Eye to eye with a water moccasin

I have had a number of frightening encounters with snakes, but this incident was the scariest.  

Many years ago I had a boat and enjoyed fishing in the Flint River. On this particular fishing trip, my son, Bill, about 13 years old at the time, and I launched the boat at the old River Ferry just outside Marshallville, Georgia, and headed downstream toward Montezuma.  We fished several hours during the morning hours and returned that afternoon.  

As we approached the Ferry where we would park the boat, I turned off the engine about 25 yards before reaching shore, so there would be no unused gas left in the carburetor, and began coasting toward the docking area. I apparently cut the gas too quickly, because the boat didn’t reach the shore.  I tried frantically to re-crank the engine, but without success. We found ourselves drifting in the river without propulsion.  

I looked up and we were heading straight for an overhanging bush thicket at water’s edge. As the boat slammed into the bush, three huge water moccasins fell from its limbs.  One hit the water with a big splash. One dropped right pass Bill’s shoulder, hit the boat and bounced into the water. The third moccasin, almost as big around as a stove pipe, landed in the center of the boat, atop the well area.  He was less than 3 feet away.  

He looked at me with those cold, menacing eyes and I looked nervously at him. I was petrified with fear and didn’t know whether to stay in the boat or jump out. With two other deadly leviathans lurking in the water nearby, jumping out didn’t seem like a good idea. Staying in the boat didn’t either, because one bite from that monstrous snake packed with all that poisonous venom, and I wouldn’t live long enough to receive medical attention.  

I thought about hitting him with the paddle, but the paddle was on Bill’s side of the boat. I hollered to Bill to hit the snake with the paddle.  Bill swung and missed as the slithering snake lurched toward me. Just as I closed my eyes expecting the monster to be in my lap, I heard another splash. The sinister, beady-eyed moccasin, which represented my worst nightmare, abandoned ship and jumped in the water.  Was I relieved! 

Bill and I were visibly shaken. It was several minutes before we could regain our composure.  From that day forth, we never cut the engine when approaching the river’s edge, regardless of how much fuel was left in the engine. 

God sent serpents as divine punishment against the Israelites, who began to complain during their desert sojourn. As they trudged through the wilderness, vipers hiding in the sand would bit them without warning. A bite from a viper meant paralysis and certain death. God heard Moses’ intercessory prayer and responded by instructing him to build a bronze serpent and set it upon a pole.  The life of anyone bitten by a snake could be spared by looking at the bronze serpent.