maersk, and Hapag-Lloyd are the two larger ones. Alaska Marine Lines (AML) is the shipping line that our company has a contract with.  These containers are stacked and lashed with chain onto the barge, and staggered throughout their ranks are generators housed also in shipping containers with a fuel tank lashed atop of them.  In this way tugs will ship the catch to Seattle markets.  Each container holds 70,000 pounds of some 87,500 dollars worth of crab.  Fishermen, canners, longshoremen, mariners, tugboaters, and all the essential industries to support them.  This is the world of Dutch Harbor, Alaska.    

The ships are now gathering, their season is concluding.  They sailed in the first days of December from Seattle, Sitka, and Kodiak.  Crewed mostly by men from the northwest to man the pots, and the lucky and unlucky ships.  They are a haughty breed.  Worn thin and weathered and exhausted by their sleepless shifts combating the freezing spray of the sea. 

Ishmael once said such an audience that took interest in the happenings of the whaling fleets of Nantucket to be prudent when they burned that precious oil.  So likewise, be prudent when you taste of that succulent crab, if only you knew the trials the wild harvesters underwent to bring such succulent crustaceans to your pallet.  You may thank the good lord as you bless the spread of the buffet line before you, but don’t forget to thank the sailors, too.  Up here, Crab is King.

The Malolo’s favorite means of conveying crab to the belly is as follows:

Up here it is known as either Seafood Benedict, or Crab Benedict.  But if using Blue Crab it is certainly known as The Virginian Benedict.  Fair warning, love the ones you prepare this for, it is labor intensive, but very rewarding. 

Crab (The Virginian) Benedict

2 Tbsp- Butter

¼ cup minced shallot

1 Tbsp- minced red bell pepper

1tsp- minced garlic

1 lb lump crab meat

1 egg-lightly beaten

¼ cup mayonnaise

1 Tbsp- Dijon Mustard

¼ tsp- ground red pepper (optional)

1 tsp- old bay seasoning

salt and pepper to taste

¼ cup minced parsley and dill combined

2 Tbsp- fresh bread crumbs (panko preferred)

2 cups- panko bread crumbs set aside

¼ cup butter.

4 English muffins

8 slices of Canadian Bacon

8 eggs

Heat 2 Tbsp butter in a skillet and add next 3 ingredients until tender.  Mix next nine ingredients in a bowl and add butter mixture and combine thoroughly.  Form into 8 small cakes and coat each in panko bread crumbs, pressing down firmly to pack the breading in.  Place cakes on a baking sheet lined with wax paper and refrigerate for at least one hour.  This will hold the cakes together when they cook.  When ready, heat remaining butter over medium-high fire.  When hot pan fry the cakes, turning once half way through, for a total of 8-10 minute. When done place cakes on baking sheet and hold in a warm oven until ready to serve.

Meanwhile, toast English muffins, heat Canadian bacon, and poach eggs.

Serve cakes over bacon and muffin, topped with a poached egg and Hollandaise sauce, garnished with scallions and a dash of Paprika.

- Crab Cakes Recipe modified to taste from, The Joy of Cooking

Holandaise

12 Tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

6 large egg yolks

½ cup boiling water

2 teaspoons lemon juice

1/8 tsp cayenne pepper

salt

Whisk butter and egg yolks together in large stainless steel bowl set over medium saucepan filled with ½ inch simmering water, making sure that water does not touch the bottom of the bowl.  Slowly add ½ cup of boiling water, whisking constantly, until consistency is reached and sauce registers 160 degrees, 7-10 minutes.  Off heat, stir in lemon juice and cayenne.  Season with salt to taste.  Serve.

Makes 2 cups

- Hollandaise Sauce Recipe from; Cook’s Illustrated