Had Any Uninvited Guests Lately?

As a bass angler's wife slid her life jacket off, her hand brushed against "something that felt funny." When she turned, she saw the 4- or 5-foot snake pictured here.

"With one giant leap, I made it to the front deck, where I almost took out my husband," she subsequently wrote on her Facebook wall.

The husband, however, characterized her movements as more like "levitating to the front of the boat."

Anyone who has been spending time on the water as of late undoubtedly has noticed these creatures once again are starting to stir. And as the temps climb now, they only will become more prolific. The good news is that, of the 7,000 to 8,000 people bitten by venomous snakes in the U.S. each year, only 5 die--so says the Center for Disease Control and Prevention.

In this case, the creature turned out to be non-venomous. That revelation was made possible by the husband who, once the wife's screaming and their dog's barking had stopped ringing in his ears, snapped some photos. He then emailed the pictures to a couple herpetologists who both identified the uninvited guest as a fox snake, which prefers coastal marshes and feeds on small rodents.

The family involved here were vacationing in the Great Lakes at the time. They'd just been fishing behind an island near Green Bay and pulled up after making a run down the shore when the snake incident occurred. The husband theorized the snake probably had hitched a ride on the splashwell by the motor before moving up on the rear deck.

It turns out this wasn't the husband's first run-in with a snake. He said many had tried to crawl onto his boat over the years, including a garter snake that found its way into his outboard motor and got sucked into the carburetor. His motor suddenly started running funny, so he took it in for repairs. Technicians found the snake strung around the inside.

I don't know about anyone else, but when I'm on the water, especially by myself, I try to remain on full alert for snakes--both in the water and in any stumps or bushes where I'm forced to dig out a lure. In similar fashion, anytime I hear a sound coming from the rear of the boat, I'm instantly looking for the source.

I don't need any surprises scaring me out of what time I otherwise might have left on this place we call earth.

An admonition to "watch your six" is as valid here as it is on the battlefield.

I invite your attention to the non-skid pad showing in the accompanying photo. I have to wonder if its presence is just a precaution or the result of someone having had an up-close-and-personal encounter with going overboard.