Centolla, the red gold, is handled with utmost care by skilled fishermen, as its fragility can cause them to break and die, losing all their value. There is a deep respect for this crab that thrives only in the clean and cold waters near the poles, growing barely a centimeter per year (according to those who know about it), and I have seen some with shells exceeding 20. I imagine these little creatures on the muddy bottom of the Beagle Channel, sometimes at depths of over 150 meters, unaware of the different world above the water they will be dragged into, never to return unless they are females or males who have not yet reached maturity. But these last ones won't tell the others the fate of the trap I'm setting up, as I throw it into the sea once again to leave it at the bottom.
Today the channel was calm. A clear morning that allowed the sun to warm our hands and faces after many cold days. Not many centollas, at least in the first traps, and a minor setback repairing the lined pots that a sea lion broke in its eagerness to devour the bait. The last two lines, in deeper waters and less protected by the islets, saved our day and added a bit of excitement to the boat - the waters were quite lively out there...
