I wouldn't sail this ship if I were you
1. Three mice who live in a postbox, eating postcards and scrawling ‘return to sender’ in blue biro on letters whose handwriting they dislike.
2. A mouse buzzing with conspiracy theories, lives in a distillery, puts on a tiny diving suit at night to delve into the vats where she believes some great secret is held. When the distillery office is closed she wriggles under the door and logs on to gmail to send long screeds in CAPITAL LETTERS to anyone with a likely e-mail address.
3. Some number of laboratory mice, perhaps fifty, who have, by dint of peering out of their cages at nearby computer screens, taught themselves a certain amount of biology and statistics. These mice have formed a small society, dedicated to gaming the results of mouse-based experiments; they send round tiny circulars full of instructions, such as 'turn LEFT then RIGHT then RIGHT again in the maze’, or 'wait TEN minutes, then press the button TWICE and look disappointed’. Everything is memorised and then eaten. They are believed to be the true architects beneath at least twenty peer-reviewed papers.
4. The mouse who ate Wales one night, but had fortunately left full instructions such that it could be reconstructed by the morning with most of the mountains in the right place.
5. The mouse that lived under the cat’s bowl for a giddy, perilous few weeks, emerging through a small hole at night to gorge on cat food whilst the cat slept on the bed.
6. Shakespeare’s pet mouse, name unknown. It is believed that this mouse was personally responsible for the majority of 'Two Gentlemen of Verona’. The effort required in committing pen to paper (primarily at night when the bard was asleep) so tired the mouse that he slept for more than three hundred years, before briefly waking to contribute three pages to 'Under Milk Wood’. I believe he is now asleep in a willow bower somewhere North of Wenlock Edge. He will probably not write for you, so don’t try it.
7. There was a mouse who got an exceptionally high score in Tetris, largely by wriggling under the blocks as they fell to flip them over at the last moment.
8. Twenty-nine mice who, by dint of forming a large pyramid, were able to operate a monster truck; this having been their dream for some time and their reason for becoming so proficient at mouse acrobatics. Sadly the truck was soon retrieved by the police. These mice have now moved on to a flight training school, where they peer myopically from loose simulator panels and formulate exotic dreams.
9. Two hundred and forty mice in the vicinity of Bangor, Maine, who meet on Thursdays to eat butter and refine their Theory of Everything. These mice have had exceptional trouble in keeping up with the scientific literature, but are occasionally able to get printouts of papers through the post from a rogue capybara in Peru. It is a frustrating life. Certain of their number tried travelling to Harvard to attempt to sneak into conferences, but after an incident in which three mice got overexcited and tried to punch a Professor who they felt had made inappropriate remarks about the cosmological constant, they have largely kept to their own little thicket in the woods.