Three hours before high tide. We’ve checked the boat. It still starts. That’s key. We load it up with rings, pots and boxes. We’re going crabbing. On the Oregon Coast. Yes – you heard me. OREGON. Oregon Girl and crew are back around the world for a month visiting family and friends. In Oregon. It’s a little surreal. In the best way. Don’t worry Denmark, we’ll be back. But for now, we’re soaking up, tasting, seeing, hugging all those things and people that we missed. It’s good.
Have you been crabbing? I have done this in Oregon as long as I can remember living here. Maine may have lobstahs, but here on the Pacific Northwest Coast, we hunt Dungeness Crab. Growing up in Eugene – a university town that sits mid-state off Interstate 5 in western Oregon – we frequent the central Oregon coast between the little towns of Florence and Newport. And we’re more than lucky that my mom loves sharing her coast house. We spend most of our time in charming and quirky, but oh so cozy Yachats. (Don’t call it Yeah-chats. It’s YAH-hots. It’s a Native American thing. Siletz tribe to be exact. It translates loosely to “dark water at the foot of the mountain.” Speaking my language.)