Swimming crabs seldom fail to make their presence felt. A sudden splash followed by a dark body that dashes towards a coral outcrop or bloom of weed usually signals the flight of a frightened portunid. If the crab finds itself in a soft spot, it might decide to dig its way out of sight. Cornered individuals might make a bold stand, claws agape and ready to deliver a testy pinch to fishy mouths and ducky pokes. Thalamita species in particular are wont to fight rather than flee, while Charybdis and Portunus swimmers seem more inclined to paddle or shovel their way to safety. In their haste, accidents can happen. One frantic fella darted away from my duck only to crash into the embrace of a carpet anemone. The cnidarian reacted near-instantly, folding its oral disc of stinging tentacles over the crab, which decided with just enough speed that it'd rather lose a limb than its life. With luck, the crab will survive and regain all its appendages with its next moult, but for now, it must get by with one less arm.
Soldier crabs and tiny fiddlers burrow in the sand bar, where they await rare hours of exposure that permit foraging and fornicating. The hairy crabs that prowl the rubble care less, as their scruffy shells hide a decidedly toxic disposition. A new find this trip was a reef crab with spoon-tipped claws and the personality of a grouch. For some reason, my duck never learns and the crab responded to attempts to manouevre it into more intimate positions by poking back with enough bite that my duck's next crabby encounter, with a busy Parthenopid, was strictly at arm's length.
Just after it got dim enough for my duck remember that he's afraid of the dark, the path back to the boat was blocked by a freshly-moulted flower crab that sat on the sand as he pondered his next move. Actually, I doubt he could even muster the strength to pinch my duck as he seemed too tired from shimmying out of his old skin to even poke back. But once he's hardened up, the fella probably had a wild weekend in his new garb as he scoured the reef for still-softshelled maidens who'd signal their passion by pissing off a dose of pheromones into the water. Even with crabs, it's chemistry that matters.
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