One morning, as Ronne was sitting at work making sails, he observed a “shadow” flying past his feet, and, according to his account, into the fore-saloon.  The cook came roaring:  “There’s a rat in the fore-saloon!” Then there was a lively scene; the door was shut, and all hands started hunting.  All the cabins were emptied and rummaged, the piano, too; everything was turned upside down, but the rat had vanished into thin air.

About a fortnight later I noticed a corpse-like smell in Hassel’s cabin, which was empty.  On closer sniffing and examination it turned out to be the dead rat, a big black one, unfortunately a male rat.  The poor brute, that had starved to death, had tried to keep itself alive by devouring a couple of novels that lay in a locked drawer.  How the rat got into that drawer beats me.

On cleaning out the provision hold nests were found with several rats in them:  six were killed, but at least as many escaped, so now no doubt we have a whole colony.  A reward was promised of ten cigars for each rat; traps were tried again, but all this did very little good.  When we were in Buenos Aires for the second time we got a cat on board; it certainly kept the rats down, but it was shot on the Barrier.  At Hobart we provided a few traps, which caught a good many; but we shall hardly get rid of them altogether until we have landed most of the provisions, and smoked them out.

We have also had a lot of moth; at present they have done nothing beyond eating a couple of holes in my best trousers.

During the whole of this cruise we had a fishing-line hanging out, but it hung for a whole month without there being a sign of a fish, in spite of the most delicate little white rag that was attached to the hook.  One morning the keenest of our fishermen came up as usual and felt the line.  Yes, by Jove! at last there was one, and a big one, too, as he could hardly haul in the line by himself.  There was a shout for assistance.  “Hi, you beggar! come and lend a hand; there’s a big fish!” Help came in a second, and they both hauled for all they were worth.  “Ah! he’s a fine, glistening fish; it’ll be grand to get fresh fish for dinner!” At last the fish appeared over the rail; but, alas! it was seen to have no head.  It was an ordinary stockfish, about three-quarters of a yard long, that some joker had hung on the line during the night.  That we all had a hearty laugh goes without saying, the fishermen included, as they took it all in good part.

As a fishing-boat the Fram is on the whole not very successful.  The only fish we caught, besides the above-mentioned stockfish, was a real live fish; but, unfortunately, it fell off the hook as it was being hauled in.  According to the account of eye-witnesses, this fish was . . . six feet long and one broad.

Now we don’t fish any more.

On August 19 the hydrographic observations were brought to an end, and a course was laid for Buenos Aires, where we anchored in the roads at midnight on September 1.