A Not-So-Funny Thing Happened to Me This Morning

A 3- or 4-foot water snake, similar to this one, greeted me as I raised the door to my boat-storage building at West Neck Marina. He was all stretched out under the tongue of my trailer until he saw me, then turned and high-tailed it toward the back of the building.

As luck would have it, this was a morning when Steve still was on the premises, so I went and told him about my unwanted visitor. His response was quick and decisive. He grabbed a shovel from the bed of his pickup, hopped on the golf cart, and went to confront the snake, which still was in plain view at the back of the building.

His first thrust with the shovel missed its intended target--the snake's head--but sunk into its back. While keeping the snake pinned to the ground, Steve reached for a piece of 4 x 4 I had at the back of the shed, and, on about the third or fourth swing, connected with his original target. He then scooped up the orange-bellied critter on the shovel and carried him away for disposal.

As I was watching this evolution unfold, I was reminded of an early morning venture many years ago when I had come in close contact with another one of these water snakes. I was throwing a Jitterbug just before daybreak and was dragging it back from a long, narrow cut, when I spotted something following the bait. I momentarily stopped retrieving the lure, and whatever "it" was stopped, too, but when I resumed the retrieve, "it" started following again, as well. Once "it" got closer to the boat, I saw enough of the tell-tale orange in what light there was to know what I was dealing with but wasn't sure what I should do.

By now, the lure was close enough I could snatch it from the water with the rod, which is what I did. Instead of waiting to see what the snake was going to do, though, I brought the lure back down and slapped the water with it, hoping to scare the snake away. At the same instant, the snake moved--directly into the path of the Jitterbug, and both trebles found their way into his hide. I spent the next several minutes literally "beating the snake to death" by repeatedly slamming him against the water's surface. Eventually, both hooks tore out, but he already had given up the ghost.

It's nothing new to find various creatures (notably frogs and lizards) moving around in my boat-storage building, but I'm hoping today's run-in with a snake marks the fist--and last--such encounter. You can bet I won't soon forget this experience. I say again, "I don't like surprises."