Summertime Blues: Awesome Crabbing on the Atlantic Coast

A greenhead horsefly hits like a rattlesnake. Unlike a delicate mosquito bite you won’t feel until the itchy bump crops up later, the fly’s sharp mouth pierces with the pinch of a hypodermic needle. A rivulet of blood runs from the wound after you’ve squashed the aggressor (greenheads may be vicious but they’re slow and oafish). By the end of the day, dozens of mangled flies slosh around the floor of the ramshackle wooden rental boat, becoming the protein in a stew of bay water, glistening chicken fat, fetid bunker oil and flowery Avon Skin So Soft. The concoction simmers all day in the sun, and while most would say it’s off-putting, to me it’s one of the greatest aromas in the world. It is the smell of crabbing at the Jersey Shore.

My Italian grandfather considered himself a blue crab master. He wasn’t, of course, but I believed it when I was 6. I also believed that if you didn’t let the chicken necks sit out in the sun for a few days, they wouldn’t attract as many crabs. And I believed the Skin So Soft would keep the greenheads away, even if it seemed more like a condiment for the biters than a deterrent. I have, over the years, refined some of Pop’s methods, disregarded others with a smirk and developed a few of my own, but what’s important is that my grandfather instilled a love of crabbing in me that has never wavered. It’s a pastime that requires no prior outdoor skills. It’s fun for all ages and something I’ve passed down to my kids. It’s become a routine part of our summers, and I highly recommend making it part of yours.

DON’T GET CRABBY

Blue crabs exist along the Eastern Seaboard from Massachusetts to Florida, as well as throughout the Gulf of Mexico. Within that range, their popularity as recreational and commercial targets varies widely. For example, blue crabs are easier to find in Florida tackle shops as tarpon and permit bait than they are in restaurants. Meanwhile, they define the identity of Maryland where all-you-can-eat crab joints and crab cakes abound.

I mention this to clarify that the methods defined here are “Jersey style.” This is how I learned to crab, and how locals plying the New Jersey bays crab. Our methods will work anywhere these crustaceans live, but means of capture, preferred baits, tactics and crab cookery will certainly vary by region. I do believe the New Jersey method, however, is the simplest, and a great starter strategy.

DEPTH AND FLOW

Maybe you own a boat. Maybe you plan to rent one while on vacation. Or perhaps you’re bound to terra firma. It really doesn’t matter. Sure, being able to get on the water and reach less pressured areas has an advantage, but the elements that make for productive crabbing will be the same whether you’re anchored in a distant creek or kicking back at a public fishing dock, marina or bulkhead. Depth and tidal flow are everything.

As it goes with fish in bays, there is generally a bite window within the tide during which the action with blue crabs is best. In my experience, that’s during the last 3 hours of the incoming tide and the first 3 hours of the outgoing tide. Water flow is the catalyst, as it forces the crabs to move more, uncovers food sources and carries the scent of your bait farther. If you’re crabbing from a dock or bulkhead, high water also tends to draw the crabs closer to you, as the same area at low tide may be too shallow for their liking.

During peak-tide times, the ideal depth is 3 to 6 feet, and that holds whether you’re on land or a boat. Though there are methods for catching crabs in deeper water, they’re less active, usually relying on large commercial-style traps that are dropped in place and left for several hours or overnight before being retrieved. Using large commercial traps—which anyone can buy and become licensed to deploy—is like grocery shopping. Commercial traps are great for securing a lot of crabs, but they delete all the fun. The stuff the kids will remember comes from small traps and hand lines.

HANDLINES OR TRAPS?

The most enjoyable way to target blue crabs is with a simple handline. You can buy these pre-made, and they feature a weighted, safety-pin-style clip for your bait that takes the offering to the bottom quickly. You can also buy a spool of nylon twine and make your own by piercing the bait, running the twine through, tying it in place, then tying a small fishing sinker to the tag end of the knot. From an anchored boat or a dock, it’s important to drop the handline straight down, not throw it way out. The idea is to retrieve it slowly and gently without the crab—preoccupied with feasting on the bait—knowing it’s being lifted off the bottom. If you’re pulling at an angle from a distance, it increases the odds that the crab will catch on to your trickery and let go. This is also why handlining in water deeper than 6 feet is challenging. The more time it takes to get the crab into net range, the stronger the odds it will figure out something’s not right.

Not only will you feel extra weight on a “hot” line, you’ll also feel the crab tugging as it kicks its back legs. If the crab lets go midway up, gently lower the bait to the bottom, as it’ll often return.

Topside, you or one of your crabbing partners needs to be ready with a long-handle scoop net. Don’t dawdle, because the crab will flee when it sees you or the sun. This, of course, is where crabbing legends are made and broken. Who will be the top netter of the day? Who will get ribbed for missing too often? It’s the cheers and jeers that make handlining trips so memorable. Most of the time, however, I mix in a few small crab traps as well. These come in several configurations and designs, but my favorite has always been a standard square trap.

These feature a compartment you stuff full of bait and pin closed. Unlike handlines, traps can be flung off to the side of the boat or farther away from the dock, which helps you cover a wider area. When the trap touches down, its four sides open and lay flat on the bottom. Crabs come in for a snack, and when you pull the trap in quickly, the sides snap shut so they can’t get away. Just remember not to slow down or stop during the retrieve or the “doors” can reopen.

CHICKEN OR FISH?

Over the years, I’ve heard devout crabbers refer to many different baits as “the best.” Bacon is reported to be excellent. A grizzled old fella once told me beef tripe was tops, while another whispered that nothing beats the deer guts he’d save from winter hunting trips. I don’t doubt any of that, but you’ll do just fine with chicken and fish—the New Jersey standards. There is, however, a caveat to the cuts of meat.

Crabs are attracted by scent, so the oilier the bait the better. Though my grandfather liked chicken necks (mostly because they were cheap), I prefer chicken thighs. The skin and fat leech out more scent and oil, and the skin gives the crabs something to hang on to, increasing the chances you’ll get them into net range on a hand line. If you want to spice up your thighs, marinate them in a little vegetable oil, parmesan cheese from a shaker and garlic powder.

In New Jersey, oil-rich menhaden is arguably the number-one crab bait. It’s inexpensive and readily available, but any saltwater fish, whether bought or caught, can score crabs. Just avoid thin-skinned fish like mackerel, as it softens quickly. Regardless of the bait, remember that every state has its own size limit and daily bag limit for blue crabs, so always check the regulations and make sure you’ve got a ruler.

FULL STEAM AHEAD

• A quick and dirty way to enjoy your blue crab bounty.

There are loads of recipes online for blue crabs, from soups to tacos to salads to crab cakes. But I would argue that the most traditional way to eat them is steamed. If you’re a crab-cooking rookie camped out at a rental house with the family, it’s hard to mess this method up. Like many things related to blue crabs, however, the nuances of steaming are hotly debated. This is how I’ve always done it, and nobody has ever complained about the results.

In a large pot, add a quarter cup of white vinegar and one and a half cans of beer. Dump a little Cajun seasoning in for good measure. As soon as you begin to see small curls of steam peeling off the liquid, add the crabs and shake in another healthy dose of the seasoning. Put the lid on and let them steam for approximately 15 minutes or until all the shells have turned red. Though some folks pull the shells off and remove gills and innards before cooking, I prefer to leave them on, as I believe the natural crab juices add more flavor to the meat.

After they cool off enough to handle, drain the pot, lay some newspaper on the table and dump out the crabs. Open some cold beers and start cracking, popping and picking. It’s messy and a lot of work, but some of my fondest childhood memories were made sitting around a pile of steamed crabs with my family, still blaming my cousin or dad or aunt for missing that really big one with the net.

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• This article was published in the May 2025 issue of Game & Fish magazine. Click to subscribe

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