J.Melford Smith, C/E USMM First No.America Rights
Aprrox.498 Words
Copyright © 1989

THE HAWAIIAN STOWAWAY

(An Alaskan Vignette)




A winter gale was plastering the snow horizontally against the windows of our isolated home on the eastern shore of Orca Inlet in Prince William Sound. It was our first winter in Alaska and our first big storm. The howling of the wind was punctuated by the soft snores of Penny, our cocker spaniel sleeping by the stove. I was deeply engrossed in a mystery novel while my wife was sewing something for our new baby, asleep in her crib. It was a peaceful domestic scene in the Alaskan bush on a stormy winter night.
Suddenly the peace was shattered by a prolonged scream of sheer terror. My heart pounded with the sudden rush of adrenalin and my first thought was for my 30-06 rifle which was on the other side of the room. Penny dog flew straight up in the air from a deep sleep, landed with four on the floor and stood there shaking with fright, looking confused. What in the world was the danger that was threatening my family in the wilds of Alaska? Glancing at my wife, I saw that her face was white as a sheet as she stared in horror at a great black hairy Hawaiian spider in her lap. A Hawaiian spider in Alaska? Strange things happen 'neath the midnight sun.
Before moving to Alaska we were living in Lanikai on the windward side of the island of Oahu. Among the varied wildlife of Hawaii, along with scorpions and mongooses (mongeese?) are a species of arachnids that are huge black hair covered creatures. Although they look ferocious and deadly, they eat only mosquitoes and are very shy and harmless. A large one lived above the latticed window in the shower at our house in Lanikai. I'm sure she did an excellent job since we never got bit by a mosquito while taking a shower. She may have heard about the zillions of mosquitoes in Alaska and decided to join us on our voyage to Prince William Sound.
Among the things my wife had packed in Hawaii was a box of sewing material. It was in this box that the huge spider had been residing from May to November. The heat from the stove ended her hibernation and reminded her that she had not eaten for seven months. She jumped out of the material into my wife's lap, looking wildly around for some of those Alaskan mosquitoes. My wife's reaction was a blood-curdling scream, frightening both the dog and I out of our wits. After we recovered I offered the idea that we should keep her as a pet until the next summer when the mosquitoes would be plentiful but my wife would have none of it. The last I saw of Miss Spider, she was being ignominiously swept out into the snow as quiet returned to our new Alaskan home.
Capt. Jim USMM (Ret.)