Mid-August 2016
A green garter snake on our steps
Time is a weird paradox. At once it is flying by all too quickly and at the same time, it is frozen.
One hour blends into the next, one day into another. We looked at a calendar the other day (We needed to know what day of the week it was. I forget why.) and discovered that we were in mid-August.
How did that happen? We just got here, but we’ve been here a life time.
We are at the end of the rainy season. By mid-August, the storms go away, the sky returns to its normal cerulean blue and the Caribbean its normal clear turquoise.
After days at a time with fierce tropical storms marching over us, the weather lightened. The wind died down, making it uncomfortably hot, and we again spent a lot of time swimming.
As I write this, the rain is coming down so hard I can’t hear the surf crashing on the beach. I don’t know how heavy the waves are because I can’t see the beach, some hundred feet away. Lightning and thunder are almost simultaneous, meaning that they are right on top of us. The dogs are curled at my feet (because Dawn has gone into town) seeking comfort.
After several days of nice weather, the tropical storms are back with a vengeance. This is by far the hardest it’s rained since we’ve been here. Remember the scene in Romancing the Stone where Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner are in the drenching storm and end up sliding down the hill? That’s nothing compared to what we have today.
The floors in the house are all flooded with water. It’s coming down so hard and fast that the roof can’t channel it off and it works its way into the house.
But I’m not here to talk about the weather. What could be more boring? Today we’re going on an Indiana Penn adventure. (Queue up the Indiana Jones theme song here.)
In the first scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark, we hear Indy say, “I hate snakes.” Well, he better not come here
I’ve told you about the little (and not so little) garter snakes we find in the yard and Peanut’s predilection for hunting snakes. Joyce told us that she wants the dogs in at night. She doesn’t want to expose them to night predators.
One hour blends into the next, one day into another. We looked at a calendar the other day (We needed to know what day of the week it was. I forget why.) and discovered that we were in mid-August.
How did that happen? We just got here, but we’ve been here a life time.
We are at the end of the rainy season. By mid-August, the storms go away, the sky returns to its normal cerulean blue and the Caribbean its normal clear turquoise.
After days at a time with fierce tropical storms marching over us, the weather lightened. The wind died down, making it uncomfortably hot, and we again spent a lot of time swimming.
As I write this, the rain is coming down so hard I can’t hear the surf crashing on the beach. I don’t know how heavy the waves are because I can’t see the beach, some hundred feet away. Lightning and thunder are almost simultaneous, meaning that they are right on top of us. The dogs are curled at my feet (because Dawn has gone into town) seeking comfort.
After several days of nice weather, the tropical storms are back with a vengeance. This is by far the hardest it’s rained since we’ve been here. Remember the scene in Romancing the Stone where Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner are in the drenching storm and end up sliding down the hill? That’s nothing compared to what we have today.
The floors in the house are all flooded with water. It’s coming down so hard and fast that the roof can’t channel it off and it works its way into the house.
But I’m not here to talk about the weather. What could be more boring? Today we’re going on an Indiana Penn adventure. (Queue up the Indiana Jones theme song here.)
In the first scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark, we hear Indy say, “I hate snakes.” Well, he better not come here
I’ve told you about the little (and not so little) garter snakes we find in the yard and Peanut’s predilection for hunting snakes. Joyce told us that she wants the dogs in at night. She doesn’t want to expose them to night predators.
A baby boa in the back yard Today, we meet a couple of those predators.
The day before yesterday, Dawn shook me awake with “Penn, there’s a snake in the bedroom.”
I piled out of bed, put on my slippers and dragged myself to survey the situation. Dawn is no fonder of snakes than she is of spiders.
Big deal. A little garter snake made its way into the house. Peanut could take care of that for us.
“Where is it,” I slurred, not quite yet awake.
“Right there!” Dawn screeched. She must have thought I lost my mind being so lackadaisical about this emergency. She always complains that I have no sense of urgency.
I turned to see where she was pointing. Holy Shit! A monster snake was in the hallway happily munching down on the cat food.
The snake was about six feet long. (By the time I see you and tell you this story in person, it will be a twenty-five foot long anaconda.) What kind of snake was it?
Was it poisonous?
It saw me and didn’t coil up like it was ready to strike. Maybe it was a nice snake.
I tiptoed delicately around the snake to get some weaponry with which to remove it. Dawn refused to walk down the hallway, so she went outside, down the stairs and up the stairs into the main house.
The day before yesterday, Dawn shook me awake with “Penn, there’s a snake in the bedroom.”
I piled out of bed, put on my slippers and dragged myself to survey the situation. Dawn is no fonder of snakes than she is of spiders.
Big deal. A little garter snake made its way into the house. Peanut could take care of that for us.
“Where is it,” I slurred, not quite yet awake.
“Right there!” Dawn screeched. She must have thought I lost my mind being so lackadaisical about this emergency. She always complains that I have no sense of urgency.
I turned to see where she was pointing. Holy Shit! A monster snake was in the hallway happily munching down on the cat food.
The snake was about six feet long. (By the time I see you and tell you this story in person, it will be a twenty-five foot long anaconda.) What kind of snake was it?
Was it poisonous?
It saw me and didn’t coil up like it was ready to strike. Maybe it was a nice snake.
I tiptoed delicately around the snake to get some weaponry with which to remove it. Dawn refused to walk down the hallway, so she went outside, down the stairs and up the stairs into the main house.
Cesar's terciopelo
I thought about all the Wild Kingdoms that I watched as a child. Marlon Perkins always had a long forked stick with which to trap the snake. Then he picked it up at the back of the head to keep it from biting him.
Okay, where can I find a long stick with a Y-shaped end? How about a broom? The bristles on the broom should be stiff enough to keep the snake from getting away.
Am I nuts? I want the snake to get away, out of the house. It might not be a good idea to scare the snake and have it hide in the mattress or climb into the rafters.
I formulated my plan of attack. I’d sneak up on the snake from behind. It was about halfway into the hallway and the other half in the bathroom. I’d pin it down with the broom, grab it behind the head and toss it back into the yard. No sense harming the creature.
By now you should know how my plans usually work out. I don’t know why I do these things. They seem perfectly logical at the time, but in hind sight, I think I must be insane.
Time for action. I pinned the snake down with the broom, about six inches back from its head. It didn’t like that very much.
It turned and twisted its head to attack whatever was holding it down. In the adrenaline rush of the moment, I decided to grab it a little further back, where its sharp fangs couldn’t reach me.
I grabbed the snake about an inch behind its head with my left hand. (I was holding the broom with my right. Who knew snakes were so flexible? It immediately turned and bit me. I was a little worried. I didn’t think it had time to inject any venom into my hand because I moved so fast (Dawn, about that sense of urgency?) transferring it to my right hand. Not a real good idea.
As I got a hold of the snake with my right hand, it turned and bit me three more times.
While all of this was happening, I was racing for the door. By the time I’d gotten the fourth bite, I gave the snake a strong toss into the back yard. The snake hit the ground and quickly slithered into the bushes.
My heart was threatening to burst out of my chest. I slunk down on the bed, looked at my bloody hand and had time to think.
Was the snake poisonous? I was soooooo stupid not to have considered that before my ill-advised adventure. Now, in the wake of the tragedy, I was worried.
The snake was about six feet long, smooth and black all over. It had a wicked looking head with a white mouth. Its scales felt like an expensive handbag. I was amazed at how strong the snake was as he curled around my arm.
Continuing my bout of stupidity, I ran to the main house to get the book about snakes. I’ve had enough first aid training to get an MD license. I thought back on how to treat snake bites. Put a tourniquet on the limb to restrict blood flow and elevate it. Cut a channel between the fang marks with a razor or sharp knife. Suck the poison and spit it out. Seek medical attention as soon as possible, but most of all KEEP CALM. A racing heart moves the toxin to the heart faster.
I think that by now, you have an idea how remote we are. If I had to go to the emergency room, I’d have to drive forty-five minutes into town. The emergency doctor would look at me and call for a med-evac. The chopper would fly from Panama City, about an hour’s flight then take me to the hospital in David, another hour. It the three or four hours all of this would take, I’d be dead
The snake book was no help. I don’t know if it has all the snakes in the world, but there are hundreds of pictures of them. I couldn’t find the snake I had just battled in the book.
Cesar had shown us a baby boa a couple of weeks ago and Peanut had eaten one. This snake looked a lot like the juveniles.
I guessed it wasn’t poisonous. I cleaned my wounds with alcohol and went about my business.
For the next hour or so, I constantly watched my hands. The holes didn’t burn. They weren’t turning black. I thought I’d be okay.
We drove over to Jim and Frances’s house to borrow their Internet connection. Jim looked at the wound and said “I’m glad you’re still with us, dude. If it was poisonous, you’d know by now.”
He meant I would be dead.
Was that a long story? We ain’t done yet.
Okay, where can I find a long stick with a Y-shaped end? How about a broom? The bristles on the broom should be stiff enough to keep the snake from getting away.
Am I nuts? I want the snake to get away, out of the house. It might not be a good idea to scare the snake and have it hide in the mattress or climb into the rafters.
I formulated my plan of attack. I’d sneak up on the snake from behind. It was about halfway into the hallway and the other half in the bathroom. I’d pin it down with the broom, grab it behind the head and toss it back into the yard. No sense harming the creature.
By now you should know how my plans usually work out. I don’t know why I do these things. They seem perfectly logical at the time, but in hind sight, I think I must be insane.
Time for action. I pinned the snake down with the broom, about six inches back from its head. It didn’t like that very much.
It turned and twisted its head to attack whatever was holding it down. In the adrenaline rush of the moment, I decided to grab it a little further back, where its sharp fangs couldn’t reach me.
I grabbed the snake about an inch behind its head with my left hand. (I was holding the broom with my right. Who knew snakes were so flexible? It immediately turned and bit me. I was a little worried. I didn’t think it had time to inject any venom into my hand because I moved so fast (Dawn, about that sense of urgency?) transferring it to my right hand. Not a real good idea.
As I got a hold of the snake with my right hand, it turned and bit me three more times.
While all of this was happening, I was racing for the door. By the time I’d gotten the fourth bite, I gave the snake a strong toss into the back yard. The snake hit the ground and quickly slithered into the bushes.
My heart was threatening to burst out of my chest. I slunk down on the bed, looked at my bloody hand and had time to think.
Was the snake poisonous? I was soooooo stupid not to have considered that before my ill-advised adventure. Now, in the wake of the tragedy, I was worried.
The snake was about six feet long, smooth and black all over. It had a wicked looking head with a white mouth. Its scales felt like an expensive handbag. I was amazed at how strong the snake was as he curled around my arm.
Continuing my bout of stupidity, I ran to the main house to get the book about snakes. I’ve had enough first aid training to get an MD license. I thought back on how to treat snake bites. Put a tourniquet on the limb to restrict blood flow and elevate it. Cut a channel between the fang marks with a razor or sharp knife. Suck the poison and spit it out. Seek medical attention as soon as possible, but most of all KEEP CALM. A racing heart moves the toxin to the heart faster.
I think that by now, you have an idea how remote we are. If I had to go to the emergency room, I’d have to drive forty-five minutes into town. The emergency doctor would look at me and call for a med-evac. The chopper would fly from Panama City, about an hour’s flight then take me to the hospital in David, another hour. It the three or four hours all of this would take, I’d be dead
The snake book was no help. I don’t know if it has all the snakes in the world, but there are hundreds of pictures of them. I couldn’t find the snake I had just battled in the book.
Cesar had shown us a baby boa a couple of weeks ago and Peanut had eaten one. This snake looked a lot like the juveniles.
I guessed it wasn’t poisonous. I cleaned my wounds with alcohol and went about my business.
For the next hour or so, I constantly watched my hands. The holes didn’t burn. They weren’t turning black. I thought I’d be okay.
We drove over to Jim and Frances’s house to borrow their Internet connection. Jim looked at the wound and said “I’m glad you’re still with us, dude. If it was poisonous, you’d know by now.”
He meant I would be dead.
Was that a long story? We ain’t done yet.
Cesar's latest trophy
Yesterday, I was laying in bed deciding whether or not I wanted to get up when Dawn came charging into the room.
“Get up right now. Cesar has something he wants to show you.”
I struggled to my feet, pulled on a pair of shorts and headed to the main house.
“VICTOR!” Cesar yelled. (In Spanish speaking countries I go by Victor because no one can pronounce Penn.) “Mato una vivra.”
He stood with a long, wide snake handing from his machete.
“It is very dangerous. It bites you and you are dead.”
“Where did you find it,” I asked.
“In the yard, by the drive way. I was chop, chop the road (this means he was cutting the brush with his machete) when cuebra (snake) jumped up at me.” He gestured with his hands showing that the snake had leapt straight up so that its head was at his eye level. He pantomimed his fight.
“I stagger back a couple of steps.” (You have to understand that I’m translating his Spanish. He doesn’t talk in this polished manner.) “He is in the air, looking at me. This is very dangerous snake. I take two steps back and go swish with my machete.” He pantomimes swinging the machete. “And take off his head.”
We found this bad boy in the snake book. This was no harmless boa. It was the most dangerous snake in Central America, a terciopelo. These snakes are extremely poisonous. If you don’t receive medical treatment immediately, you die. Our book says that the terciopelo is responsible for ninety percent of all serious snake bites in Central and South America.
He laid the dead snake on the ground and we examined it more closely. It was much thicker around than my boa from the day before and maybe a little longer. It was kind of strange. The body was thick right up to the tail, then a thin tail exited the snake and left a kind of uneven back side. It was dark brown with white markings that made X on its back and a white underbelly.
He told us the story about how his daughter was bitten by one of these snakes and air-lifted to the hospital in David (remember, that’s pronounced Dah-veed). She was in the hospital for two weeks before she was released.
Poor Cesar’s heart was going super-sonic. He was breathing hard and shaking. I couldn’t tell if he was suffering the after affects of the adrenaline rush or going into shock.
I decided that he’d had enough for one day. I told him to take the rest of the day off to recover from his ordeal and Dawn drove him home.
So, what happened to the snake?
I'm guessing that he went into the pot for Cesar's dinner. They don't waste anything around here.
Now we turn on the lights and check it for snakes before entering the room.
RSS Feed