If you have actually ever been food shopping while starving, you’ll understand that an empty stubborn belly can cloud your judgement.
For the majority of us, an innocent journey to the shops to grab some basics has at least when ended in some doubtful options– fast-food binges, servo pies, buying a chain restaurant.
And so it was as day six rolled around on my self-imposed month of living without stores, that I found myself desperately hungry, shoulder deep in a mud crab hole, risking completely excellent fingers for a feed of crab.
Packing …
A complete amateur flailing on the shores of self-sufficiency, I ‘d currently eaten my method through the selection of mangrove snails, pipis and mullet that I ‘d gathered days previously on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast with Kerry Neal.
The upside of my poor rationing, was that I ‘d also dropped around 4 kgs.
While providing me a crash course in bush-food recognition, Gubbi guy Kerry had actually likewise revealed me a method for extracting mud crabs from their holes using just one’s bare hands.
Well he ‘d taught me the theory. Due to bad weather and high tides, we ‘d stopped working to locate any crabs and I ‘d returned from the Sunshine Coast to Brisbane a bit dissatisfied, however with all my fingers still connected.
It was five days later on, as I drove to a mangrove-fringed estuary south of Brisbane to try mud crab hunting once again, this time on my own.
For lunch I ‘d had 4 bunya nuts.
” I’m definitely shitting myself, just for the record,” I told my camera, as I put down in the mud and plunged my hand and arm into a murky hole amongst the mangrove roots and sand flies.
I ‘d established that there was a crab in your home after it got and mashed completion of an explora