In Search of a Serpent

We walked, single file, along the narrow jungle path. The lowland jungles of Guatemala are teeming with life, and the night was filled with unfamiliar, sometimes eerie, sounds. We were here to catch reptiles, and Ofer, in the lead, was intently listening for the subtle rustling of snakes slithering in the foliage. Suddenly, a loud roar echoed through the darkness. Ofer stopped moving.

'Sounds like a jaguar,' I thought, 'Lonely Planet says they are out here.'

We shone our flashlights into the thick vegetation, hoping to get a glimpse of the elusive predator. Another roar, this time directly above, dispelled my hopes. High in the tree canopy ahead, was a howler monkey proclaiming his territory. We continued moving deeper into the forest. With the aid of Ofer's giant flashlight, we encountered other interesting creatures, some of them he could even name. A pair of crocodile eyes shone back at us from the shores of a small lagoon. Ofer directed me to keep my flashlight on while he circled the lagoon. I understood his plan, and I didn't like it. Last night at Finca Ixobal, I witnessed how he swiftly shed his clothes, jumped into the murky water and came out with a large frog (or toad) in his hand. Fortunately, this time the crocodile swam away before Ofer had his chance. We concluded the night's walk without sighting any other reptile; not even a frog.

"No frogs, no snakes." Ofer summarized, in a sentence that would become our mantra on this expedition.

We settled into our tent.

"Don't be discouraged," Ofer consoled me, "it will take several days for our senses to get accustomed to the new environment and enable us to see and catch something."

I fell asleep despite the loud and annoying racket of the howler monkeys in the surrounding trees.

The next morning as we walked to the Mayan ruins of Tikal we encountered many other birds and mammals that seemed unafraid in our presence. Like all tourists we were impressed by the size and height of the stone structures erected by this civilization. Unlike other tourists, when Ofer reached the top of the 50 meter temple, he approached the sheer edge, and kicked into a handstand. I thought he abandoned that practice thirty years ago.

In the afternoon we moved our camp to the shore of Lake Petén Itza. The result of the night hike was the same as the previous night.

"No frogs, no snakes."

This scenario repeated itself for several days. In the mornings we visited places of interest (to me), where Ofer amazed tourists with handstands on tall ancient structures, and at night we went into the jungle, coming out empty handed. Reluctantly, Ofer consulted his "Amphibians & Reptiles of Northern Guatemala" guide, and confirmed that during the dry season, the frogs are gone, and the snakes are mostly dormant. Our frustration scientifically confirmed, we decided to continue our nightly searches while travelling towards the highlands and visiting other famous natural attractions.

On the last day of our expedition, as we were driving down into a deep canyon, Ofer slammed on the brakes, left the stalled car in the middle of the dirt road, and jumped out of the car yelling "A snake!" The creature disappeared out of sight into the thick grass. Ofer searched for a while, and after concluding that it was gone, took the opportunity to relieve himself. As he was doing so, his trained ear and eyes caught a movement in the grass. Without hesitating, he pounced forward and came back with his pants wet, holding a furiously struggling snake by its tail. I instinctively moved away. I saw a green triangular head, and the words Green Mamba, rang alarm bells in my head.

"Is it poisonous?" I asked.

"I am ninety-five percent sure it is not," Ofer answered while staying focused on the snake's attempts to double up and bite his hand, "and Green Mambas live only in Africa."

Not satisfied with these odds, I kept my distance. Slowly the snake relaxed and allowed Ofer to place it in a plastic bag, and retrieve his guide book. We had a Bronze-Backed Parrot Snake. It is one of the few diurnal species in Guatemala. I also relaxed, and admired the serpent's long, colorful body.

At the bottom of the canyon was Semuc Champey. We could not find a more wonderful place to celebrate Ofer's success. After a refreshing dip in the blue pools, and a couple of beers in the laid-back jungle hostel, we photographed our green companion and released it back to the jungle.

In total, we spent a week in the jungle, and caught one snake.

"It was worth it," Ofer concluded, "I never caught this kind before."