I am not alone. I sat down at my desk in our aft cabin intending to write on another topic altogether when I spotted a tiny figure peeking out at from the bookshelf. There is a small, speckled gecko who stopped, mid-movement, as soon as he realised there was a human sharing his space.
He is one of many little crewmates that we’ve unwittingly hosted onboard. Our very first batch of geckos arrived when we were sailing in Panama, and we rejoiced when we caught a glimpse of the odd one darting out to attack a mosquito. The mosquitos, also uninvited, are less-welcome additions. Their presence fluctuates according to whether we’re tied to a marina, or anchored too close to mangroves. Portlight screens and nets all help but a friendly critter, snapping them up with lightning quick reflexes, is a much more satisfying solution.
Wasps and hornets would also like to holiday with us. These insects are a more daunting prospect than their cousins in the UK, being much larger with extended mid-sections and longer, dangling legs. Many times we’ve had a glorious sail rudely interrupted by one of these giant buzzing beasties flying into my face at the helm. They are exceedingly curious and persist on flying in to explore the cabins below-deck, unfazed by the squeals of our children or our futile attempts at coaxing them out. Even worse are the potter wasps, that choose bizarre spots to try and build their muddy, clay nests while we’re out provisioning; on the binnacle ipad mount, the inside of the hatch surround, or fastened to a fishing rod holder. I promptly and unceremoniously knock them off immediately – no hitchhikers allowed!
At one anchorage, in southern Mexico, we left the boat for a few days while we travelled to attend a friend’s wedding. Once back we checked around the boat and found, with dismay, that a swallow had built a nest in our mainsail stackpack. This teeny structure had a clutch of four precious eggs inside and the mama bird was nowhere to be found. After waiting a day or two we sadly realised that we had to jettison it overboard – a fact made more traumatic by my fitful hormones as we were expecting our first child at the time. We raised anchor, and hoisted the sail, glancing forlornly back at the last fragments of the nest, bobbing on the water.
Fellow sailors who took in the Galapagos islands en route to French Polynesia all shared stories of the local sealions eagerly heaving their way on board. Every foray ashore or snorkelling outing would end in a return to their boats to find several stout sealions squatting happily in their newfound territory. Catamarans tended to be the worst afflicted by these large invaders as the swim steps on them made for easy access.
Our friends who are sailing in Cape Town have a similar sailing with animals problem with the resident fur seals. They already have an animal crew member, their ginger cat “Boots”, who was not at all keen on these impromptu interlopers, nor the distinctive stench they left in their wake. And, though their cat was unable to dislodge the seals, he had proved his worth on board many times over by catching countless mice, cockroaches and even flying fish (although the keen observer might note that they simply landed on deck by mistake).
We too have had several cats on our yacht unofficially. While in Malaysia there were a number of marina cats who sauntered down the wooden docks and nonchalantly hopped up to lounge in the sun on the aft deck as if they owned the place. These freeloaders were harder to shift than some as our kids would swoon and coo over their new crewmates, petting them lovingly while I was trying to shoo them off.
And then there are the marine lodgers, whose presence we are almost entirely unaware of until we try to clean the hull. There have been a series of large, grumpy and very territorial crabs that like to inhabit the large rectangular vent from our LPG locker, or fiercely guard the stainless-steel stock, where the skeg meets the rudder. When we dive down to scrub the hull they swim out and waggle their claws at us in fury for disturbing their piece and decimating their garden. Sorry crabs, but we need the extra knot of speed!
A small flurry of movement catches my eye as I look up from the keys. My little gecko friend has shifted and is gulping heavily and blinking. It’s nice to have company when I write sometimes, even if it is to the sound of bug swallowing.
The post Finding Uninvited Guests Onboard: Sailing with Animals appeared first on Sailing Today.
