Let me tell you about my moles. When I purchased this unique property back in 1994 the lawns were a mess. There were mole hills everywhere, it was impossible to contemplate grass cutting without first laboriously removing the piles of soil with a wheelbarrow and shovel. Without doubt they had to go, but I had no idea of how to rid the garden of moles so I decided to seek some advice.

A wise old Keeper told me to buy some traps. A less informed relation pooh-poohed the Keepers advice “A waste of time, they don’t work. Get some mole fuses.” He instructed. The mole fuses were tracked down and purchased, the instructions were carefully followed and the fizzing charges were placed in the mole runs. Did they work? - They did not, and several newly formed mole hills were proof of their failure.

“Get some traps.” said the Keeper, when I told my tale. Now in truth, I was about to buy some traps as instructed, when the ancient pipe that ran underground from the oil tank to the boiler gave up the ghost and burst. Fortunately, the tank was low and due to be refilled in the next day or so, but nevertheless several gallons of expensive heating oil percolated through the subsoil and into the well. The burst pipe and a restock of oil were easily resolved, but what to do with all the oily water in my well? A wicked idea came to mind and I could almost feel little devil horns sprouting from my temples as I contemplated the ravaged lawn, but I pushed my conscience behind me and fetched a pump. I pushed the delivery hose into the nearest mole run dropped the suction hose in the well and started the engine. Within minutes little fountains of water began to appear all over the lawn – surely that would drive them out. No, you’re right, it didn’t. It took days to rid the garden of the smell of oil, and the moles? Well they just shrugged off their diving bottles and carried on heaping the soil, as moles do.

“Get some traps” said the Keeper. I was about to follow his advice when Bob the handy man arrived in his old van. “Going to smoke ‘em out” he explained as he connected one end of a length of hose to the exhaust pipe of the vehicle and shoved the other end in the mole run. He started the engine and we waited. After an hour or so it was difficult to see from one side of the lawn to the other - a thick pea-souper of exhaust fumes hovered above the lawn. “That should do it” he said as he disconnected the pipes and departed. No, (you’ve got the general idea by now, haven’t you?) it didn’t. The moles, untroubled by the attack, removed their gas masks and continued to reshape my little part of the Forest.

“I’ve told you, - get some traps” barked the Keeper. At that moment my relation, (yes, he of the mole fuse episode) arrived armed with a dozen or so toy windmills; you’ll know them, a length of cane with four plastic veins on the top.

“Just read somewhere that if you stick these in the lawn the vibrations from the windmill going round will travel down the cane and drive the moles away” He explained. The Keeper glared at him and said something that I cannot repeat and took his leave. We stuck the windmills in the lawn and when finished, it resembled a mini wind farm and then we waited. The dogs didn’t wait however, they soon found them; they plucked them from the ground and charged around the garden with the windmills spinning from their mouths. Needless to say these frail toys did not survive for long but the moles did. Then one morning, soon after, I had just stepped out of the shower when I noticed that one of the moles was actually working and the hill under which he was digging was growing at an incredible rate. Without further ado I threw a towel around my waist, some slippers on my feet and tucked a shotgun under my arm. I crept up to the rapidly expanding mole hill and prepared to blast it. No, I didn’t shoot the mole, and I didn’t really expect to. It had detected my approach and ‘done a runner’ or whatever moles do, but the loosely attached towel did fall off and left me exposed, clad only in a shotgun and a pair of carpet slippers. So, you can guess what I did, after that is, donning some more suitable clothing, I went and bought some traps and with some help from my friend the Keeper I caught four moles in no time at all and thus solved my problem. Over the years I have caught many more moles for others by this method, which just goes to show that it pays to take counsel from those who should know.

Keep your Keeper sweet! Ian Thew

Next week Ian report on how the New Forest National Park is noted for its many diverse habitats, not least of which are its rare wetlands which are considered to be some of the most important in Europe.