A sailor and a snake give each other the shivers
Issue 106 : Jan/Feb 2016
Shortly after Speedwell had been relaunched following a few weeks on the hard at Young’s Boatyard in Jones Creek, just off the Patapsco River in Chesapeake Bay, I was anchored in a quiet spot nearby, re-rigging the sail before crossing to the Eastern Shore.
One morning, I decided to give the deck a quick wash-down. I lifted the bucket from its place at the stern, planning to lower it over the side to fill it with water. Imagine my horror when I discovered a large and ominously patterned snake coiled up in what it had assumed to be a secluded spot under said bucket. We both reacted in shock. The snake slithered to a new refuge a short way away; I simply froze. I frantically tried to retrieve mental images of all the deadly venomous snakes I had ever seen in life or in pictures. Was it about to blind me with a well-aimed shot of venomous spit or would it prefer a direct strike? On the other hand, it didn’t look very aggressive and I had to admit that it was actually rather pretty. A delicate forked tongue flickered curiously about and a sharp, beady black eye observed me warily.
I replaced the bucket and the snake obligingly returned to its previous lair. What to do? It seemed content to stay where it was. I went below to fetch my camera, thinking that, if I had a picture of it, the medics would know which anti-venom to administer if things turned out badly. I carefully lifted the bucket again. This time the snake stayed where it was and I was able to get a good photo of it. I kept an eye on it as I pondered. Once before, in Brazil, I had managed to remove a much smaller snake by covering it with an inverted plastic bowl and sliding a thin chopping board underneath. Then, we were tied to a dock and it was possible to carry it ashore like that and release it in the bush.
With the bucket safely back in place, I searched about and found a bowl that looked big enough, removed the bucket carefully, and plopped the inverted plastic bowl on top of the coiled snake. It did not like that and started striking the sides of the bowl in an excited and desperate effort to escape. The bowl was transparent enough for me to watch it. I put a heavy pot on top of the bowl to hold it down and went below with my camera, hoping to identify the poor thing. It was a hot day. I worried that it might get overheated in its personal greenhouse.
As luck would have it, I had recently succumbed and bought a prepaid phone that gave me Internet access. By Googling “Chesapeake snakes,” I quickly found an image that exactly matched my invader. It was an eastern garter snake and supposedly harmless. I felt a bit more confident about trying to maneuver it overboard.
The snake was in an awkward spot. There was no room for me to simply slide it over the side and back into the water. I had to assume that it must be a good swimmer. How else could it have come aboard? Nervously, I tried to slide a thin sheet of stiff plastic under both snake and bowl. Whoops! Oh no! It managed to squeeze out and sped along the sidedeck. It was nearly 4 feet long, I estimated. I watched fearfully, terrified that it might find its way below and take up permanent residence. But — happy day — it chose to escape back into the creek through one of the scuppers and swam sinuously off. My relief was exquisite.
Shirley Carter sailed away from Cape Town, South Africa, in March 2002 on Speedwell of Hong Kong, a 25-foot Laurent Giles Vertue, a wooden boat built in 1952. Two years later, she fiberglassed the hull and converted Speedwell to a junk rig. Shirley lives aboard and cruises singlehanded. Her travels have taken her up and down the coasts of North and South America.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
