The Hindu Business Line : Tale of two rescued snakes

The Sapres — Shekhar and wife Swapna — rescue snakes with a passion, and can be tapped any time of the day. Behind their home the hills of the Western Ghats, under a cloudy sky, were braided by thin, white water flows.

In their apartment at Roha in Raigad district, Konkan, we had a glimpse of an Indian (or spectacled) cobra (Naja naja) placed in a large perforated plastic bottle; when one went near, it hissed and raised its hood; 24-year old Nikhil Milind Bhopale, Programme Officer, Bombay Natural History Society (BNHS), covered the bottle with a dark cloth in a bid to de-stress the reptile. In a securely tied, large jute sack, lay an Indian python (Python molurus) weighing some 4.50 kg. The two snakes had been rescued by the Sapres who were now keen on their release in the forests.

Shekhar Sapre works in a factory while Swapna is into garments. “Everyone knows us in this area and calls us if snakes have to be rescued,” says Swapna, who has also got her young daughter interested in catching snakes. We placed the cargo in the back of the Sumo, and along with Bhopale and Girish Avinash Jathar (a doctorate in endangered, forest owlets) of BNHS, headed to the Phansad Wildlife Sanctuary at Murud.

We were seven: Jathar and his wife, Bhopale, Jaya, Swati Barbaria, Priti Noronha and this writer. As soon as we hit Murud on a part of the Murud-Janjira stretch, we took the elevated road to the sanctuary, which has sensibly banned vehicles inside.

In an open grassland, Nikhil opened the plastic bottle and freed the Indian cobra.

The adult reptile, with an yellowish hood, took a few seconds to get the location right before moving away in a straight line to nearby rocks, and climbed a tree to go its way as we stood in a circle watching. Nikhil handled the Indian cobra with ease, holding the tip of its tail.

The Indian cobra is a strong swimmer and is not usually aggressive, says the fine wildlifer J.C. Daniels. In The Book of Indian Reptiles and Amphibians, Daniel writes: “When alarmed, it adopts the well known pose with erect forebody and spread hood. The height to which the forebody is raised is approximately one-third the total length of the snake and forms the effective striking range. While thus poised, the snake sways backwards and forwards, hissing in an explosive manner which is brief and high pitched during inhalation and longer, louder, lower pitched and intermittently explosive during exhalation. The throat is pouched, more so during exhalation and the whole body is inflated. The tongue flickers in and out during inhalation and exhalation. The bite is often a mere snap, but it sometimes bites and hangs on and the jaws have to be forced open. Occasionally when the snake misses, the poison is ejected as a spray by the forceful thrust of the lunging snake.”

Jathar and Nikhil released the off-dark brown python in a rocky place with a small pond nearby, some distance away, and the fellow swam across to surface on the far side. Daniel makes the interesting point that during the rains in the backwaters of Kerala, pythons are reported to congregate in large numbers to feast on rats infesting the coconut plantations and the fish in the lagoons. One is not sure if today the pythons meet as Kerala backwaters get infested with tourists caring little for snake or sun.

Sanctuary cover

Phansad Sanctuary in the northern part of the Western Ghats in Raigad district has an area of 21,675 hectares. The forest is of the South Indian moist deciduous type with the primary vegetation being Tectonia grandis, Terminalia tomantosa, Madhuka indica, Bhaunia recemosa, and Bombyx ceiba, according to a BNHS paper; one also noted the Jamba (Xylia xylocarpa) and anjan (Memyclean umbellatum) as we walked the forest.

The sanctuary occasionally opens up into gaans (perennial water spots) and mals (wide plateaus).

At many places, the tree canopies form a dark tunnel while the soil, after the rains, is fresh with the mulch of fallen leaves. We started out in the morning, passing by a seemingly abandoned Nawab’s palace, located on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the Arabian Sea.

“The Phansad sanctuary was at one time the hunting ground of the Nawab,” says an enthusiastic Nikhil, who is into snakes, butterflies and birds. One heard bird calls but did not spot them except for a tiny sunbird in flight, which Jathar said was endemic. On the road to the sanctuary, we spotted a something like a lake, the red-whiskered bulbul, common grey hornbill, common red shank, grey heron and a whimbrel.

While moving up and down the forest path, Jathar noted drag marks and three blood drops of an animal; at around 10 in the morning, one heard the first growls of a leopard which went on for about five minutes. At the hotel, we met the group which had spotted the leopard as it crossed their path. Forests play favourites and that morning we were not one.

On the short night walk with frog calls echoing in the night air and a watery, full moon lighting up the night, Nikhil threw torch beams on a cat’s leg tarantula and Varad Giri told this writer of the residence of at least three species of tarantulas in Phansad. “It’s a good spot for reptiles, insects and butterflies,” Varad, who is now the Curator at BNHS, explained.

Some disappointment

Possibly, the disappointment lay in the Murud beach with the Kansa fort located away in the sea. Oil slick, dirt, plastic and a foul smell reduce a beach walk to a suffering. A wind beats up the loud waves to hit the beach while they stop far away. You wet your feet in muck but not in sea water as above, two white-bellied sea eagles skimmed the skies. “They fly some six to seven miles into the sea and pick up sea snakes and other items,” says Jathar. They float in the air over you and you mumble a “wow” in a simple happiness.

To avoid the car rush back home, we started early to Mumbai and on the way stopped at the Samson Cold Drinks housed in a caved in, tile-roofed home with the bill board offering ice cream soda and masala soda for Rs 7 per glass.

Samson Cold Drinks was set up in 1938 when a Jew, Mary Moses David, thought up her own concentrate to offer the public. The machine which she worked on is still there, and works. Now her sister, Elizabeth Samson, and David Sydney keep the show on. “We don’t market our drinks. The public going to and from Mumbai halt here and pick up a few bottles of soda and with Ganapati, business will turn brisk,” says David Sydney, standing in a rolled up blue pant which hangs precariously to a huge, hairy, bare paunch with little hair on the head.

He shakes hands with a smile and shows us the modern PET bottle facility to pack the sodas. Each bottle costs Rs 20 and the ice cream soda can go famously with a gin or vodka. One had to be contented with the soda. Through the week David Sydney, employed in Larsen & Toubro, spends time with his family in Bandra and on weekends, is at Pali village, Alibag bypass road, helping Elizabeth. One left the place amused.

P. Devarajan

More Stories on : Wildlife | Reflections

Article E-Mail :: Comment :: Syndication :: Printer Friendly Page

Stories in this Section
Tale of two rescued snakes