Arnold II

This is Arnold II.

RIP Arnold II.

I’m getting the hang of this now – although I can’t really take the credit. That must go to Niko Bolas who sent me two electronic mouse traps.

Absurdly, I was a bit miffed when they arrived because the parcel I really wanted (the one with the dinghy patches and windlass foot switches) has been delayed for another week.

But getting back from a couple of nights away in Cartagena and finding the carrot I left in the trap was still there (albeit somewhat desiccated from 39°C and all the hatches closed), I assumed that meant No More Rats.

Then, that first evening, sitting over a cup of coffee, a glass of Aruban rum and the Kindle after dinner, I was sure I heard a familiar scratching from behind the bookcase.

The sound that was unmistakable. It has haunted my evenings for the past month – and I never did work out how Arnold knew it was after dinner and I was sitting comfortably and this was the perfect moment to shake me out of my complacency with a little gnawing.

But since Arnold is no more, this must be his friend (or widow? Maybe a dozen fatherless children…)

Suddenly, the package with the electronic traps seemed very welcome indeed.

I couldn’t try them immediately because it turns out that having everything on the boat rechargeable does terrible things to the AA battery supply: Every single one of them was flat and most of them, thoroughly rusty.

Feeling cheated, I set the old-fashioned traps (and of course, in the morning, found them licked clean of peanut butter and no dead rat.)

Never mind, the next day, just as Niko had promised, the electronic variety worked first time. This really is an innovation. If you have unwanted guests, I really do recommend it.

I never knew these things existed: Essentially, an electronic trap is an oblong box, open at one end and with holes in the other so you can poke the bait inside and the smell of it can get out.

Once the bait is in place (and not before), in go the batteries and switch on.

I wasn’t quite sure what I was expecting but I woke as usual before dawn – once again disappointed that this was not to the sound of the big and terrifying rat trap snapping shut. But something was different…

Somewhere there was a green light flashing. Anyone who has had a bit of practice at sleeping on boats is always amazed at how many LED lights there are in cabins nowadays, but this was a flashing green one and Samsara doesn’t usually sport one of those. Somewhere in the subconscious, there floated a phrase from the instructions: “Flashing green: Rodent caught”.

And sure enough, so he was – stone cold dead (and with a slightly surprised look on his face.)

Arnold II turned out to be smaller than Arnold I (and most definitely male, I was pleased to see.)

In lieu of burial at sea – which did not seem very nice in the marina – I recycled him with the dozen or so starving cats living in the little wooden hut which is the marina rubbish dump.

I have no qualms about this, having long ago abandoned any attempt at a humane end for the surplus crew. Apart from anything else, I discover that not only did they chew through the plastic top of the peanut butter jar as well as a bottle of iced tea. Also, for some reason, they made a hole in a perfectly good and completely empty Tupperware. Honestly, what was the point in that? I thought they were supposed to be demonstrating their intelligence. On top of everything else,  look what they did to the panelling above my bunk. This was their front door to the nest behind the bookcase. I’m sure they could have used one of the many holes left behind by superseded electronics and defunct wiring. Did they really need to eat the boat?

Well, next time, it’s going to be a different story (and a shorter one).

The front door

7 Responses to Arnold II

  • What a really interesting report!! I’m having rat problems in my house at the moment.
    It sounds to be a really good piece of kit you have there. Can you let me know what make it is?, Many thanks Andy Woods

  • Have you worked out where and how the Arnolds got on board John? One rat is unfortunate, but two begin to smack either of impressive and disturbing intent, or negligence on the part of the watch leader! I do hope Mrs Arnold is not incubating in some dark crevice and preparing to unleash a plague on Samsara in revenge for your dasterdly deeds!

    Merry Christmas by the way!

    Tom

  • Hello! Could you please give more information about the effective model trap and where to get it? Thanks and good winds.

  • Glad you have caught Arnold II, I heard recently that rodents are intelligent. Just like a car thief will park up and keep observation to see if car is fitted with a tracker, a rodent will keep observation on a trap. If it has been touched or changed they leave well into alone. Best to bait up and leave it. Love your stories.

  • There is no good rat on a boat.
    There is no good mouse on a boat.
    There is no good cockroach on a boat.
    There is no good ant on a boat.

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No news is good news

I posted this on Facebook a few days ago. But now I come to think of it, maybe it should be here…
Waking up to find Bashir Assad, the ghastly dictator of Syria had been deposed – at least I think he’s been deposed – it took a superhuman effort not to click on a news website and find out.
If I do that, I know I will be lost for an hour or more, looking at opinions, seeing what the pundits surmise will happen next, trying to find out about the leaders of the counter-revolution (although I’m not sure how long a revolution has to survive before a counter-revolution becomes an actual revolution…)
Anyway, I didn’t. After the American election, I swore I was not going to pay any attention to the news anymore. I deleted all my news apps, stopped following sources of news on Facebook, cancelled subscriptions – I became, if you like a hermit, here on my little boat in Colombia.
I was doing what I spent five years advising other people to do when I was supposed to be training them to run a part-time business: “Stop watching television,” I would tell them.
“Start with the news. The news sucks all the optimism out of you. If some princess somewhere gets killed in a car crash, don’t worry. You’ll get to hear about it somehow.”
This time it was Facebook – somebody saying: “I’m not a Syrian refugee anymore. I’m a Syrian!”
Of course, I desperately wanted answers. But on the other hand, I’ve now had a whole month without news and I know I’ll survive.
In fact, since a month is a reasonable milestone for taking stock, I think I can say that life is a whole lot better without the constant drip feed of mayhem and hopelessness. It can’t be good for me to be stressing and worrying over terrible things that are bound to happen and over which I have absolutely no control (I won’t itemise them, it’s too depressing. Anyway, I’m sure you have your own list.)
As for the time it took! Doomscrolling, they call it – a good word: To remain hunched over a screen in an attitude of dejection with a head full of misery…
Instead of which, here’s what I’ve been doing these last four weeks: I’ve been reading twice as many novels as usual, completed a sixth read-through of my own new book (and still found stuff that needed changing). I’ve redoubled my efforts to learn Spanish – to the extent that last night I was actually surprised when the online tutor said we had reached the end of the session. She said I had done really well. They always say that, but this time I believed her…
I have de-scaled the engine, been up the mast (twice), measured the awning (which still doesn’t fit) and repositioned the grey water outlet filter at three o’clock in the morning for reasons too boring to explain.
And that is all in between endless trips to the supermarket to fill the bilges with beer and iced tea ready for two months in the San Blas Islands which are described as “a remote paradise” (meaning they don’t have beer and iced tea.)
These are the important things in life at 38°C and 65% humidity.
So, good luck to the people of Syria and good luck to America, but I’ve got my own life to live – and, as I have a habit of reminding myself, I’m having The Time of My Life.

12 Responses to No news is good news

  • TRINITY III came with a tv but we rarely turn it on. For information internet is best and what I really need to find out is how to do boat jobs, and sail! I think your stories are great, was tickled to see SAMSARA in Spanish Waters when we were anchored there, and seem to be following you since we’re now in Aruba and heading to San Blas via Columbia also. Will try to bring beer, in case we catch up!

    • Yes, look forward to the beer and meeting you. I’m still in the Santa Marta Columbia getting Boat jobs done (be warned the concept of Mañana takes on whole new meaning here.) Heading for the San Blas soon – but it will be a miracle if we meet up, given that there are said to be 365 islands!

  • John that’s the best advice I have read in a long time, and will be a New Year resolution.
    Best wishes to you for Christmas and the New Year. Keep the Blogs coming…

  • Very good John!
    Keep sailing and Ignore the news-sites and papers is the best way to survive in this crazy world

  • Well done John. Thanks for keeping us posted and have a really great Christmas. Thanks and Merry Christmas to you

  • John, you’re an inspiration. And it is affirming to know you did exactly what I did after the election. Thankyou

  • Really need to do the same checking endless news sites with the same stories. Would leave more time to scroll the sports sites ha!

  • Great post! Couldn’t agree with you more regarding TV and news. Fantastic that you’re living your best life. Keep it up.

  • It’s good to give up doom-scrolling and even better tv. I gave up 11 years ago and have never looked back.
    The last story about the rat was highly amusing, poor little bugger!
    Have a wonderful Christmas old man – from another old man who too is having the time of his life.

  • Well one news source that is uplifting – and I’ve ensured my Kidds get it – is Fix the News https://fixthenews.com which sends out amazing good news stories that the mainstream does not cover. Highly recommended as an antidote if you do fall back into the bad news vortex!

  • Great advice! I always feel revitalised after a sailing trip, partly because of the complete isolation from the normal stresses of life. Somehow I survive without my digital injections. That is living your life properly.

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Gotcha!!!

RIP Arnold

Actually, Arnold was a rat – rats have hairless tails. It was the fact that his was brown not pink that confused me. A noble adversary…

It’s over. After two weeks, five mouse traps, one packet of rat poison, ten helpful suggestions and about a quarter of a jar of peanut butter, Arnold is dead.

And I feel awful about it.

As a vegetarian sailing a boat with a Buddhist name, we should have done better. But this is Colombia and, as I mentioned last time, the concept of a humane mousetrap simply does not translate into Latino Spanish.

Consequently, night after night, I would fall asleep listening to him behind the panelling, gnawing – and rose the next morning to find all the traps licked so clean they might have been through a dishwasher.

Admittedly, Arnold did nearly come to a sticky end (literally) after I took a taxi to HomeCenter – a superstore the size of one of South America’s smaller countries to buy a pair of sticky traps. The idea behind these is that the mouse puts his foot in the goo and can’t get it out. They hadn’t tried it on Arnold, though. He did put his foot in the goo – but then dragged the trap all over the fo’c’sle covering everything else in goo, before finally shaking it off in a Sainsbury’s bag-for-life (which now has a much shorter life). Anyway, he bolted.

Next, I mashed up a sort of Rouillard of rat poison and peanut butter, reasoning that he would be so busy licking it off and feeling smug that he would never realise he was eating the condemned mouse’s last meal.

I don’t know how he did it, but the entire dessert disappeared and Arnold did not. I can only think he spat out the blue bits and ate the brown. Anyway, as a savoury, he chewed the top off my clarinet reed. It was a Vandoren and I take it as a personal affront. Arnold was toying with me.

He made me feel like the put-upon Commandant in The Great Escape when Steve McQueen grins at him on the way to the cooler and says: “You’ll still be here when I get out?”

It’s my own fault. I underestimated him from the start. Because he joined in Aruba, I presumed he had jumped off one of the enormous cruise ships and would be easy prey. He had probably lived his life on smoked salmon and truffles.

Well, now the gloves were off. For one thing, I was being goaded by Niko Bolas, a regular on the blog who announced he was sending me two electronic devices. I looked them up. They made my hair stand on end. Any mouse putting a foot inside would get zapped with the full force of six AA batteries. But the Amazon delivery won’t get here until December 12th.

It was time to man up. I spent a day in the Public Market – Santa Marta’s version of Camden with stalls selling everything including, tucked away behind the grilled sausages and the pineapples, mouse-sized mousetraps: Maybe Arnold wasn’t ready for the rat-sized one yet (although, the rate he was getting through peanut butter, it wouldn’t be long.).

I filed down the bars that spring the traps to make the mechanism more sensitive – a sort of hair-trigger, if you like. Now I felt like Edward Fox in The Day of The Jackal – a cold, calculating professional.

And, sure enough, on the second morning, there he was, hanging off the side of the navigator’s seat, his neck squished under the big trap’s mega-spring, his naughty little nose in a pool of blood. Of course, he’d polished off the other traps first.

6 Responses to Gotcha!!!

  • very sorry to hear of arnold’s demise – pls excuse 1 left finger tryrping, broken wrist – but on a boat as sparks would sing ‘ this place ain’t big enough for both of us ‘…

  • Very entertaining tail…My late hubby and I also had one such damn determined demon devil. I think it must’ve been a distant cousin of Arnold’s! Glad you got ‘im in the end. Wishing you a further rat-free Christmas and here’s to more Happy Sailing, John Yours Jane Hostler

  • a merciful quick end to what could’ve been a human disaster! I had rodents eat through a fuel line which was after the pump and it started spraying all over the engine compartment. Well done. RIP Arnold.

  • Brilliant. I have the same problem in the engine compartment of my car. Mice seem to like all the insulation in there. Not anymore they have found the quickest route to mousey heaven.

  • Shall I cancel the Milan antitank then?

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