Will The Real Captain Saleem Please Stand Up?

One of my favourite things to do in Karachi is what's known as "Crabbing." I think the reason I like it so much is that it feels like an authentically "Karachi" experience. There are plenty of other things you can do in Karachi that you can do in any other city in the world, but Karachi Crabbing is pretty much unique.

Generally, the process is quite simple. What you do is get a group of friends together and, after about two hours of calling people and rounding up punctuality challenged Pakistanis (PCP's), you pile into cars and drive down to the port. The section of the harbour where the crabbing boats are docked is fantastic. It's all stone masonry and it feels like you're stepping back in time without all that hassle with the flux capacitor. In fact, I saw a photo in a museum of the same area, circa 1918, and it looked exactly like it does now, albeit less polluted. As soon as you drive through the main gates, your car is accosted by a swarm of boat-wallas imploring you to trust in their services. They thrust themselves and their business cards against every available window in a scene reminiscent of one of those movies where all the zombies are trying to get into the log-cabin. But if you know your chops, than you've already called ahead to book a boat and can thus ignore all the crying, crabbing captains.

The term "Crabbing," as a verb, is a bit of a misnomer, as there is really no crabbing to be done. All you do is get on a cool old sail boat, make your way about five minutes out into the harbour, and then anchor there while the dudes cook you up a feast of crabs. It's basically just a floating restaurant. Apparently, back in the day, you used to go out and catch the crabs yourself to have them cooked. But those days are long gone, which is good, since I wouldn't touch any crab caught in that harbour without one of those chemical warfare suits. The water is so polluted that when one of the largest oil spills in the world occurred there a few years ago it didn't really do much damage. So yeah, you come for the food, but you stay for the ambience. And let me tell you, the food is good. You start off with an appetizer of fried crab cutlets and then move on to amazing spicey potatoes, and the crabs themselves in a delicious tomato massala. The big hit is always the "lollipops," which are the crab claws broken open so that the meat is there to be pulled out between the teeth, without all the hassle of shelling it first. It's instant gratification. So you're out and about in a boat with your closest pals, devouring a sumptuous feast... what could be better?

The undisputed master of the crabbing domain is a near mythical figure known as Captain Saleem. Just as Ahab dedicated his life to the great white whale, so too has Saleem dedicated himself to the Karachi crabbing consumer. Some time back, Captain Saleem developed the system described above that has become "crabbing." He made up business cards, ran a professional outfit, and gained a reputation as the best in the business. Being fairly business savvy themselves, the rest of the boatmen in the harbour immediately made business cards proclaiming themselves to be "Captain Saleem." To this day, if you shouted out "Captain Saleem!" at the port, more people would come running than if you shouted out "Free Big-Macs" at a Walmart in Michigan. To find the real Captain Saleem you just look at the cost, because he charges almost double what everyone else does. But I think it's worth it. The food just seems generally better, and you get the impression that his guys actually wash their hands now and then.

I think I can say without much hassle that I've gone crabbing more than the average foriegner. I think I've probably gone more than the average Karachiite, when it comes down to it. Last time out, Captain Saleem (or the man we presume to be Captain Saleem) gave me his business card and said "You sir, I think you are liking crabbing very much." I told him that yes, I enjoyed it very much and that he was the best. He says, "Yes, you have been coming on my boats for 9 times, and one other time on some other boat." Absolutely correct when I thought about it. He then complimented me on being Canadian (I think because he has to worry about hassles with the coastguard when he takes Americans out), and I thanked him and said that it was my pleasure to have been born there. I had to admit, The man knows his customer. Having managed restaurants for years, I was suitably impressed.

Somewhere, there exists a T-shirt that was printed years back that proclaims "I Caught Crabs in Karachi." I have yet to find one, but I must have it. Not only because of the obvious sexually transmitted humour, and my penchant for crabbing, but because it will go perfectly with my "1986: Year of the Clam" T-shirt.