Black Lights, Peanut Butter, and Panic: One Alaskan Island’s Mission to Stay Rat‑Free
A once peaceful island in the Bering Sea is currently in chaos after a resident reported maybe, possibly seeing a rat.
By Missy Baker · September 25, 2024
Disclaimer: While this story is infested with facts, it also contains telltale droppings of satire.
St. Paul, part of Alaska’s Pribilof Islands, is sometimes referred to as the “Galapagos of the North” for its diversity of life—and lack of a catchier ad campaign.
The quaint little island is a blissful bird paradise, and it’s able to stay that way thanks to an extremely strict no-rats-allowed policy.
You know what they say: location, location, location. If you were in New York City, a rat sighting wouldn’t raise a single eyebrow unless maybe it was carrying a slice of pizza.
On St. Paul Island, however, spotting a rat is like seeing a celebrity—if that celebrity has a taste for rare bird eggs, spreading diseases, and wrecking ecosystems.
Rats can decimate entire seabird colonies faster than you can say, “bubonic plague.” Therefore, the local Ecosystem Conservation Office is working overtime to prevent the island from turning into a rodent theme park. You have to go to Orlando for one of those!
The moment the possible rat sighting was reported, authorities sprang into action, immediately entering full-on detective mode—turning the scenic island paradise into an episode of Law and Order: SRU (Special Rodent Unit).
Wildlife officials crawled through grass, peeked under porches, and inspected the alleged scene of the crime for chew marks or droppings, but came up empty-handed. It was the first time on record that someone was disappointed by not finding rat poop.
Undeterred, officials continued their search by baiting strategically placed rat traps with peanut butter (a snack no rat—or protein-loving human—can resist) and setting up trail cameras. This time they caught… jack squat. Not even a whisker.
Ultraviolet blocks of wax, known as “chew blocks,” were placed in developed areas of St. Paul to record signature incisor bites and allow inspectors, armed with black lights, to search for freaky glowing rat droppings.
St. Paul’s next step is to import a rat-sniffing dog from the mainland—because when you’re dealing with a potential rat invasion, it’s all hands (and paws) on deck.
You might be wondering why St. Paul officials are taking this alleged rat sighting so seriously. It’s because this is not their first Rat Rodeo (which sounds absolutely adorable, by the way).
The last time a rat tourist hopped off a barge in St. Paul, it took nearly a year for wildlife authorities to locate and remove him.
That thing was avoiding traps and dodging bait like it was training for the 2028 Rat Olympics.
“We simply can’t have another rat on this island! The last time one showed up here, we dated for six months before I found out he had a secret family on the mainland.”
According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, hundreds of islands worldwide have successfully kicked rodents to the curb, including one in Alaska’s Aleutian chain that was formerly known as “Rat Island.”
The current Rat Island is on the island of Manhattan, where the average price of rent is $3,525 for a studio.
As you can imagine, rat genocide is pricey, complicated, and just plain awkward for everyone, so wildlife experts agree: preventing a rat infestation is key—even if that means scouring an entire island with peanut butter and black lights for a single rat who may or may not exist.