Some Navy friends of mine were stationed at Gitmo when they decided to cook a coconut crab. They’re delicious, I hear.
I’d try it. When the blue land crabs were breeding in Florida, they’d be pretty think in places. I remember a little old Cuban lady that was trying to negotiate over and around some rocks to get to a big one. She had a stick with a nail through the end, and she’d hook the crabs, and drop them in a bucket. Some younger white chick saw her predicament, and took her stick. She wailed on that crab with it, and when the little old lady caught up to her she looked at the crab and said “Muy mal,” and took her stick back.