If you've ever spent time on Back Bay waters, you probably have seen a cottonmouth or two. Just ask my kayak buddy, Charlie Bruggemann. You probably remember the occasion from Oct. 23, 2017, when he happened upon a couple of monster cottonmouths fighting for territory and mating rights in Back Bay. Here's his link to that video, which shows some of the "arm wrestling" contest, including the final "pin to the mat" by the bigger snake: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8qRvnbokfVg.
I also ran across an account of a Virginia Department of Environmental Quality agent who was testing the Back Bay water when he spotted a cottonmouth heading toward his boat. He didn't figure the snake had any harmful intent but started backing away from it, just to be safe.
"Given how comfortable cottonmouths are in the water, messing with one of them--even out in the middle of a lake--is a bad idea," according to Dr. David Steen of Auburn University. "Still, one of the reptiles will run through a list of threatening tactics before it resorts to biting. In addition to flashing its white mouth, the cottonmouth will shake its tail rapidly to make a warning noise (common in many snakes, even the ones without rattles), and emit a nasty-smelling musk.
"If a cottonmouth doesn't think you're getting the message to leave it alone," continued Steen, "it may very well resort to biting, and like its sister species, the copperhead, this is a dangerously venomous snake. But avoiding a trip to the hospital is simpler than you might think.
"Many, if not most, snake bites happen when people try to mess with the serpents," Steen cautioned. "Don't do that, and your chance of a snake bit falls to virtually zero."
Of course, there are times when you end up in a closer encounter with one of these creatures than you had planned. Take this incident, for example.
Seems there were these two guys (Gil and Paul were their names) fishing in the shade of giant, ancient cypress trees lining the banks of their favorite lake. It was a hot-weather tournament, and the cool shade was a welcomed side benefit of fishing for their prey.
Paul just had commented to Gil to be watchful and wary of "those long, skinny, tree-climbing water moccasins" that were common in their water. He barely had gotten those words out of his mouth before a 4-foot moccasin fell into the front of the boat where Paul was sitting.
He later would admit to instantly squealing like a little girl and vaulting to the back of the boat, where Gil was. "And darn, if that snake didn't follow me," said Paul. "It was staring straight at us and was in a striking posture. The thing had us treed. We couldn't go back any farther in the boat without getting wet.
"Finally, we gathered ourselves, looked around to see if anyone was watching, and together, using a dipnet and a jig pole, we were able to chase the snake over the side of the boat," said Paul. "We then went back to fishing in dead silence.
"After a couple of minutes, though, Gil said, 'Man, I sure hope nobody saw that.'"
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