I would be pretty terrified to see an 8 foot long rattlesnake. I can’t really even fathom what that would look like. Think of the striking range that snake would have!
A diamondback in the rough
At last, a naturalist finds his Holy Grail: A rare rattler in remote Florida park
The eastern diamondback rattler struggles to stay alive as a species, no thanks to humans.John Serrao
April 26, 2009 6:00 AM
I don’t know what it was that suddenly brought my eyes to ground level after an hour of scanning the branches of the pines and oaks for birds along a remote trail in Florida’s vast Appalachicola National Forest. Was it the sunlight reflected off the glossy, yellowish skin? Or the wide, heavy shape stretched straight out among the thin, curving fallen branches that littered the ground? Or — most likely — the regular pattern of big, dark diamonds that extended four feet in a straight line just a few feet from my and my wife, Felicia’s, feet.
Even though I’d never seen one before, I immediately knew what the animal was, and after a glance of just a fraction of a second, I repeated three or four times in an excited but hushed voice to Felicia: “Diamondback rattlesnake!”
The eastern diamondback rattlesnake has been my “Holy Grail” — the number one item on my “bucket list” — for more than 30 years. Quite simply, it’s the biggest, most dangerous snake in the United States. A handful of snakes, including the indigo snake and our own black rat snake, may slightly exceed the diamondback’s maximum recorded length of eight feet, but none can match its sheer bulk and weight, nor the immense size of its head. I’ve seen timber rattlesnakes in the Poconos that measure 4½ feet long and 8 inches in circumference, and I can’t possible imagine an eastern diamondback rattlesnake almost twice that size.
What an impressive creature to encounter in the pine forests of Florida, Georgia or the Carolinas! But, despite countless visits to the wilderness areas of these southern states over the past three decades, including places highly recommended by other naturalists, foresters and park rangers, I’ve never seen one — until March 24, 2009, a date I’ll never forget.
After my initial shock at the sight of such a big snake just a few feet off the trail, I quickly assessed the situation. It appeared very calm and remained completely motionless, stretched out lengthwise in the sunlight. Its beautiful, yellowish-tan skin was shiny and almost iridescent, indicating that it had very recently shed it skin.
The conditions for photographing it could not have been better, and, since no people were in the forest except for Felicia and me, I could take my time and just enjoy this amazing, once-in-a-lifetime (I hope not) experience. I photographed it from every angle for at least 15 minutes, and it remained motionless.
Then, before we moved on, in order to prevent it from being detected by anyone who might harm it, I gently tapped it with a branch. This caused the rattlesnake to slowly withdraw beneath the cover of a shrub, where it coiled up to face me and began to rattle, warning me not to come any closer. It seemed both fearless and non-aggressive at the same time — an animal completely secure with its own status at the top of the food chain, with no natural enemies except humans.
Unfortunately, humans have taken a terrible toll over the years on populations of eastern diamondback rattlesnakes, just as they have with timber rattlesnakes in the northeastern states and various species of western rattlesnakes. Unbelievably, unlike our own timber rattler, the eastern diamondback enjoys no laws to protect it — no restrictions against killing, collecting, habitat destruction or the insanity of “rattlesnake roundups,” a community snake-hunting tradition started long ago by ranchers who thought rattlesnake populations were too high.
Dr. Bruce Means, the expert on this species, conducts research in the Florida Panhandle and has written extensively on its biology and population declines. I read his excellent book, “Stalking the Plumed Serpent” (Pineapple Press, Sarasota, 2008), this past winter and became even more obsessed with finally seeing an eastern diamondback in the wild after vicariously experiencing his adventures with this magnificent reptile (the first chapter, which relates a nearly fatal bite and his struggle to crawl back to civilization, is sure to raise the hairs on the back of anyone’s neck). However, Dr. Means, in a letter written to me in February, sadly informed me that the eastern diamondback rattlesnake now survives in good numbers only on a few isolated, remote barrier islands and within vast, protected wildernesses like the 500,000-acre Appalachicola National Forest.
During our 10 days in Florida, we saw 125 species of birds and almost 40 reptiles and amphibians. We saw the dusky pygmy rattlesnake; the beautiful and rare Gulf Hammock rat snake; the unusual, legless eastern glass lizard; and hundreds of butterflies of a dozen species flitting from flower to flower along the long, sandy trails. Alligators were common, including a mother with seven babies. And a big water moccasin coiled up, opened its mouth widely, and displayed its sharp, venomous fangs and famous “cottonmouth” while I photographed it.
I’m sure that all of these sightings will remain in my memory over the years, but none will be more treasured, vivid and indelible than my first experience with America’s most impressive snake, the eastern diamondback.
Let’s hope that, before it’s too late, laws will be passed to protect this relatively inoffensive reptile so that it can continue to give nature lovers unforgettable experiences in the southern pine forests of which it is such a magnificent part of the natural heritage.
JEFF DORE: Man Says Dogs Attacked Him Twice At Park