I’m on a lobster cruise in Shediac, New Brunswick. It’s a clear sunny day, the waters are calm, and the breeze whips through my hair as the captain steers the boat through the bay. There are 50 tourists on board, all eager to crack into something. The entire boat chants “Pull! Pull! Pull!” as a lobster trap is finally dragged up from the ocean. It lands on the deck with a clattering thud, a disappointing two lobsters in the green metal cage. When the second mate, Emery Léger, jokes that we’re going to have to share, I realize that these people (including myself) would actually scrap for a tail, or even just a claw.