Suddenly a snake
As a regular hiker down at Cape Point over the last few years, as well as enjoying beach walks in the pursuit of rare birds that turn up along the coast from time to time, it has always been surprising that I have not ever seen a snake in the Reserve. This week’s foray in search of the vagrant American Golden Plover on the rocks at Platboom sorted that out! The large flat rocks that make up the shoreline below the sandy shore make it easy to access the exposed rounded boulders at low tide, and a casual hop from one to another can cover a fair distance in no time. While my son was 50m away, scanning intently for the bird, I was walking up a gulley between two large sections of flat rock. Pieces of dried kelp were scattered everywhere, swept across the rocks in heavy seas and left behind by the ebbing tide to remain trapped on higher ground, drying in twisted, dull strands.
Suddenly, about 2 metres in front of me, I saw a shiny piece of kelp in a sunny spot, with part of it in the shadow of a rocky ledge. It didn’t take 10 seconds to register that I was at the front end of a large snake – not the place I would have expected to see one – and I quickly jumped up onto the next level of rocks. It was very dark and my first thought was molesnake. Growing up on the mountainside in Clovelly meant frequent interactions with snakes as a child, and it definitely wasn’t a puffadder, but didn’t look anything like the golden Cape Cobra that lived in our garden (and still does). I stepped to the edge and peered down. The scales and skin around the neck were loose, a hood ready to spread, and the diamond shape of the head made me fairly sure it was a cobra, although the dark colouring had me confused. A golden speckling was also an identifying factor, I was later informed. It had moved slightly and the body was now in the sun – fat and lumpy, either having just eaten, but possibly a gravid female. This meant the local snake population was about to increase dramatically, and I wasn’t going to hang around to find out which of the two causes it was. Suddenly the snake turned in my direction and slithered under the rock I was standing on.
An urgent whistle from the distant rocks indicated that the American Golden Plover had been found, and I lost no time in turning my attention from snake to rare bird as I leapt from ledge to ledge before the bird took flight. By the time we had taken sufficient photographs of the pretty little visitor from the Northern Hemisphere, the snake had disappeared from view, and a wide berth was given as we made our way back to the car facing into a strong southeaster that whipped up the fine sand, stinging our legs. We crossed the dunes and scrambled up through the soft sand to the carpark, relieved to reach the shelter of the car after an hour in the hot sun and unpleasant gale. And of course eager to share our experiences with interested parties!
A reality check is required here. In most parts of South Africa where one can enjoy a break from the hustle of city life, there is no cell signal. In the event of an emergency, any kind, whether falling down a mountain, being mugged on a hiking trail, or being bitten by a snake when out in the wilderness, we have no means of contacting anyone who can send rescue and medical services. Should I have been unlucky enough to be bitten by that cobra (and on reflection, I should perhaps have maintained a greater distance), I wouldn’t have been able to phone for help. I wouldn’t have been able to get to the car in time, let alone drive to the nearest hospital. We are on our own out there, and should always tread carefully and with consideration, wear suitable protective clothing such as boots and leggings, and ideally, never in a group of less than 4 people – two to stay behind and two to seek help in an emergency. Things can change in an instant and, while always setting off with the intention of a great day out in nature, there should always be a plan for eventualities.
