A masked intruder triggers an emergency trip ashore and a call to animal control.
Issue 141: Nov/Dec 2021
The plan was to sail our 1975 Bristol 24, Pegu Club, to Block Island, Rhode Island, for the Memorial Day weekend. We were on our mooring in Groton, Connecticut, and I was in the cabin unpacking when I heard my husband, Jeff, say, “There’s a raccoon in the lazarette.”
Jeff is known to say random, silly things, so of course I thought he was joking.
“No. I’m serious,” he said. “There’s a raccoon in the lazarette.”
Well, this was a new one.
With the furry intruder’s sharp claws and the (albeit remote) risk of rabies, we were reluctant to take it upon ourselves to displace him. After unsuccessfully trying to reach the marina’s yard staff on the VHF, I hopped into the dinghy to row back and get some assistance.
When I informed the guys in the yard of our situation, they looked as incredulous as I must have when Jeff first made the announcement.
“But, you’re on a mooring,” one of them finally ventured.
“Yep.”
“OK, so then he must have gotten in when you were on the hard.”
“Nope. We’ve been on the boat every weekend and have explored every nook and cranny. He wasn’t there last Sunday.”
After some discussion, the guys suggested we motor to the T-dock while they called Groton Animal Control. I pointed out that with the raccoon curled up next to the outboard, motoring was not an option. So, they hip-towed us to the dock, where we waited for the animal control officer, who showed up fairly quickly, snare in hand.
Watching the raccoon repeatedly evade the officer, it was clear to us that the little guy wanted nothing to do with the snare. In an inspired moment, and by simply pulling on its line, Jeff removed a fender that was also in the lazarette. The raccoon saw the opportunity. He made a beeline for the engine well—on many older boats they are accessible through the adjacent lazarette— and slid into the water, dog-paddling away.
Ah-ha! That’s how he got in there!
Knowing that letting the raccoon go might mean a future trip to the marina, the officer still wanted to catch him. But this raccoon would soon demonstrate a bit of the cunning that this species has long been associated with.
Swimming down the port side of a boat tied stern-to in a slip, he saw us watching him from the dock. He turned around, crossed the bow, and started dog-paddling down the starboard side instead. When we walked over to the starboard side, he turned around, crossed the bow, and started going down the port side. It was comical, and it quickly became clear that the officer was simply going to have to drive to the marina if and when the next boat reported a stowaway.
Three hours had passed, making a pre-sunset arrival at Block Island impossible. So instead, we decided to sail to nearby Stonington, Connecticut, after finishing our preparations for the long weekend—preparations that fortunately did not include cleaning up the lazarette. The raccoon must have made himself at home shortly before we arrived because there was no evidence that he had been there at all, save for a tuft of fur that Jeff discovered on Block Island the next day.
Jeff and Kimberly Boneham sail on the 1977 Bristol 29.9, Pegu Club, the “big boat” they bought after selling their Bristol 24, which had the same name. To read about their recent adventures traveling along the U.S. East Coast and the Bahamas, go to adventuresontheclub.com.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
