Getting Crabby

They have some funny traditions here in Grenada.

Last night, a few friends and I gathered around a circle drawn in the sand and cheered frantically for a few crabs.

On a little corner of the beach, beneath the glamour of a hotel and the beats of a bar, a few crabs go to work every Monday night at 9 p.m.

The Crab Races at the Owl was the first time I got so excited about something so anti-climactic. They place about six crabs in a metal bowl in the center of a sand-drawn ring and people place their $2 bets. When everyone has picked their favorite, the odds are announced and the bowl is tipped.

And they are off!

Last night, the first race’s crabs were named after countries. Then the next shift was named after world leaders. The odds against Obama were 6-1.

We cheer along with the British tourists for a solid five minutes until the first crab meanders his way out of the circle and the little kids on their holiday come and pick them all up by their crusty little shells.

We had a great time and a fun night with some great girls. Thanks for getting me out of the house ladies!

Thanks Jessica for letting me use your close up crab picture!