Bugs

I went to clean up in the Big Sound Marina’s showers on the morning of July 8, 2013. The door had been open all night with the light on and there to greet me were multiple types of moths. They were mainly ensconced around the light fixture but there was a fair representation of them scattered around the small concrete block room.

Other bugs had also been attracted to the light. There were those big mosquitos like non-mosquitos hovering about (I can never bring myself to squash them, they look so helpless). There were a few of the real thing. There were the ubiquitous gnats, some biting, others not. A few well-fed spiders lurked in the corners and several flies of varying sizes flew in but did not stick around.

Some of the moths fluttered but most had their wings held out flat against the wall. They were small: the biggest being less than an inch wide. I wished I had my camera. These wings of brown and black were symmetrical as far as I could tell. One was a mirror image of the other. They reminded me of the perfectly reflected shorelines I have seen in the silent coves of the North Channel.

But I was there to take a shower before the trip to Echo Bay that morning. As I lathered up I tried not to disturb the moths, imagining that none of these beautiful diverse creatures had long to live.

There is another side to bugs. One that is not so benevolent. These are the flying creatures that inhabit the isolated anchorages we frequent when not tied to a slip in a marina. The days belong to the midges or flies. Here too there is much diversity but not much other than that to commend them. The two most troublesome are the bee-sized horseflies, and the smaller and more ferocious spotted delta winged fiends.

Your average horsefly is so large and cumbersome that they are easy to avoid. Not so the delta wings. They are stealthy, lurching in corners before the attack. If I get a good bead on one they are usually easy to dispatch but often they beat me to the punch. A nickel size red swelling quickly appears at the bite and lingers for days.

None of these hold a candle to the North Country mosquito. This is obviously an understatement. I think the dread of mosquitos is part of the collective consciousness that Dr. Jung wrote so eloquently about. Charlotte and I have developed a strategy to keep them out of Carrie Rose. Each year we have to be reminded of its importance by a sleepless night of dive-bombing buzzing-in-the-ear mosquito assaults. They are relentless and more than ready to sacrifice themselves for one tank full of blood.

It starts before the light is doused. Some announce themselves with that characteristic buzz and other by the bite they leave. We start to kill them one by one. It is a war of attrition like the Russians and the Germans had in WWII.

If we have followed our mosquito abatement policies the few that get in are dealt with. If not it is a long night. Restless sleep eventually wins out even if we lose that nights battle. When nature calls requiring a trip to the head the process begins again. I lie in bed and hope for the first light of dawn to lift the curse. It is then that I try to regain the sleep that is forever lost.