David Jenkins

Opinion

Going to battle with Napoleon

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

I love Florida. I love everything from the beaches, to the beaches and did I mention the beaches? But not everything on the beach loves me.

While in Florida last week for some much needed R&R, my girlfriend, her daughter and I decided to walk the beach late one night.

As we were walking to the beach, my girlfriend's daughter, Lexi, said she wanted to see a large crab. Be careful what you wish for.

The walk started out innocently enough. The ocean waves crashing on the shore and the smell of salt water in the air. Then we saw our first crab.

When we shined our flashlights on the little booger, it scurried toward the water afraid. Not bigger than a quarter, I understood how it could be scared.

Then we took a couple steps and Lexi stopped in her tracks and turned her flashlight to her right.

"Guys, I think I saw something move."

And she did. An extra large crab that moved like it had jet engines across that sand. It was at this point we noticed that crabs were everywhere.

A little ways down the beach my flashlight found another large crab. Only this one wasn't scurrying away. Instead it was playing dead.

I took a long, thin stick and poked the little guy, trying to see if he was alive. He pinched at the stick and the girls screamed. So I saw an opportunity.

As we continued walking the beach I would occasionally jump as if I saw a crab. Or we would stop and look at one and I would run a stick up their legs to startle them. It was fun until I met Napoleon.

On our walk back we came across a little hermit crab the size of a dime that was scurrying across the beach. It froze when my flashlight hit it.

Now I was just making sure I didn't step on the little guy by shining my flashlight on him. He saw this as an act of war.

That little hermit crab thought he was the size of a giant when he made the decision to come after me at full speed with pinchers ready to try and break my skin.

Little Napoleon came at me like he was shot out of a cannon with speed that rivaled the speed of sound. And that little critter meant business.

I had a couple choices. First I could have stepped on him in my bare feet, killing him and risking the chance of getting pinched on the bottom of the foot. Or I could have just stood there and let the little rascal pinch me with his microscopic pinchers.

I chose the third option which was jump out of the way. Apparently it was a sight to behold as both feet left the ground, spraying both ladies with sand. At least I didn't scream like a girl, although you never would have been able to hear it over the laughter of the girls.

The rest of the walk I was preoccupied with Napoleon. I felt like he was stalking me, watching my every move just waiting for the chance to sink his tiny pinchers into my baby-soft skin. I was so preoccupied I almost stepped on two crabs the size of a small house without noticing.

Fortunately I made it back to the condo safely. But every trip to the beach after that, I could feel a beady pair of eyes on me. I know it was Napoleon, plotting his next attack. I sure hope he stays in Florida. If he gets any bigger, his pinchers might even be big enough to draw blood.