Ghost Hunters, Part IV

Originally posted on Audubon Guides on July 16th, 2012

My companions take the first step into the duckweed (Lemna valdiviana) covered muck. It stirs slightly and closes back in over the black water as they wade out into the slough. “Something moved in the water” one of them says. “Probably a snake”. I’ve seen Cottonmouths (Agkistrodon piscivorus) out here in the past, most notably one that bobbed to the surface after I stepped on it. They can inject venom with an underwater bite. I got lucky. We carry sticks for balance, to probe the water depth and to check for critters. We can’t dismiss the American Alligator (Alligator mississippiensis) either. We believe there’s not enough food for an alligator out here yet. At least that’s what we’re telling ourselves.

With each step we look a few feet above us. Ghost Orchids are leafless plants that have recognizable green-white cord like roots that radiate from a center point. They typically grow 6-10 feet above the water on Pop Ash and Pond Apples which provide excellent cover and trap the perfect amount of humidity for these epiphytes to thrive.

My one mistake of the day sets me on edge for the rest of it. As I wade into deeper water I sidestep an unseen fallen branch at my feet. I plunge from knee depth to hip deep in a second and suddenly my cameras, which I've raised over my head are not my biggest concern. I safely scramble onto a dry island and consider the importance of my walking stick.

I pick up the “trail” – a loose separation of duckweed that my companions have slogged through and continue hip deep at a cautious pace. They have found the first Ghost, a double with two blooms floating to either side of the host tree trunk.

The decision is made to check the edges of the slough as the plants in the middle seem to have bloomed early. I gratefully make my way out of the deep water as my shoes make one last sucking gasp as the mud releases them. Two year ago we found four Ghosts in another slough. Suddenly we were surrounded by them. Several were just blooming, some wilting and others in full resplendent glory. We found singles, doubles and one triple blossom plant – 22 all told.

Ghost Orchid twins © Pete Corradino

As I wrap my head around our good fortune I hear whispers. Babbling sounds from the center of the swamp. Am I imagining this? It sounds like people but we are out in the middle of nowhere. After a few moments, three strangers make their way across the slough and beam in on a flower their GPS has led them to. We introduced ourselves and left them to their work. That’s when we found this beautiful “triple” double, a double blossom with a single blossom growing from a neighboring plant. Beautiful.

After all of that, I’m afraid it’s time to head back the way we came in. 

Don't Tread on Me - The Cottonmouth

Americans drive a lot. Every year we build new roads and expand old ones. Wildlife is always in danger and the need for rescue is constant. Where the rubber meets the road, there is often a critter in between.

I make no judgments when a rescue is required. My safety is the number one priority. Getting the animal to safety is number two regardless of the species. There are times when my safety involves more than dodging traffic. The wildlife that is injured, stranded, trapped, etc. usually does not understand your intentions and can make the situation more difficult. Such was the case when a Cottonmouth (Agkistrodon piscivorus) made the proverbial “crossing of the road”.

Turtles are easy. Pick them up by the shell in front of each rear leg, carry them in the direction they were heading and place them far off the road. (Snapping Turtles and Softshell Turtles require a gentle grab by the tail and with arm fully extended away from your body, to bring them to safety).

When it comes to a venomous reptile, the plan changes. As I approach the snake in the road, it coils in defense as Cottonmouths do. It’s not helping. The approaching traffic spots me waving them into the other lane and had I not stood in the road they would have surely run the snake over. A car stops and asks if I need help. I explain I’m trying to shoo the snake off the road. Thoughtfully and with a twang reminiscent of a character from Deliverance, the driver points out that it’s a “ven-mus snake and it’ll bite cha!” He drives around.

The snake heads east, changes its mind and heads west. I carefully move to the opposite lane and direct more traffic around. A driver shakes his head. The snake slides off the pavement and into the grass, safe for now.

Certainly encounters with venomous snakes require caution, but out on the roads there is no question who is the more dangerous species.

Survivalman 2: Return to the Fakahatchee

Sequels never live up to the original but when it comes to my adventures with Mike in the Fakahatchee Strand of the Everglades, how can things not improve over the tale of survival from August of 2007?

Mike emailed me a few weeks ago and said he was heading down from Vermont and wanted to face his fears in the Fakahatchee. We had planned on meeting last year to search for 2 rare ferns in the 80,000 acre wilderness and instead he spent a rain-soaked night in the Everglades, listening to bellowing alligators and fearing the consequences of drinking water filtered through his own shirt. It was a life or death experience and now he was hoping to put that nightmare in the past and finally get to searching for the rare ferns we had hoped to find a year ago.

South Florida Jane's Scenic Drive in the Fakahatchee Strand State Park Our 3/10 miles bushwhack GPS track to "the pond" Jane's Scenic Drive

For most people - an invitation to walk knee deep in tannin-stained waters in a remote Everglades swamp with mosquitoes, high heat and humidity and a clausterphobically dense forest would be met with a resounding "no", but with a name like JunglePete, I have to say yes. Our plan was to bushwhack 3/10 of a mile to a pond where 2 rare ferns have been reported. This is no easy task. MaLe and I attempted a similar hike last year during the drought and the tangles of vines, briers, poison ivy and all around thick vegetation make any forward movement a momentous struggle. It took us 2 hours to go 1/2 miles.

Mike was waiting for me when I arrived at teh Ranger station and we drove out the 9 miles to the "trailhead". With cameras, gps, water and Mike's compass we set off for the pond. When Mike asked if I was ready I hesitantly agreed and stepped into 2 feet of surprisingly cool water. It was 9 am. Our judgement will no doubt be called into question when I point out the Water Moccasin pictured below. The snake held its ground before retreating a slow slither back into a rotted out cypress stump. We were well aware of all the dangers and were vigilant in watching every step. This place is truly the land of the lost. Pop Ash, Maples and Pond Apples are well adorned with bromiliads, orchids and vines. Every root, branch and tree trunk is a place for a fern, mushroom or flower to grow. There is little open space as everything competes to survive.

After an hour of slogging through ankle deep water, I paused to look around, giving our second Water Moccasin a chance to slither between the two of us. I shouted an expletive, jumped backwards and watched it swim into a small cypress hammock. My heart racing, I quickly and carefully waded up to Mike. After 90 minutes we began to hear the bellowing of alligators coming from the pond - loud territorial growls intended to keep us at bay. Had any of these alligators ever seen a human before? It's possible they hadn't but like any well behaved alligator, they took to the water and ceased their grumbling. The age old question is answered below. Bears do poop in the woods. That was one big turd. After 4 hours of listening to buzzing, swatting at bugs and sweating through my long-sleeved shirt, I was exhausted. The search for our ferns had been unsuccessful and torn and tattered we began to head back through the tangle of trees. My safari tour hat has suffered greatly - here appearing bent, soaked and dirty. As we dragged ourselves back through the swamp, Mike shouted out. This was something I had gotten used to, but was never sure if it was for a wild animal, a poisonous plant or an exclamation of joy. It turns out that after giving up, we had accidentally stumbled on the rare "Bird's Nest Fern". It looks similar to the common Strap Fern with a few subtle differences. To the common person it no doubt looks like any other green leaf and I wouldn't expect the image of it to change readers world. But after 4+ hours of searching it was truly exciting for us. Thoroughly pleased, we continued on and had just gotten under way when Mike said "Wait - here it is". And there it was - our 2nd rare fern species. An unassuming little thing that even I thought looked like every other green leafy thing. There is a great wilderness here and there can be little doubt that there are other rare species if not completely new species of ferns, flowers, insects and other living things. I wondered how such things could be found. We might have passed over something unknown. Mike said to me later - "You see what you know". Everything else is a mystery to be solved and something new to learn.

Mike suggested he couldn't have gotten anyone else willing to share that experience. You have to be a little nuts. But I couldn't be happier to have had the 2nd chance to get back out there. I'd say the sequel was much better.

Beware of Pygmies - Snake, Rattle and Roll

There are four venomous snakes that are found in the Everglades. Most common is the Water Moccasin (Cottonmouth). Largest is the Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake. Most uncommon is the Coral Snake and the venomous snake most likely to bite someone? The Pygmy Rattlesnake. I hiked into the Okaloacoochee Slough on Saturday in search of whatever might be around. The water is low, but still up enough that I'd have to wade wherever I might go and the temperature is in the upper 80's. Low enough that snakes might be basking today and just my luck, I came across my 2nd Pygmy in the wild.

The last time I saw one of these in the wild was 1999 on tour. It was crossing the dirt road in the Preserve and I jumped out of the van to stop the snake from slithering off. I realized that I had not put the van in neutral when I looked up and saw the van rolling towards me with 11 terrified tourists watching. This was a little less stressful.

I do worry about these. They only get up to 30 inches long - so quite small and they have a wee little rattle, so they sound like a buzzing insect - not the warning necessary to keep a human from stepping on them. And because this warning system is so poorly designed, they rely on their venomous bite as a last defense - thus the high incidence of bites in Florida.

I kept my distance, but was able to get close enough to get a good look at the pattern down the back. Beautiful colors.

They're fairly quick, but when they are strung out like this, they don't have the ability to strike like they might if they were coiled up. It would be like putting your fist in someone's face with arm outstretched and trying to hit them. Try this now on someone. I'll wait.

Here you can see the classic triangular shaped head that most venomous snakes have. Water snakes will flatten their head and mimic a venomous snake, but here the shape is quite obviously distinctive. These facial pits that create the triangular shape allow them to pick up heat signatures - seen as infrared light - and allows them to track prey. They actually will coil up and wait for anoles, frogs or other cold blooded critters to come by. If they're close enough, they strike, inject venom and wait for their prey to die. They then track them and eat them.

If the snake were to bite someone, it couldn't give enough venom to kill unless you were on your deathbed and deathbeds are not their preferred habitat. If it's a defensive bite - they might not inject any venom or at least less than a hunting bite. You would need treatment just in case. The venom affects the blood causing necrotic tissue. Anti-venom prevents the tissue destruction

In case you thought "pygmy" was a misnomer - the snake is in fact small as you can see here. And where's the rattle! It's virtually non-existent. The rattle is made of several hollowed out "buttons" or scales from their tail - but on pygmies it's tiny.

A hunter came up as I was taking pictures and decided to "inform" me of the natural history of Pygmies. I guess I looked like a tourist with my camera. "You need one of those big cameras" he said before tromping off into the swamp to kill something.