Wildlife on Paxos - what to see when you're not sailing

Wildlife on Paxos 

 

Hmm! No sailing today, I think.  

  

Force 6 gusting 7 - all out of a clear blue sky!

When the wind gets up conditions can change very rapidly on Paxos. Waves generated in the Adriatic are funnelled between the island and Ak. Asprokavos ( Corfu ) where they meet  depths shelving from 1000m to 60m in less than 10 Nautical miles. The results in anything over F 5 can be dramatic.

See the pretty white caps!

Going up?

....and down again. Ooof!

....and these pictures were taken on the lee side of the island....

Sailing a very small  boat in Greece means you have an excuse to stay ashore if you feel like it. Wind too strong? Sun too hot? Just plain idle?  Hire a  villa, find a camp site or just sling a hammock between a couple of olive trees - assuming you have permission.

In the hot, dry summers you will want to spend as much time as possible out doors (If you prefer an air conditioned hotel you are probably reading the wrong article.) and so you will inevitably come across  one or two creatures that  are more.... er...shall we say, assertive than their Northern European equivalents.  

The grass hoppers are BIG!


The mosquitoes are even BIGGER!

 Not actually a giant mosquito. This cheerful looking Dragon Fly eats mozzies for breakfast.
One of the Good Guys!

Leaving the windows or hatches open on a Greek summer evening is to invite all sorts of bugs to share your quarters. On the “Four Sisters” mosquitoes were sometimes a problem, especially in Lakka harbour where the air is thick with their electric blue buzzing. They track you down by the CO2 in your breath so often one mozzie coil or citronella candle on the down wind side of the cockpit will sort them out. They can only fly at about 1.5 knots so any breeze has them safely grounded. On still nights there’s no escape. Spray on plenty of repellent or by next morning you face will look like a pizza. 

Night Visitors

 Watch out for the Geckos you guys...... 

Day shift

The soundtrack of summer around here is provided by the cicadas. Big, tough-looking insects, they sing from first light until dusk - like natures own tinnitus. I love the sound, but then I already have tinnitus ( Too close to the speakers at a WHO concert in 1968?) and their version of white noise makes a nice change. The sheer volume of it at close quarters is quite overpowering and can be heard from at least a mile offshore. It drives some people nuts and even I will admit to enjoying the silence in the olive groves when they've had enough. Impressive they might be.. but they are no match for the Top Banana of Paxiot insects, the hornet. At least two species of which seem to regard cicadas as their staple diet.

Cicada.    Tough enough to feed on steel reinforcing rods - but looking somewhat anxious?

Assassin!

Greek hornets, though. They are something else! On duty 24 hours, they pose no problem to humans during the day. Hardworking and upright citizens, they spend their time carving up cicadas into manageable chunks and flying them home to feed the kids. At night, however, it’s party time and the midnight revellers amongst them are attracted to bright lights. Small bands of them will happily fly over water to reach you and share the fun but become disgruntled and behave badly when they find no cicada burgers laid on. They stagger around like dangerous drunks, high on Citronella, buzzing in a malevolent bass/ baritone and falling over things. They become extremely unpleasant, making lewd remarks and pawing disgracefully at passing moths. The only way to get rid of them is to turn the lights off – but make sure no stragglers have found their way into your bedding first. These 2” assassins are like Caravaggio in his cups. They are quick to take offence and get the knives out!

 

Hornet - chopping up a cicada it's just killed.
Too heavy to carry in one piece!

 When all is quiet you may think that it is safe to put a light back on and continue with your reading. Mistake! This will wake up the one that had passed out behind the kettle. After a bit of bleary-eyed antennae waving it will climb to the highest point it can reach, then launch itself, unsteady but with determined, gritted mandibles, towards the brightest object in the room. Better hope your wife’s not wearing the head torch, then. However, before you reach for the rolled up newspaper, you should know that hornets are a protected species - and in Germany, for example, killing just one could lead to a €5,000 fine!  My EU-friendly technique for dealing with them (and any other unwelcome arthropods) involves the skilled use of a postcard and a medicine glass. My wife, being a better tennis player than I, prefers a fly swat and when hornets are around will only be parted from it with extreme reluctance. “..from my cold, dead hand..” was the actual phrase used. Unnecessarily melodramatic in my opinion. Having experienced their sting first hand ( or rather, foot, in this case, due to a delivery with too little topspin ) I can vouch for it being no worse than a wasp – or two but, after an encounter with hornets, a mere wasp will never chase you from your picnic again. You will regard them with benign indifference as they attempt to share your glass of beer and express mild and faintly puzzled surprise at the antics of less sophisticated folk.

 Hornets are very impressive  (I think that's the right word!) insects it's true ..... especially in a confined space .... but they don't go out of their way to cause trouble.  Better a hornet than a cabin full of no-see-‘ums!

The hornet always takes the meat filled  thorax first (flight muscle)  as protein for the larvae. As she bites off the dead  cicada's wings a solitary opportunist ant makes off with the abdomen.

The hornet in the pictures below fell from an olive tree as she murdered yet another cicada....all in the line of duty, you understand, to feed her brood at home. Cicadas are too big for her to carry straight to the nest which often - no, ALWAYS, leads to problems with... The Organisation. ( Horrified gasp!)  The Organisation is what insect Mums threaten their grubs with when dad's buzzed off for the day.

This hornet has returned to find the ants making off with the rest of her kill...

 A tough cookie. Despite a cowardly attack from the rear this hornet got her kill back from the ants, leaving several of them dead or injured.  She was lucky. Quite often the ants get the cicada AND the hornet for lunch.

The Organisation. 

 Comrade Worker Ant (First class) reports to the local Praesidium; they evaluate the situation; take a vote; decide on the numbers of worker and/or soldier comrades required to deal with the situation; take another vote to ratify the decision; present a full report in triplicate to the Inner Cadre who look for ideological weaknesses in their findings in the light of Marxist-Leninist  philosophy and then, with due solemnity, pass the entire Codex, complete with Illuminated Capitals, on to  Our Beloved Leader, the Queen Ant ...who promptly eats it and tells 'em to get the Heck on with, for pity's sake. The entire process takes about 90 seconds (I've timed it.) from the first scout returning to the nest to the first cohort of excitable workers leaving the nest chanting slogans about  running dog capitalist lackey hornet revisionists.

Soldier ant on guard. "Come on then, if you think you're hard enough!"

I like ants. They've got a "can do" attitude to life which I admire - but rarely emulate . No task too small, no job too big, they just roll up their sleeves and get stuck in. Just watch and individual ant go about her business and after a while you will swear that this minute creature not only has a distinct personality, different to her sisters, but is capable of showing something like emotions, too.

"Nearly there!" Half a peanut about to be towed into the nest.

Say it with flowers.

Conference. The Praesidium in action. The worker (left) elicits help from two soldiers.

A blatant case of  anthropomorphic projection, no doubt - but watch how her nonchalance in carrying out a routine search pattern  perks up on finding food; her triumphal march back to the nest with her prize; her dogged struggle to overcome difficult terrain with heavy loads and her hesitancy and agitation when forced to leave large food items in order to fetch help.

Using Tools

One thing you have to concede. Ant behaviour is pretty smart. How about this. In the photo below ants have found a discarded chocolate bar. It had melted in the sun to a thick goo, as sticky as a fly-paper. It was impossible to carry in ant jaws and too thick to be sucked up as a liquid. What did they do? Collected spiky seeds and hairy sage leaflets, dipped them into the sticky mess and carried the chocolate away like that!  I've seen another species of ant do the same thing with spilt honey  so this is obviously a widespread behaviour - on Paxos at least!

Ants using sage leaves to soak up melted chocolate!

I didn't know that insects used tools.           Is this a first?               What next... making fire?



More Bugs

I've never been bothered by ants on the boat - and you won't be bothered with ants ashore, either, unless you start leaving food around. Never a good idea, especially not in Greece. However, apart from food there is another commodity in short supply on the island. That's fresh water. The hot, dry summers make life difficult for most wildlife on the island and any regular supply of it will attract an appreciative clientele. A shallow dish of water will dry up in less than a day but if replenished will attract an incredible variety of creatures. Birds, you would expect but hedgehogs, snakes (not at the same time!) lizards, bees, butterflies, feral cats, and, less welcome the truly fearsome six inch (150mm) long Lithobomorph centipedes.

Not my picture - I wouldn't get that close!

These brutes have a poisonous bite that will put you in hospital and allegedly can kill a chicken so be careful if you turn over any large stones - and also with that wet mop you left out last night!
There's one other centipede (Scutigrea spp.)you should know about. Not because it's dangerous but because it's ...well...a bit over-endowed in the leg department, shall we say. This, and the fact that it can run up a wall at lightening speed tends to be a bit off-putting on first acquaintance. It must have a heck of a nervous system to co-ordinate all those legs at such a speed. An Intel Dual Core Processor at least.  I put it in with the Good Guys since I saw one stalk, run down and kill a mosquito that was having a snooze on the bedroom wall after stuffing herself with my blood. (Note to self:   Remember to actually apply repellant after a shower.)

This one's called Scutigera spp. because  it can't half scoot!

Scorpions have a bad reputation but on Paxos, at least, they seem to be inoffensive, shy and retiring.

The little chap shown below was found in the shower ashore, not on the boat, thank goodness!

 Normally they are only too willing to stay out of your way. If you annoy them, however, by picking them up on a piece of paper for instance, they will wave that sting around as if they mean it!  If I had a choice about which to find in my shower - scorpion or centipede - well....have a guess!

There are prettier insects on the island, loads of butterflies for example, and perhaps I should take more pictures of them, but somehow I find the ugly bugs more interesting. Less "Page 3" perhaps. (Nice pair of wings but that's about it.)  They flap around languorously, like WAGs waiting for the "Hello" magazine photographer, and expect everyone to take them seriously.

I only include this unidentified small Blue as it was so hard to get near it. "I vant to be alone..."

Humming Bird Hawk moths are interesting to watch...and not butterflies, either ...so they get in, too.

Feeding on Plumbago...shutter speed too slow.

Just when you think you have the perfect shot lined up.. it zips into the shade.

Tongue uncoils ready for in-flight refueling.

The VERTEBRATES

Group I   - English Tourists

Sadly, the English Academic Tourist is almost extinct in the northern Ionian. A few lost remnants of the former large herds can be found in the Departures Hall of Corfu airport, desperately trying to avoid contact with their nemesis, the Kavos Boys, which, although largely nocturnal, have  driven the Academics to more remote areas of Greece (...think Grey Squirrel v. Red Squirrel. ) They are, however, when seen, easily identified by even the most casual observer by their distinctive garb of Panama hat, badly creased cream Linen suit and brown leather sandals. ...typically worn with grey, woollen socks. Strangely, their range has not been taken over by the Kavos Boys, who are rarely found more than 10 metres from a bar or beach, unless in search of momentary privacy. Instead, the unoccupied territory is becoming populated with a newly evolved subspecies - the English Ethnic Culturist. (Nothing to do with the E.E.C.) These tourists can come singly or in small herds, seeking out little-used pathways and ruined buildings. They are less distinctive in their dress than the Academics but can be identified by their earnest expressions, white legs and habit of getting lost in wooded terrain. (They may have a map but very rarely a compass.) Close examination may reveal that they are members of Amnesty International and carry a Kidney Donor card.

Posed photo. My mate Steve pretending he can read a map.

 A similar examination of a specimen of the Kavos Boys would more likely provide  business cards from Magic Video and Nico's Doner Kebab but even this would be a rare event, their normal attire being simply a pair of knee length Adidas shorts, a white baseball cap and a tee-shirt, not worn but carried in the same hand as a can of lager.

A boat load of Kavos Boys on a rare excursion to Lakka harbour. Normal behaviours for this species not in evidence due to the early hour. (Still daylight.) Usual response to being on a boat is to throw themselves off  it as soon as possible but here they maintain their reputation for unpredictability.

No special warnings need be given about this species as they are not often dangerous to others - although they like to think they are - but are often to be found in hospital casualty departments due to sun stroke, sun burn, dehydration, falling off things, bumping into things, septic body piercings, fighting over members of the opposite gender and alcoholic poisoning. The sexes can be told apart by the female's lesser requirement for clothing. They are a very vocal species with a wide range of somewhat repetitive calls from a terse " Oi, oi, mate!" to a long drawn out and plaintive glissando of  "O..L...E,  Ole, ole, ole...! Ole, ole."   Which is as close as they get to speaking anything other than their own dialect. Although unpleasant when in large numbers they can, as individuals be amusing companions and generous to a fault, the females often donating their hand bags to passing scooterists and the males regularly paying their bar bills two or three times over. 

Another sub-species of English Tourist is the clumsily named PC Wasp Mother. Unfortunately the numbers of this particularly aggressive species are increasing year on year to the detriment of all other inhabitants of the island.
Distinguishing marks include very large push chairs (when their offspring are in the larval stage), replaced by huge 4x4 vehicles as the young get more unmanageable. The female of the species is dominant (males are largely peripheral to the family group, their role is vestigial, being limited to the provision of large push chairs and huge 4x4s) and her entire behaviour is ostensibly directed towards ensuring an absolutely risk-free environment for her offspring, what ever the cost to the rest of society. It is not clear whether her behaviour patterns are maternal in origin or a form of display directed at rival females. Evidence for the latter view is the neglect suffered by her offspring due to her chillingly single minded obsessions with such projects as reducing the potential for Knife Crime by banning their use in restaurants (all food to be pre-cut into bite sized pieces by the chef in the kitchen first), campaigning for legislation to provide Designated Areas for breast feeding mothers on all forms of public transport. (Thus displaying their solidarity with all Women Kind as, obviously, they wouldn't be seen dead on a bus themselves.)
On Paxos they invariably direct their attentions to the providers of services, their chief victims being travel reps and villa owners (Other locals are either totally ignored or treated as Noble Savages, rather like David Attenborough meeting the Mountain Gorillas but without any genuine respect or affection.) Reps are  bombarded with complaints about food, accommodation, plumbing, the weather but particularly anything that could possibly affect the offspring. One example being the mother who complained about the lack of information in the travel brochure on sea bathing. "No one told us there would be fish. The children were startled!" (NB This is perfectly true!)

Apart from Humans, the most commonly observed vertebrate on Paxos is shown below:-

The  Often Spotted Taverna cat. Notice the alert, wary expression and ill-nourished appearance.

Please be aware that on Paxos, for every cute kitten and well fed pet like the one shown above, there will be at least four scabby, thorn scratched, flea bitten, half starved, desease ridden, battered old feral bruisers   lurking in the shadows and glaring at you with their one good eye. It would be very unwise to attempt to stroke one of these cats, even you could see a bit of fur without a tick on it. For you to get close enough it would have to be a very sick cat indeed but it would still have the energy left to take your hand off at the wrist.

The feral cats live on their wits and on lizards, mostly. In winter they (and any cats that were reliant on a seasonal Taverna) have a hard time of it and the mortality rate is high. Some kind hearted residents give such animals enough food to keep them going over the winter. In return these cats do the important task of keeping down the vermin attracted by the food that tourists seem to discard where ever they go.

"Stay away from my kid,  Bitch!"

Paxos, like all the Greek Islands, is blessed with a species of small, brown rat as part of its natural wildlife. These charming creatures, referred to as “indigenous tree squirrels” by an enterprising  Travel Rep, normally leave a blameless life in the olive groves, feeding on insects, seeds and the odd lizard. The dry summers were a time of hardship for them until the arrival of the Northern European Tourist who often provides a windfall that no self-respecting “tree squirrel” can ignore. Local trades people are well aware of the effect that the term “rat” has upon middle class sensibilities and so the following discourse between the occupant of one of the more up market Villas and the “maid” (actually the owner of this and a couple of other villas) is typical:-

Maria:              Ya soo, Missus. Kalimera. Po Po Po! Zeste poli,  Ne? I clean now? OK?

Missus:            Ah! Maria. I’m glad I’ve managed to catch you….(Maria looks puzzled. She cleans every day at 11:00am) … I don’t like to mention it but there was a rat on the barbeque this morning.

Maria:              “Rat?”

Missus:            “Yes. It was eating a chop bone! Nasty filthy things.!”

Maria:              “Nasty? Filthy? Where did you buy him? I tell you, shop at my cousin Yannis. His lamb chops very, very good – from New Zealand!”

Missus:            “No, no! The RAT. I want you to do something about it.”

Maria:              “Missus, we have no rat here. Maybe mouse. Only little mouse.”

Missus:            “It was a rat, I tell you. We all saw it. The children were terrified.”

Mister: (emerging from the shower.) “That’s right. Big ugly brute it was..”

Maria:              “Maybe Field-Mouse….?”

Mister:             “It was a bally RAT! Now, either you do something about it or we will be forced to report the matter to XV Travel and demand to be transferred to a different, vermin free villa. We would, naturally, expect to be compensated for the inconvenience…and I would just like to mention that the children have blocked the toilet again….”

Maria:              “OK, OK. Mebbe little Rat-Mouse. Is not a problem. I send Yanni up with the arsenic. You just put a little out at night in a saucer of milk…”

Mister:             “But wont that kill it?”

Missus:            “Oh! I don’t want rat corpses all over the place…”

Maria:              “ Look lady. You leave food out so you gonna get rats. Is up to you. You can have live rat or dead rat but I tell you this, dead rat under the floor stink worse than a live rat on the barbeque!”

Very bad photo of a Paxos Indigenous Tree Squirrel. When no Barbeque is available  they seem to like cicadas, hunting them in the olive trees at night.

Here there be Dragons!  Only 20 cms long,  it's true...but watch out if you are a grasshopper.

See what I mean?

More to Follow - if you can stand it...........