This bit of business happened back in Todd’s Inlet behind Butchart Gardens. I am not talking about grumpy Santa either.
I had always viewed otters as great little animals. Cute, good family values, they have never killed anyone that I know of so good little creatures. Mo my yellow Labrador and I were hunting the Snake River years ago and I had one swim under neath my legs while standing in the water. Mo wanted to do what Mo did best, but I intervened and we watch the little cute bundle of fur swim away.
Two years ago while attending an Island Packet (company that made SV Vagabon) get together. One of the other owners a sweet lady from Anacortes, WA was telling a horrific story about Otters. The short version of it is the little dears had set up their love nest in the cockpit of her sailboat. This went undisturbed until spring when Shirley returned.
She spent quite a bit of time describing the mess, but the smell. Her description was so spellbinding you thought you were there. Holy cow, what a different side of that cute little furry creature I had always had a good impression of.
Flash forward to Todd’s Inlet, I’m motoring back past grumpy Santa when I notice 4 seagulls at the back of SV Vagabon. They look like the cat that ate the canary when they see us coming. What is up?
The birds continue to swim away looking like guilty teens hoping you don’t notice. Everything seems OK until Liska pops into the cockpit. It’s not a love nest, but a dining hall and restroom for the local otter. Further inspection reveals he came up the wind vane and ate a fish before coming inside to relieve himself. Shirley’s description of the smell was accurate, really accurate.
Otters, first impression are not always accurate. Rat bastards, my new working paradigm when it comes to Otters.