Fruits de Sprong

Crabs!

Before Delaware, we did not know what a "sprong" was. We were just told we would be staying in Uncle Bill's cottage located on one. We knew that boats go in it and crabs come out of it. We debated whether it was a new kind of body of water that we had never before experienced or a local Delaware colloquialism for something with which we were already familiar (bay, river, inlet, etc.). We finally settled on it being local, Dela-speak for "prong," as in the branch of a river. We liked our new word. It was satisfying to say.

Sprong?

Sadly, the word only existed in a fleeting period of accidental mispronounciation.  It turns out, there is no such thing as "sprong."  The cottage was actually set on a "prong," a thin body of water stretching inland from Rehoboth Bay.  It was a nice little prong, with ospreys (we think) soaring above and rabbits hopping on the banks, but definitely not a sprong. 

We were told that crabs live there, somewhere in the depths, and there were crab pots in the garage of the cottage.  As we were short on time, we decided to let professionals do the catching and cooking, which is how we ended up here. 

That's Dick on the left, with the eye patch and pipe

The place was chock full of of kitsch, americana, and all the colorful, full-blown innuendo you would expect from a place called "Crabby Dick's."  That evening, we drank Yuenglings and hammered away, with our small wooden mallets, at a dozen and a half blue crabs piled on brown paper.  They were delicious, whichever sprong they sprung from.