The Hunter

I have mostly been writing about either what we have been doing or our experiences. Today I am going to write about my wife. I have said this before and I am going to say it again...I love her dearly and she is amazing and I am lucky to have her. Because that has been said, I can tell you that she is slightly neurotic...in a good way...sort of.

We have had a relatively bug free experience since we left Seattle (other than Hope Island where it was like a breading ground for every type of annoying insect known to man). It seems that the farther north we have gotten, the more the bugs are prevalent...and the larger they have become. We have seen some of the largest biting flies and mosquitoes that I have ever seen. Brenda has endearingly named the mosquitoes “the little bastards”. We actually saw a large mosquito take off with a small goat and devour it in mid flight. The eagles here are scared of the mosquitoes and so am I.

The problem I have is that the mosquitoes love me. For some reason they like to swarm around me and remove ounces of my blood at a time. I think it's because I'm sweet, Brenda thinks it is because I have some genetic flaw that makes me a target for “the little bastards” (thanks Mom and Dad). Whatever it is, they can find me when we are miles away from land. I can't figure this out...we can literally be miles from land and they will fly their little selves all the way out to me, and without my permission, remove some of my much needed fluid. I don't even want to walk a couple of miles, but they will fly what to them must be the equivalent of 100 miles just for the opportunity to bite me.

Before we left Seattle, we made screens that cover our door and hatches just because we heard that we would be in mosquito country. They work really well to keep the bugs out but they also work really well to keep the heat in...and it has been hot. To keep the interior of the boat cool enough to inhabit, we have to keep the screens off in the daytime when there aren't as many mosquitoes out, and then we close up the boat in the evening, when “the little bastards” are out in force. Sometimes they make it past our defenses and get into the boat during the day and hide out to attack us at night.

This is where Brenda comes in. She doesn't like mosquitoes almost as much as I don't like mosquitoes. She likes to kill “the little bastards”. She doesn't tend to get bitten, but she doesn't like them invading her home. Beyond her cunning, she has an arsenal of weapons that she uses to seek out and destroy said bastards...a rolled up fishing guide and a spotlight. The spotlight is brighter than the sun and will melt a hole in the side of the boat if you leave it pointing in one spot for too long. It makes it a lot easier to find the bastards hiding out if you have an extremely bright light. The rolled up fishing guide is surprisingly nimble when cutting through the air in search of a little bastard and strikes with a vengeance.

Her technique is simple but effective.

1. Get some bait
2. Listen for buzzing
3. Shine the spotlight
4. Kill 

The bait is me. I can be laying in bed, covered from head to toe, with only enough skin showing to allow me to breath, and that is where the bastards will be. Sometimes if she knows they are near she will tell me to take off my shirt so they will come faster. “Take off your shirt! I need bait!” she will say with fire in her eyes.

 

Brenda can sleep through 30 knots of wind humming through the rigging but wake up at the faintest sound of buzzing from 20 yards away. When she hears the buzzing...she is up and ready. 

She can shine the spotlight faster than a wild west sheriff. Since the little bastards tend to come out at 2 am and the little bastards are looking for bait (me), the spotlight is generally shining right in my face. It is not a great way to wake up...even if she is on the hunt.

With laser like precision, she wields the rolled up fishing guide like a ninja and destroys any little bastard in her path...even if it is on my face at 2 am.

Sometimes the little bastards can be crafty. They can hide and evade and make life difficult for Brenda. This is where the cunning comes into play. She will say things like “I know you are here”, “come to mamma”, or “WHERE ARE YOU!?!?!?!” with an intensity that scares me. She can be patient. I have seen her shine the spotlight and wield the rolled up fishing guide for 3 hours one night while waiting for the perfect time to pounce on the little bastard (this started at 2 am...not a good night for sleeping).

But when the time arrives to destroy...look out and don't get in her way. Her muscles tighten and twitch with anticipation. A tiny bead of sweat rolls down her forehead. A rage builds inside of this usually sweet girl. There is a fury unleashed that will scare the toughest of men. A “crack” of the rolled up fishing guide occurs that sounds like the sound barrier has been broken...but it's not the sound barrier...it's a dead little bastard. With a slight chuckle and a hint of a grin showing on her face, the mosquito hunter is satisfied with her work...until the next little bastard starts buzzing in her home. Then the hunt starts again.........