Marine Invasion

I really don't expect visitors on board my sailboat that are large enough to do anything more than put webs everywhere. Sadly, I expect regiments of spiders as history shows I will have them, expected or not. My pride and joy hosts large groups of brown spiders who squirt greenish brown goo when squashed. Occasionally I have big black widows owning the bow around the anchor windless. When sleeping aboard in the roomy V-berth, I can't help but worry some vengeful black widow will climb down the anchor chain, slip into the berth from the chain locker and bite my toes.

Legacy of my parents playing "Welcome to My Nightmare" a lot when I was young I suppose.

I've been thinking about some Rid-Ex modules but have concerns about the boat's electrical system. I hear tell that spiders are not a problem on the Bay itself, where things are generally colder. Maybe someday...

Every spring, some kind of sparrow or other comes in flocks to nest and have baby birds at my marina. I hang old Symantec and Solaris CD's from my boom and lifelines to try and scare off the birds. They say the moving flashing things keep birds at bay. Unfortunately, in an outdoor environment, things don't last. Remember this as you will see this material again.

I came aboard Sunday night on a cool evening after a friendly BBQ at a friend's house. The day had been hot so the clean cool air was as welcome as it was surprising. In the dark, my boat is long, lean, and sharp; Her defects hidden in the moonlight. She accepts my "Bad Art" with surprising grace. There in the quiet, I have time to think about all things that matter. No computers making noise and owning me with an endless stream of distractions. No TV. Nothing but my piece of freedom and the night. Oh, and my failings as a master. I try not to dwell on that too much, but sometimes I stay away because of it. However avoiding the truth, no matter the pleasantness or lack thereof, never helps much of anything, and in some cases causes problems.

I am aboard and descending the dark companionway ladder. The electrical system works and thus I have lights. Soon I note some things seem to be disturbed and out of place. I'm immediately worried I've had an intruder. I check the hatches but they are tightly secured. Strange. Nothing seems to be missing, but my hatch screen is partially un-fastened. Some things have been partially pulled out of a compartment that is normally closed but is not. I felt sure the secondary access port to the engine compartment was closed when last I was aboard...

I spend a bit of time servicing a couple of items and depart, full of resolve to return the next day and get more work done and I kept my promise. The next afternoon is cooler than I would have expected, which is to say the temp is in the high 70's or maybe low 80's. The pressure washer comes out, as the night no longer hides the dirt clinging to her. Some of the varnish has held up well and some has not. Brushes, turpentine, and other messy things are in my future.

After a decent wash-down, I descend into her and pull open the engine compartment and stare in wonder at the cleaning supplies that have spilled over from under the galley sink. This has never happened before. Winds blow that badly thought I? Then, open the galley storage under the sink and find my little straw wisk broom, utterly destroyed. Pulled apart and laying everywhere.

I have a critter, there is no doubt.

My mind is spinning with questions about how a critter gained access to the interior of my boat in the first place. There seems no way for such a thing to happen. And yet... yes... I storm aft to the cockpit and stare down at the place where engine controls might be located. The piece of wood that covers that place has rotted out and the access lays open to the world. Ah. Remember what I said before? Things don't last forever when left to nature. Anyway, it's incredible how clever natures critters can be. It got in and navigated the labyrinth of the engineering compartments and found a way into the human areas of my boat. There it found cardboard to tear up and carry off. (as I now find) It found the broom under the sink. It tried to get out via the top hatch and managed to nearly open the screen.

A bird then. No rat or mouse could reach the overhead.

The brains of living creatures are truly amazing. It appears my visitor carried off large amounts of cardboard and straw for it's nest somewhere. This required many trips aboard. NASA engineers would have a hell of a job creating and programming a robot that could navigate that route once, let alone over and over again and they certainly would have to spend enough money to construct a much simpler to navigate boat instead.

-Corwin