An uninvited guest. (Paxos)
27 June 2021
For those of you possibly unfamiliar with sleeping on a boat, generally, in calm weather it’s quite a pleasant experience. There's the sound of gently lapping water against the hull, you’re in your own safe little cocoon. The light to and fro rocking takes you back to being a baby, lovingly comforted in your cot. As I say; generally quite pleasant.
The second night at ‘Too Rocky Bay’ was not one of those nights.
The uninterrupted swell coming across from Italy and the matched gentle breeze from the West parted company in the night, and the boats in the bay turned side on to the swell.
We’d gone to bed with a manageable amount of roll - enough that we were both able to sleep initially. As the night continued, and the wind shifted the boat began rocking wildly, with the mast keeping time like a metronome back and forth over and over, rattling cupboards and throwing anything inadvertently left out onto the floor to roll around. Not sure why, but these sessions of wild rocking were interspersed with spells of calm. These lulls lasted just long enough to allow us to think ‘Ahh... glad that’s over’, and nearly drop back off to sleep, only for some unseen hand to then violently start the metronome again.
Next morning, both lacking any decent sleep, we agreed that something really did need to be done.
Chez - who loves a bit of research, spent the morning Googling various setups to counter a side-on swell. After some discussion we opted to add a second anchor (a Kedge apparently) to the stern to hold us bow-on to the expected direction of the swell.
There’s a German couple in a catamaran next to us. I row over to explain what we’re going to be doing in case they become worried by our strange behaviour. Incidentally the guy plays the saxophone beautifully, and had provided a soft medley of tunes throughout the afternoon. So, neighbours advised and looking on, Chez feeds me rope as I row the anchor and chain out in the tender and drop about 20m off our stern. We winched the other end of the rope in,
so that both the bow and stern anchors were well set.
Long story short: it worked a treat, that evening and the following morning as the other monohull inhabitants of the bay rocked wildly back and forth, we sedately bobbed around, and felt thoroughly smug. The only downside was that as the wind shifted, the German’s catamaran was spun around and came a little too close - not quite ‘get your fenders out’ close, but enough that I was glad I’d been over to see them beforehand.
After spending a couple of days snorkeling, combing the few local beaches and generally lazing around, we left Two Rock Bay and headed over on a short hop to AntiPaxos.
Spent an uneventful evening tied back on that small pretty island. Having been woken by the sound of an anchor chain being dropped too close by a Czech charter boat at dawn the next day, we wasted no time and headed off to the larger island of Paxos. I discovered on the way the generator had stopped working.
After we’d tied back, and eventually fixed the generator (fuel line blockage), I was able to fully appreciate our surroundings.
I’ve got lots of lovely things to say about Paxos, the pastel coloured faded shuttered buildings, the quayside cafes, pine trees lining the opposite shore, a maze of quaint lane-ways... in fact it’s a gorgeous spot all round.
But...
Our time here sadly won’t be remembered for that, nor the swallows swooping around, or the calm crystal clear azure water around us.
For us.. Paxos will be known as ‘The place we got a rat on board’ ....
Chez had read that this area was known for rodents. These reports were from some years ago, and having seen a number of cats on shore, I’d assumed it was a thing of the past.
I should also mention that it’s extremely hot here.. so hot in fact, that on the first night I opted to leave the companion way hatch open - this despite Chez reminding me to shut it before she’d turned in for the night.
I awoke at dawnish to her telling me ‘There’s a rustling’ - with my eyes just open, I misinterpreted this information as ‘Someone’s trying to steal our tender’. I jumped out of bed, the tender was still secure in place.. that was the only good news of the day.
Mid morning, half way through dealing with an infestation of aphids on our previously healthy basil plant, I made the awful discovery of some rat droppings in our main living area.
I mentioned earlier that the boat is our safe little cocoon... well the addition of a rat flips that completely. A pit of the stomach disgust fills you, knowing that you’re sharing your home with such an awful unwanted guest.
To give an idea of the severity of the issue.. I cancelled a pre-arranged Scrabble game with my mum to make the dash into town to pick up traps.
Unsurprisingly, given the islands reputation, both the shops I went to stocked traps...and the shopkeepers also knew the English words ‘rat traps’ without me having to do any ratty impressions (which, I will admit was something of let down, as I’m quite good at it.. Oh well, their loss!)
Loaded up with two of the classic spring style traps, and two slightly more fiendish sticky traps, I headed back to the boat to set them.
Having googled ‘what is Mr. Rats favorite dinner?’ I baited the spring traps with peanut butter and cheese, and ensured they were on a hair trigger. I strategically placed both sets of traps where I expected the action to occur and waited.
....and waited
....and waited
Eventually at midnight I hear the first rustling, by 1.00 am I’ve seen it’s fairly long tail.
At this stage I decide I should probably put some shoes on and grab a cricket bat.
The issue was then successfully resolved.
No-one will thank me for any more detail than that... however those of you who may have seen the film ‘Sean of the Dead’ may recall a scene where the zombie pub landlord is dispatched to the accompaniment of Queen’s ‘Don’t stop me now’.
....well it wasn’t exactly like that, but you possibly get the idea.
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