Masters of Bluff

  As I have said before, one of my favorite pastimes is watching critters.  It matters not what types of animals I encounter, they interest me. Their defense actions, feeding techniques and even their nesting habits intrigue me.  People could learn a lot by watching the critters around them as most animals behave a lot nicer than most humans. 

  This afternoon, I grew weary of chores so headed out to traipse around the hillside.  As usual, I wound up at the marsh edge.  There is never a shortage of critters living in the marsh and each face a daily struggle to survive.  Bayou life is not easy for humans nor critters but we choose to live here and each love the place....so we stay.  This afternoon's entertainment providers were the "Masters of Bluff" better known as Fiddler Crabs.  The male crabs have this bright idea that if they wave their large claw in the air, it will prove their virility.  While the younger crabs actual have fierce combats, it is not after a good bit of intimidation by "my claw is larger than yours".  This goes on for a while until one gets a bit foul tempered and attacks.  The battle ensues but not much damage is done to anything but egos.  The older crabs win their ladyloves merely by having larger claws.  These claws are moot points as the ability to wave the large claw is about as far as the fierceness goes. Waving and battling abilities are two entirely different things in the crab world.  

  Fiddler Crabs live about two years and during that time will shed their shells periodically.  If a leg or claw is missing, a new one replaces it with each molt. If they have not lost a claw, the old one just gets bigger. With each molt, the crab seems to lose a bit of strength in its claw.  The mobility increases but it is just a bluff.  The weaker claw can wave intensely but not do much in defense.  

They are hard to see but there are more than a dozen male Fiddler Crabs waving their claws in this photo.

  All of this waving and battling is purely to attract females.  The better display and the larger the waving claw signals a strong male (whether that bluff is in action or not!).   That large claw also is indicative of how roomy a burrow is so the female goes for the guy with the bigger house!  A lot of times, the older crabs merely bluff their way into attracting females and intimidating young males.  In other words, the male simply lies his way through courtship.   It is all about survival of the fittest and if you can make others believe you are strong then you will come out on top.  Whatever works.

The Welcome Visitor

  One thing about living on the Bayou, you never know who might drop in for a visit.  Sometimes, I go weeks without seeing a human visitor but I can always depend on my critter friends to pay a call.  I am good with that.  Critter friends leave behind all of the whining and gossiping to just be friends.  There is no drama involved in our conversations and, though their visits are often fleeting, I feel honored that they came at all.  I guess it all goes back to that thing about people who overstay their welcome.  Critters never do.  Their visits are short and to the point and then they take their leave.  No bad at all.

   Down near the east side of the property right on the shore of the Bayou, there sits an old oak tree.  The branches drape down into the water and create a small "room" that is shut off from most of the world. This area is maybe ten feet across and twelve wide.  During high tide, the floor of this "room" is filled with water but as the tide drops, a small puddle remains. In reality, it is a pretty neat little place.  Blocked from view on all sides except an opening here and there, the old oak tree provides shelter to critters that come to dine on minnows and crabs in the pool.  It was here that I was down on my knees trying to film the rivalry of the male fiddler crabs. Hundreds of the little crabs had invaded the area and were frantically waving their large claws as a warning to each other.  Not much actual fighting ensues but it is pretty interesting to watch. You get a couple of hundred crabs together and let them wave their claws and it starts to resemble some weird dance.  

  While I was kneeling just a few feet from the water's edge, I had a perfect view of the inner portion of the "room".  There was not much happening until suddenly, I had a visitor.  A small raccoon was searching for supper and obviously knew right where to come.  The little fellow paid no attention to my presence and started scurrying about trying to catch trapped minnows.  After several photographs, the critter finally noticed me.  He kept feeding but eased closer to the far side of the branches.  From this point, the little raccoon could keep an eye on me all the while catching bull minnows.  

  Neither of us made the effort to vacate the area so our visit lasted a good twenty minutes.  I sure enjoyed his company!  I love my critter friends!

Monsters From The Murky Depths Of The Bayou

  Fiddler crabs are funny little creatures.  They spend most of their time in the mud.  They dig burrows in the soft mud, they spend hours sifting mud to find food and they hibernate in the mud during the winter.  With all this dealings with mud, you would think these were "mudbugs" but not so.  Mudbugs are crayfish or as we call them down here "crawfish".  But back to those crazy little crabs.  Usually, fiddler crabs are pretty docile critters if you can ever catch one.  The speedy little crabs dart into their holes so fast that it is unusual that one is caught.  If you are lucky enough to catch one, however, it is a rare occurrence that you will be on the receiving end of a pinch.  Their claws are used more for feeding and for their ostentatious display during courtship.

  It is also rare to see any actual combat between rival males.  More oft than not, the larger of two competing males will intimidate the smaller one.  Just waving a larger claw around in the air seems to be enough battle for the crabs.  Today, however, I noticed a regular battle happening down near the marsh.  

  The tide was unusually high causing water to flood up under the old oak trees.  A small disturbance in the water caught my eye and I immediately thought that a tiny snake was having trouble getting ashore.  As I stood staring at the ripples, two large claws rose up out of the water.  The claws were clasping each other as two males fought over territory and a female that was observing the fight.  She actually seemed to be a bit unimpressed with the whole ordeal.

  I watched for a few minutes but decided that being chewed upon by hoards of mosquitoes was not a bright idea.  The fiddler crabs would have to settle their differences without my interference.  Yeah, I was really bored today.  So much so that I watched an underwater battle between two crabs.

I Caught One!

  Early this morning, I headed to the pier.  Knowing that a lot of chores awaited my attention, the hike would have to be cut short but the water called.  Near the pier on the mudflats, four rails were busy scooping up bull minnows that were trapped in the tide pools.  The birds hardly noticed my presence and kept on fishing even though I was a mere few feet from them.  

  One young bird was having a particularly tough time catching his fill of bull minnows.  Time after time, he would plunge his bill into the shallow water and come up empty.  The minnows would scatter in the now muddy water and escape being eaten.  After several tries without catching anything, the bird tried a new tactic. He forewent the minnows and went after the fiddler crabs.  The small crabs had buried themselves in the soft mud as protection against the cool night.  Our friendly rail had success in catching its meal with the first attempt.  The tiny crab was not giving up its fight.  It wriggled enough that the rail dropped it twice before snatching the crab and running to the harder mud near the marsh.  There, the bird could drop the crab and stab it. Once it was dead, the rail could pull it apart and devour it.

  Of the four birds that were working the mudflats, only the one was interested in the fiddler crabs.  The other three feasted upon fat bull minnows.  Perhaps the young bird needed a bit more tutoring on the fine art of spearfishing or perhaps it had a taste for crab.  He was pretty excited when he caught that first one!

The Lost Love

  The other day, I sat for a while on the pier.  I was not on the end near the water but up about halfway near the mudflats.  This place fascinates me.  There is so much life happening on the flats...so much drama, if you please.  What caught my attention this time was the fiddler crabs. Three crabs in particular were having their own "soap opera" right in front of me.  These crabs, I named.  First to enter the stage was Frederick.  Frederick was a small crab in comparison to some of the others but what he lacked in size, he made up for with spunk.  He thought he was boss.  His goal today was to win the heart of the fair Fiona.  Fiona was the young lass who spent her time twiddling the mud with her petite claws.  She was a looker, that is for sure!  Frederick was smitten with first sight of the fair Fiona.  He sidled up to her and waved his large fiddle claw!  This was sure to impress!  If all went well, he would be taking a bride this very day.  Fiona scooted back a bit.  She was uncertain about this suitor.  She had been courted by others and this was starting to get a bit boring.  All of these young swains thought they were beyond others...hmmmph!  She wanted excitement!

Frederick

The fair Fiona.

  Enter Herman.  Herman had been around for a while.  He was much larger than Frederick and waved his fiddle claw around with quite the panache!  He KNEW he was something special and knew how to catch a girl's attention.  Fiona turned toward Herman.  She was awestruck!  She saw stars whirling about and was dazzled by the fiddle claw!  Ahhhhh, true love was in the air!

Herman

Flair wins...Herman and Fiona forever!

  Now for all of you who thought this was going to be a tale about the underdog coming out on top....sorry.  Frederick did not win the hand....uhh...claw of the fair Fiona.  He lost to the handsome Herman. Herman led Fiona off to his abode and Frederick stood waving that fiddle claw to no future bride.  But no worries!  There are other fish in the sea...oh, wait, crabs on the mudflats!  Frederick just kept waving the claw in hopes that some other ladylove would take notice.  He had spunk!

Hurricane Hunters and Fiddler Crabs

  Late this afternoon, Ms. Ez and I headed to the pier for our usual evening outing.  The old Bayou Dog and I would much rather be on that pier than anywhere else on the hill.  Just as we were stepping off the board path that leads down to the pier, I heard a large plane take off from Keesler Air Base.  Ahh, one of our Hurricane Hunters was out for a run.  I pondered if there was something out there in the Gulf that had not caught my attention yet.  I admit that I have been a bit lax on my weather watches as of late.  Still, it did not seem to be the type weather that had anything dire pending.  I made a mental note to check the weather once we returned to the Little Bayou House.  As for now, she and I were going to enjoy the heavy breeze blowing across the Bay.  

  A bit further along, I noticed a good many Fiddler Crabs were scurrying about the mudflats.  These critters always fascinate me with their mating dances.  The male crab with his one humongous claw looks a bit clownish.  The female has two small claws. During the summer, the male will dig a tidy tunnel to use as a home.  When it is complete,  he will wave that claw as high as he can hoist it in hopes that it will catch the attention of his ladylove.  If she is interested, she will stay a bit to watch his dance.  After catching her interest, the male will dart into his burrow and drum his claw inside the burrow.  He will climb out to check on her and then go back to drum again.  If she follows, he will seal up the tunnel with a mud ball and follow down into the burrow.  There, they began their family.  She will stay in the tunnel for up to two weeks while she incubates the eggs. He stands outside and guards the tunnel from intruders. She will emerge from the tunnel to release her eggs into the water where they hatch and develop into little juvenile Fiddler Crabs.

  It is said that two days before a hurricane or bad storm, the Fiddler Crabs will seek out higher ground to make burrows.  They will bury themselves to keep protected from the storm's tidal surge.  Common lore says that the farther the crabs go inland to burrow, the stronger the incoming storm will be.  In some ways, this makes a lot of sense.  With a tidal surge putting them at risk of being washed out to deeper water, the little crustaceans (like smart people) might ought to find higher ground. 

  I am not sure whether the crabs have any ability to predict storms or if this is a bunch of hogwash.  I do know that those Hurricane Hunter folks are the true heroes in letting us know the severity of any tempests that might be brewing in the Gulf.  I think I will just stick with their predictions. 

 

Something's Missing!

There is something missing from the Bayou this summer! I have been awaiting the annual occurrence of the arrival of the Fiddler Crabs. They are usually highly visible from about July through September but for some reason, here it is August and no Fiddler Crabs can be seen. This puzzles me a bit because ever since I can remember, the crabs have come. Their burrows would always dot the mud banks causing them to resemble some giant sponge. Thousands upon thousands of the crabs would scamper across the mudflats. The males would wave their ridiculously large claw around as they threatened all the other males to stay away from their territory. But not this summer..my Fiddler Crabs are not here. They are no where to be seen on the Bayou. It seems strange..eerie..just plain not right. Where, oh, where are my Fiddler Crabs?

The mudflats with nary a Fiddler Crab!

I pondered the fact of the non-appearing crabs. There has to be some explanation. Although it is disappearing at a rapid rate, the marsh seems to be healthy. All of the other wildlife seem to be thriving even without the easy meals that the crabs supplied. The rails, herons and egrets have all resorted to fishing and asking for handouts instead of gorging themselves upon the crustaceans. The otters, raccoons and foxes are not scouring the mudflats for meals as the crabs are not easy-pickings like they usually are. Where, oh, where are my Fiddler Crabs?

Fiddler Crabs as they usually are on the mudflats.

I asked around but not one other person has noticed the missing crabs. I suppose they are just not important enough to most folks..they are to me. Not that I depend upon these little creepy-crawlers to serve any important service for me, it is just that I know the health of my Bayou depends on an equal balance of nature. Take out one of the elements and something else suffers. That balance is what it is all about..it is necessary. Perhaps my crabs are just late this year..perhaps they have taken up residence in the middle of the marsh where I cannot readily see them..perhaps there is some unseen peril that has befallen my Bayou. All in all..I miss the little guys skittering across the mudflats like some huge swarm of spiders! Where, oh , where are my Fiddler Crabs????

The Pear..

I have raised a pear! A lone, single, solitary pear..not a crop of pears..not even a basket of pears. It would have even been nice to have say..a dozen pears. No..I have one. One lonely pear hangs on my tree. Every morning, I stroll around the garden admiring the bountiful crops..we have picked buckets of black berries, bushels of tomatoes and tubs of peas. Then I turn the corner and the single pear comes into view.."the" pear..the lonely pear. Truth be told, it is a nice pear and it is actually rather impressive that the tree made even this one. I planted two pear trees in April not thinking that they would bear this year, but one blossom hung on to create a fruit. It is quite the large pear..nearly the size of a softball and hopefully this means that any future crops will be large. Lets just hope there are future "crops" and no more solo acts! The fact remains though that my entire crop is one pear..one sad pear. On the plus side..being a single fruit, it has not even attracted the attention of any of the hungry animals. (I think they do not believe it is worth the effort!)

Something grabbed my attention today..or rather the lack of something grabbed my attention. Since the summer began, the mudflats of the Bayou have been literally crawling with Fiddler Crabs. Yesterday, there were thousands.. today, there are none. I could not find a single Fiddler Crab anywhere. I have no idea where this many critters could have disappeared to in such a short time. Their holes have all been abandoned, there is no trace of them. I do not think that anything dire has occurred, I just have never seen this happen before. Sure, there were times when they would seek higher ground before storms, but I would always see them crawling around the hillside. Somehow, millions of tiny crustaceans have gone missing. I will have to start sleuthing around to see if I can find their whereabouts!