The scene of the crime – where the interloper (an intended stowaway) was discovered and forcibly evicted.

This is actually a story from my last days in the Rio. I have not previously gotten around to telling it in this blog.

I was anchored out next to the docks at Tortugal Marina, having my morning cup of coffee in the cockpit. I noticed that there was a piece of blue line floating in the water near KR’s aft quarter – right about where my rope swim ladder hangs down from the starboard stern cleat. I made a mental note to clear it when I next headed out in the dinghy. There was no point chancing getting it tangled in KR’s prop. I went below to prepare for my shore side expedition du jour. Coming back into the cockpit 15 minutes or so later I was presented with the same view as in the pic above – except that there was a rat’s ass (complete with long rat’s tail) sticking out of the propane locker vent. The rat was calmly trying to squeeze his rather large ass through the relatively small vent opening. Also, there was the blue line, last seen in the water, which was now laid over the stern cleat, crossed the propane locker lid and was apparently attached to the rat.

Now, I am from a different generation than the current phone and picture and Facebook obsessed one. Still, my absolute first thought was that I REALLY needed to get a picture of this and started back down the companionway to grab the iPod or iPad. My almost immediate second thought, discretion being the better part of social media sharing, was “NO. Get that damn rat off the boat BEFORE it gets down into the propane locker.” And, since this rat seemed to be rigged with its very own extraction device, I grabbed the blue line, pulled firmly and soon had an amazingly calm rat extricated and dangling from the line.

He was soon (very soon!) once again swimming in the Rio and, after I had cleared his line from where it had fouled on my rope ladder, he wandered on his way - mostly towards the nearby shore but not in any particular hurry. I pulled the rope ladder up just in case he came back.

Now, there are few notable thoughts which have engaged me since.

First, the blue line was tied to the rat – not just fouled. Three half-hitches don’t just happen by accident. Was this someone’s pet rat? Or someone’s dinner? Or???

Second, and something which will, I hope, avoid future nightmares, it was pretty clear to me that the rat had no particular desire to be on board. Swimming by, his line had fouled on my rope ladder and, faced with a choice of treading water until he drowned or climbing aboard, he chose the latter. He then just headed for the first dark hole that presented itself. A dark hole which was, thankfully, a bit too small for his large posterior.

Third, I have often heard (and used) the phrase: “I don’t give a rat’s ass about (you know, whatever)”. Having now had an all too intimate view of the ass in question, I really wonder how this phrase came to be used in common speech. Yes, I know this last just reflects my own weird sense of humor.

Having beers with friends (friends whose respective boats were docked at Tortugal) at the Tortugal bar later that day, I told this story. Their first (and very anxious) question was: “Where did the rat go?” Evilly I answered: “Oh, he swam right towards the Tortugal docks, why?”

I am watching a weather pattern which could well have me at sea at first light on Saturday. The decision will be made tomorrow. Unlike most of my shorter passages, where clearly fair winds are forecast for a rum-line passage to my destination, this one will play the changing wind patterns that will first allow me a day or two of sailing essentially due east. I will then tack towards the north as the winds clock or possibly settle in on anchor in one of the small island, coral reef chains along the northeast corner of Nicaragua for a few days – to wait for a better weather pattern. This decision will need to be made enroute. There does not appear to be any dangerous northerlies likely to penetrate into the Caribbean before next Saturday so this will be a mostly (and hopefully) benign series of close reaches around the Northwest Caribbean.

I’ll just let the winds decide my course. If laying the more easterly landfall that I have in mind becomes difficult or impossible, I’ll aim farther west and my winter plans will adapt as necessary.

Once I leave here, wifi internet will no longer be readily available for the following 2-3 months so this blog will be on hiatus.

Best to all. And Happy Holidays!