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