Noodling for snappers ain’t for the squeamish (video of brave noodlers included)

According to Earl Shelsby, the hardest part of making turtle soup is cleaning the turtles.

“You start by chopping off the turtle’s head,” Shelsby said with a warning. “Be careful because the head will still bite even after it is removed from the body. And the body will still crawl away after the head is removed. Turtles don’t die right away.”

Obviously, preparing authentic turtle soup is not for the faint of heart. It’s even more challenging when a person tries catching a snapping turtle, or snapper for said soup.

Shelsby learned how to make wild turtle soup from his German immigrant grandparents. They caught turtles by hand; a method — noodling is what some call it — that still survives in Dubois County today.

Veteran Noodler, Butch Denu, of Crystal, says the rare turtles will soon be travelling pond to pond and into area creeks to mate. “You gotta find the right creeks, where there’s brush and root wads, tree stumps, anywhere they can get in and hide,” Denu says. “If you can find a sewer creek, the dirtier the water the more turtles like it.”

Denu says he’s past his prime for noodling. He now uses self-made traps to catch the turtles. Before preparing turtles to eat, he recommends cleaning the turtles out with water for up to seven days, changing the water every couple of days to clear out waste and impurities.

Tall tales are spun about the greats of turtle noodling. Those that do it argue it’s the best way to catch the sneaky turtles. Another long-time turtle catcher Artie McBride, of Cuzco, likes to show his battle scars on his hands from noodling. He even claims one Dubois resident lost part of his finger fishing for the dinosaur-like turtles.

Turtle hunters start young, learning from the veterans. Dubois natives, Michael Linne and his brother Zac started hunting for turtles with their dad in their early teens. They really enjoy catching snapping turtles by hand but say it’s not for everyone. “It is something that takes a certain person,” Michael says. “A lot of people get scared of the snakes, beavers, muskrats, and the turtles themselves. Everything down there bites, so you have to be somewhat careful.”

The hunters traipse to a slow-moving, muddy creek to play hide-and-seek with the turtles. The elusive creatures seek refuge in thick drifts and brush and hunters have to use blind touch to find them.

Michael explained how to catch a turtle, “You stick your hand in under the banks and stumps, feeling for the shell of a turtle. After you find the turtle shell, then you feel for its tail. Once you locate the tail, you pull the turtle from the bank or creek bed. After you get the turtle out, you put it in a sack, and go on to the next spot.”

The turtle’s characteristic long tail makes it easy to grab, but it’s not necessarily safe. Snappers can stretch their necks back across their shell and to their hind feet on either side to bite. Also, their claws are sharp and capable of cutting through human skin.

The Linne brothers say learning the noodling trade came easily from seasoned veterans. Their dad and uncles also went turtle-noodling together with their father. One of the uncles, Rick Linne, says he’s been on successful turtle hunting trips where he and ten other men bagged over a hundred turtles. Ricks successes come with a few battle scars. One is on his back where a turtle snapped him when he threw a bag of recently caught monsters over his shoulder.

“You feel around to see if you can feel the backs of the turtles. When you feel the notches, you find your way down to the tail and grab it to pull the turtle out,” Rick says. “I’ve been snapped at under root wads but never bit on the hand.”

Rick says although he still knows how to find them in a drift, where a tree crosses the creek, these days he prefers the less dangerous method of trapping. Yet, the noodling tradition still continues with the next generations. It even seems to be a rite of passage for the family, as experts pass the tradition on from one generation to the next. Rick’s nephew, Zac, recently posted a brag comment on his Facebook page about passing on the tradition. “Just taught my little cousin how to drive a six speed and how to grab a snapping turtle,” Zac blogged. “He was afraid.”

A bunch of men meet at Kelley’s bar in Dubois. An employee there, Gwen Ward, complains they never bring her back any turtle. “I love turtle. It’s best fried,” Ward says. “I like it in soup, but only if it’s made right. Some people don’t know how to make it. Seasoning is important. Spicy but not so spicy you can’t eat it.”

Ward says her mother didn’t make it spicy and her father insisted on using 100% wild turtle in the soup; no “mock” meats added.

Turtle soup represents a frugal and coexistent way of life, especially for German immigrants to Dubois County. Nothing was wasted and all seven types of meats of the turtle went into large bathes of the soup. It still gets cooked in the community every year, sometimes with real wild-caught turtle, but more often of the mock variety.

Here is a video snippet from Indiana Outdoor Adventures. The entire show can be seen here.