Catch Dinner with Charleston’s Conscientious Crabber
With a net and a piece of raw chicken, Tia Clark — a Lowcountry local and Airbnb Experience host — builds awareness for regional seafood.
Photographs by Cole Wilson
The blue crab tattooed on Tia Clark’s left calf is more than just a work of art. It’s drawn to scale — exactly 5 inches from claw to claw — to remind her of the legal keeping size for the crustaceans. If Clark’s catch is smaller than her tattoo, back it goes into the Ashley River.
Blue crabs are to Charleston, South Carolina, what lobsters are to Boston or crawfish to New Orleans. Their scientific name, Callinectes sapidus, means “beautiful, savory swimmer,” and they paddle through the Lowcountry’s tidal inlets and marshes with aplomb.
Clark, 39, is a bar manager and an unlikely champion for blue crabs. What started out as her personal hobby transformed into a cult following among locals and vacationers. Now she can hardly keep up with the demand of people eager to learn from her. “Crabbing changed my life, and it’s blown me away with what I’ve done by teaching it to other people,” she said.
Born and raised in Charleston, Clark spent Sunday dinners at her grandmother’s house, picking meat from blue crabs on the back porch. She did it so often that it became second nature. “People say it’s a lot of work for a little bit of food. But really it’s about the company that you have around the table.”
Little did she know the sea creatures would play a role in helping her kick an actual habit. A smoker for 20 years, she quit cold turkey and needed something to take her mind off cigarettes. When a cousin offered to take her crabbing, Clark jumped at the opportunity. Soon she was hooked. “It was my new smoking. I honestly think it’s one of the purest, most positive things that I’ve ever experienced in my life.”
Work at the bar didn’t start until 8 p.m., so Clark went crabbing during the day and posted about it on social media. As her “Casual Crabbing with Tia” Facebook page filled up with photos of her expeditions (#callinectessapidus), people started paying attention. A regular customer at the bar suggested she offer to take people with her. “I was really shocked and thought, ‘Why would anyone want to go crabbing with me?’” she said.
Her first guests came from Port Royal, two hours away. She was nervous. “You can’t just go out to the water and expect to catch blue crabs. You have to study them. When you can find them depends on the weather and the tides.”
She set up “a playground” on the dock: hand lines with raw chicken bait tied to the end, fishing rods, pole nets, and casting nets. Clark found teaching natural. She started to offer a crabbing experience on Airbnb in the spring of 2018. By summer she was booking two sessions a day.
Crabbers of all ages and skill levels join Clark on the water. Beginners start with weighted baskets, and more advanced guests work their way up to throwing the cast net. She teaches people how to hold a blue crab — by the claws or the “swimmers” in the back — to avoid getting pinched. Her biggest thrill comes from witnessing the wonder of first-timers: “They get that first crab up, and it’s like they’re being shot with adrenaline. Somebody goes, ‘Oh, man, look at that!’ and they’re yelling and celebrating out on the dock. Seeing adults let their guard down like that gets me giddy.”
One of those first-timers is George Jacobs, an aviation assembler for Boeing and patron of the Mill, a bar where Clark used to work. He took his wife on Clark’s experience for a birthday celebration. “As soon as we got home, my wife goes out and buys all the crabbing gear.”
Clark’s wife, Katie, is also among the converted. “I used to fish with my dad as a kid, and I hated it,” she said. “It was just boring to me. When I finally went with Tia, I was obsessed.”
While showing people how to bring in their own haul, Clark is also building awareness and support for the blue crabs. When she went to get her business license, the people in the office told her they hadn’t seen anything like it in 30 years. She’s found a niche between the commercial crabbing industry and occasional hobbyists. “I’m bringing attention to the blue crab so we can create environments for it to thrive,” she said.
Every guest has to get a saltwater license to go crabbing with Clark, which generates revenue for the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources. “There’s nothing around here really similar to what she’s doing. People go crabbing, but they never really thought about doing it at her level,” Jacobs said. “Her knowledge of the waters and being a local really make it special.”
Clark only wishes she’d started crabbing earlier in life. Where she grew up in downtown Charleston, it wasn’t common to go to the beach. She drove over the Cosgrove Bridge all the time without ever really thinking about the ecosystem below. Now she wants to show kids from her neighborhood that “with this really cheap net you can go to this body of water, hang out in a beautiful setting, and maybe catch dinner for your family.”
Last summer a woman took her 10-year-old daughter crabbing with Clark. At the end, the girl said, “I just wish my best friend was here, too.” The mom bought casting nets for them, and their families now regularly send Clark pictures of dinners the girls provide.
About the author: Marguerite McNeal Carter is a writer and editor based in San Francisco. Her work has appeared in EdSurge, Wired, and Marketing News. She’s currently a creative at Airbnb.
