HITCHHIKERS by Maria McManus, MV Freeway

Little black do-do's on a boat mean what?  Yes, you would be right if you said cockroach poo, but like a lot of things in life, all is not what it seems all of the time.

We anchored our motor vessel, Freeway, in the Marrat River with our friends Barb and Allen on their boat, looking for a feed of Barra and crabs.  The next morning I walked out a and saw three small black calling cards and as my only phobia is those brown beasties I quickly summoned  my husband Jim to investigate my findings.  We both decided they weren't Gecko gifts (wrong colour) so - yes, cockies, but upon searching inside the boat - floors, bench tops, engine rooms etc. we could find no trace.  A mystery, why just the back deck?

Next morning, cuppa in hand, out I go to find twice as many poos as the previous day.  Right - mice has to be the answer but still no sign inside the boat, umm - must be outside type mice.  Jim found a mouse trap in our collection of "we might need it some day" box and set the trap.  I positioned a can of insect spray and torch near the stern door to check during the night just in case my original diagnosis was correct.  Everything covered, armed with trap and spray I was ready to be victorious over whatever vermin had hitched a free ride.

Because of the abovementioned phobia, I crept stealthily in the dark through the back door armed with spray and torch - nothing, no scurrying critters and an empty mouse trap but a lot more black dots.  Later in the night I performed another commando raid, torch flashing across the deck, up the passageways all the while terrified one would run over my bare foot, but no sign of movement whatsoever.  Sleep finally stopped my night manoeuvres and cuppa in hand again the next morning I stepped out on the deck.  I didn't know where to put my feet.  Calling cards everywhere - deck, table, chairs, railings, poo everywhere and the mouse trap standing pristine and virginal.

Now, I'm a fairly calm person not known for hysterics or breakdowns but I could definitely feel a minor collapse coming on, when the radio burst into life with our friend, Allen, calling "You will never guess what happened to me last night", he said "a small bat attacked me in our cabin".  What? A bat?  "Yes, I felt something flutter at me, turned on the light and there he was".  Allen caught it in his underpants (the ones he wasn't wearing) and released it.  Bats, ah the penny dropped, so did the bats all over the boat.  I had gone out in the dark, examining the decks when all I had to do was shine it up.  Up on the hanging fishing rods, the rolled up covers, the railings.  The little blighters were there all the time, in steadily increasing numbers probably grinning at me while I chased elusive vermin at ground level.

Mystery solved.  Barb and Allen had a midnight visitor because the weather was warm and the doors were left open.  We had insect screens on all the doors so no flapping bats in the cabin, only the ones in my head and thank goodness as I just might have had that breakdown.