The steamship Fort St. George ferried fresh water and passengers from New York to Bermuda beginning in 1921. A cat named Minnie decided the ship was a good place to live. The ship's crew did not return the affection.
Minnie, the black-and-white cat of the Fort St. George, loved her home at sea, but she was also prone to flirting with the tom cats on Pier 95 in New York and at Hamilton Dock in Bermuda. In her years of service as the ship’s dedicated mouser, she was ejected from the ship at least 15 times. Not because she wasn’t loyal to her shipmates or good at catching rats, but because she gave birth to too many kittens.
Every time the sailors sent her packing with her kittens, she’d return as soon as her little ones were old enough to care for themselves.
One time a sailor reportedly took her all the way to Broadway and 72nd Street and bade her what he thought was a final farewell in front of the old Sherman Square Hotel. But when the ship entered Hamilton Harbor in Bermuda a few days later, Minnie miraculously appeared on deck. (My theory is that she hitched a ride to Bermuda on the sister ship, the Fort Victoria.)
You can read more about the Fort St. George and New York's Pier 95 at The Hatching Cat. -via Strange Company
Comments (1)
The M is for Man-eating.
Lisa: But isn't that a bit short-sighted? What happens when we're
overrun by lizards?
Skinner: No problem. We simply release wave after wave of Chinese
needle snakes. They'll wipe out the lizards.
Lisa: But aren't the snakes even worse?
Skinner: Yes, but we're prepared for that. We've lined up a fabulous
type of gorilla that thrives on snake meat.
Lisa: But then we're stuck with gorillas!
Skinner: No, that's the beautiful part. When wintertime rolls around,
the gorillas simply freeze to death.
When a new species is introduced to an area, it can often make an easy living. Organisms that are not a problem in the area in which they evolved can overrun the natives when they find themselves in new locations. They have an easy time of it, squeeze out native species, and breed like crazy.
Eventually however, the presence of these invaders who become so plentiful becomes an opportunity for another species, one that preys on the invader. The predator might itself be an introduced species, or it might be an existing organism that has adapted and stepped up to the task/free lunch offered by the invasive species.
Yes, over time, these things have a way of working themselves out. But the span of time required can be longer that is convenient for human activities. And certainly much diversity is lost along the way.
Humans have been responsible for the introduction of so many organisms into new locations. Sometimes it is intentional, like the cane toads. Sometimes introductions are a by-product of other activities such as Eurasian plants brought to the Americas as seed in animal fodder or larval stages of marine organisms in ballast tanks.
In most cases, we've lost diversity, a lot of diversity. The case of the cane toads is a rare one in that people pay attention to it. They don't so much notice the difference in the assemblage of weeds in roadside ditches, or the loss of native bee species.
It's a pity. Sadly it is rather inevitable.