The Chronicles of Decapod Homarus

by James Wood

Wolum Keeh, hommard, lobster. Whatever you call the little pinchers, they're an essential economic resource in Southwest Nova Scotia. During lobster season, fishermen brave the Atlantic to plunk their traps into the deep, retrieving them days later to land their catches. In 2006, the lobster fishery accounted for $390 million in provincial exports, and this has one critter very angry. Speaking on behalf of his species, Decapod Homarus, allegedly the world's oldest lobster, broke crustacean silence and granted James Wood an exclusive interview.

James Wood: Thanks for meeting with me, Decapod.

Decapod Homarus: My pleasure, James.

JW: First, could you briefly introduce yourself?

DH: I'm a bottom crawler who enjoys burrowing, hiding from predators, and eating most anything.

JW: Scientists believe a lobster's lifespan caps at 100 years, but you maintain you're 700. Can you prove this?

DH: My life is proof, James. In the 1300s, shortly after moulting my second shell, the current swept me ashore. I trudged through the sand, struggling to keep my gills wet. An adolescent Mi'gmaq picked me up. I saw many of my cousins being gathered for food. The Natives also used us to treat the soil. I narrowly escaped that time.

JW: Fascinating.

DH: In 1512, as I loitered in shallow waters off Gespogwitg, everything suddenly darkened. It seems the humans had covered the water with an oily substance. Cod heads sank to the bottom, and some of my brothers pursued them. I might have shared in the meal, but I had an odd premonition. Spears then pierced the water and impaled my friends, plucking them from the dip. A suitable fate for lowly fin flappers, but too cruel for the proud lobster!

JW: Were lobsters really that abundant back then?

DH: Yes! In 1597, after I relocated to the New World, I was dining on starfish niblets when a dragnet ensnared me along with dozens more. Catching lobsters was effortless at that time. Fortunately, I was an expert slicer and clawed my way to freedom.

JW: Then what happened?

DH: I moved to L'Acadie. Imagine my surprise when those pesky Europeans adapted their pot traps to catch American lobsters. To this day, they bait those wire cages to lure us in. I hightailed it to Nova Scotia, but they had them here too.

JW: Actually, Decapod, those are the same place.

DH: Pardon?

JW: Gespogwitg, L'Acadie, Nova Scotia. They all signify the same land.

DH: Why did they keep renaming it?

JW: Umm, it's a long story. Please continue.

DH: Strange things began happening. In the 1800s humans were increasingly efficient at hunting us, but there were down times.

JW: Yes, in the 1840s we began canning lobster for commerce. In 1871 the Canadian government regulated the fishery to preserve stocks. Fishing was restricted to certain months and quotas were imposed.

DH: I'm against lobster consumption, but it's flattering you appreciated us.

JW: Well, lobster was considered a poor man's food before World War II. Wealthy children would bring balony sandwiches to school, whereas the working class would eat lobster sandwiches. Lobster was also fed to prisoners, pets, and even used as bait.

DH: But you were so aggressive in catching us! We noticed those motorized engines in the 1920s, how you'd fish farther offshore. Certain species of undersea fauna even heard some of the depth sounding devices you developed in the 70s.

JW: Not to mention our Global Positioning Systems and telecommunications equipment. But Decapod, if you were wise to all these inventions, how were you finally captured?

DH: I fell in love.

JW: I'm afraid I don't understand.

DH: I chased some unfertilized tail into a cage. She was a real hot tomalley. The calcium glow in her shell was to die for. I coaxed myself silently for a few moments, gyrated the ole antennules and muttered, "My what a proportionally wide, egg-bearing abdomen you have." After being turned down, I realized where she had led us. Tell me, James, how have humans remained at the top of the food chain?

JW: That's a very loaded question, but I'm sure it has something to do with not telling our females how wide they appear. Thanks for your time, Decapod