The Great Python Safari

Freddie and Mike were longtime islanders. They came to Marco in their youth and grew up on the island as the growth of a new brand of paradise erupted around them. As the Beach Boys grew into men, their island lives navigated marriage, hurricanes, and the awkward stages of hair loss and weight gain, and younger people calling them “Sir” in grocery stores.

Despite the changes that life was tossing out like the next hand of cards at a poker table, Freddie and Mike remained steadfast friends throughout their careers. Both men were golf professionals and had often worked together in the sprawling golf industry of Southwest Florida. Both islanders also always had some kind of side hustle on days off.

Over the years, Freddy found he had an aptitude for computers. He could open a laptop, a phone, or a desktop, and decide at once which of the destructive gremlins were hiding in the world wide web of internet wizardry. Freddy was popular for making house calls on ailing computers. Freddy could diagnose, cure, and depart a troubled household of failing technology in less than an hour. Freddy was a happy camper, but he was longing for real adventure in the great outdoors.

Mike was similar in his ambition and side hustle, but his aptitude was with any type of automobile. When not working on a golf course, Mike was easy to find under a shade tree or working in someone’s garage, but he was also wistful for something more adventurous than opening the engine compartment on a car.

One day when Freddy was visiting one of his computer patients and solving a problem with software, a mud-covered jeep pulled up in the driveway and two young men hopped out dressed like Indiana Jones. The young adventurers were wearing tall snake boots, camouflaged pants, and kaki hunting vests, and both were brandishing snake hooks for capturing Burmese pythons.

After speaking to the young snake wranglers at length, Freddy snapped at the idea of hunting giant snakes in the untamed Florida wilderness and quickly called Mike to share the idea. After learning that it was possible to become a paid python hunter, both of the islanders—who had never been further into the Everglades than the edge of a golf course—decided big snake bounty hunting would be the ultimate Southwest Florida adventure.

The two friends soon learned that snake hunting with a firearm was not a humane or legal method to dispatch the pythons. Before heading out in their new safari outfits and boots, Freddy and Mike became aware of the strict guidelines involved with the capture of the invasive creatures. Any attempt to kill a snake cruelly would result in serious consequences for any stalker who chose to engage in a big snake safari.

After following all of the official rules and regulations, Freddy and Mike dressed to kill—in their knee-high snake boots, camouflage pants, and safari vests—and set out on The Great Python Safari.

Freddy was prepared with all the Internet had to offer on python hunting and Mike was ready to contribute with an old and battered—but mechanically sound—canvas top jeep.

Because motorized vehicles are not in the rulebook for python safaris, Mike parked the jeep on a remote levee road and both of the friends, who were far from youngsters, set out on foot.

According to Freddy, the timing was perfect. Early morning, just after sunrise, was textbook because the big reptiles were cold-blooded and wanted to warm up in the sun.

“Rising high ground or tree islands are best,” Freddy explained as the two snake stalkers began slapping at the swarm of mosquitoes who were unaware that two hunters in awesome outfits were drenched in insect repellent. When the new boots began to take a toll on the chaffing feet that were starting to sweat and make blisters, Mike signaled Freddy to stop in his tracks.

About two snake-pole lengths in the distance was a very large alligator who was much more camouflaged than the two snake hunters were. With the two friends gingerly stepping away from the well-hidden prehistoric terror who was clearly watching closely, Freddy backed into a massive spider web and turned quickly to meet the maker of the web face to face. Freddy did not scream—not quite—but he did render a whimpering type sound that Mike would tease him about forever.

The spider was huge and clearly aggravated that Freddy had backed into her web. The legs were fast and busy, and the big yellow-and-black body was menacing. With Freddy and Mike backing away in a frenzy of arachnophobia repulsion, the alligator, who was now waiting behind the two adventurers, broke the surface of the water with a loud thrash and began an advance on the two snake stalkers who were on their very first Everglades adventure.

After running away in the new boots that were now painful, Mike saw the python first. The Burmese invader was huge and on the move. The gleaming reptile was moving quickly with a classic serpentine motion and heading fast toward the two refugees fleeing the alligator ambush and the spider trap. Because it was either fight the slithering monster barehanded—as the rule book suggested—or with the snake poles that been suddenly abandoned at the scene of the giant spider attack, both of the golf course professionals quickly decided that discretion was indeed the better part of valor.

The unexpected quick march and retreat was painful with the new boots, the sweaty blisters, and the tugging muddy ground, but the mosquitoes did offer a never-ending escort back to the rescue jeep for the very last . . . ever. . . Great Python Safari.