It's mosquito season again but Wyn Drabble is well prepared. Photo / NZME
It's mosquito season again but Wyn Drabble is well prepared. Photo / NZME
The season has begun. I blame the milder nights. Yes, the mozzies are back.
At 5am I was roused from deep sleep by a whining invader buzzing around the tender offerings of my right earlobe, plump as it is with delicious, sweet, inviting blood.
Whine, buzz, dive.
SLAP! Miss.
Manualattack is not easy. You think you've worked out their exact location so your hand comes down with great force on that key spot.
And it hurts! You've slapped yourself a mighty one and the affected area is smarting and is no doubt red. What's worse, the enemy is still at large. Somewhere in the room.
The venue is silent except for the chorus of birds outside the window announcing the arrival of a new day. A period of tension follows. Then ...
Clearly, there will be no more sleep tonight. The alarm is still one and a half hours away, but how can you sleep when you are under attack?
At least you can mentally plan the arsenal you will be able to assemble later in the day. You will gather together bug repellent, anti-insect spray, a fly swat, armed guards with machine guns, camouflaged tanks and, just off the coast, naval destroyers with their guns and missiles set on the bedroom.
This is serious.
Wyn Drabble.
So, the next night is different. You've even plugged into the electricity socket one of those little pots of liquid which, when charged by electricity, emit vapour that mosquitoes are not supposed to care for but don't seem to mind.
You even undertook some research during the day. You learned from Te Papa museum that New Zealand's 13 native species have mostly adapted to bite birds so they tend to leave humans alone.
Let's assume, then, that they are not the enemy and let's also assume that the morning bird racket is an avian response to being bitten by mosquitoes.
But, the site also said that our salt pool mosquito Opifex fuscus is a vicious human biter and it practises on the blubber of seals so is pretty good at it getting through skin. The site adds that, if you are bitten inland, it is probably by two of three introduced mosquito species.
I don't fully understand how their geographical metaphor works, but let's just assume that inland is anywhere above the ankles.
Anyway, our two introduced enemies are possibly Aedes notoscriptus (the striped or ankle-biting mosquito) or Culex quinquefasciatus (the southern house or brown mosquito). The former is found as far south as Lyttelton and the latter as far south as Nelson and Marlborough. The female is the culprit.
Right! Now we know what we're dealing with here. We're getting somewhere.
Tonight everything is in order for all-out attack: the naval officers have their men and ships on full alert; the tanks are standing ready; the armed guards have their rifles loaded; the fly swat, spray and repellent are set out beside the bed. The enemy has been identified. All we have to do is identify the females and exterminate them.
Snuggle in, knowing that tonight you have full protection. You may wake at 5am, but you can rest easy knowing that all your artillery will swing into action at the first sign of the enemy.
Sure enough, 5am comes, a mosquito appears and all the forces swing into action. Amidst the resultant carnage, you try for another hour and a half of sleep, safe in the knowledge that the enemy has been eliminated. Sweet slumber is yours.
Whine, buzz, dive.
SLAP! Miss.
"If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito." (Dalai Lama)
• Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, a writer, musician and public speaker.
