Anaconda

Back before I left for Paraguay, I described the country to a few of you as the place where biologists go to slog through the marshes and eventually wrestle out snakes the size of water mains for the benefit of National Geographic’s cameras.

Well, it took me sixteen months, but here finally is a snake the size of a water main.

Anaconda head

She was an anaconda, indigenous to the region, 6 meters (20 feet) long, and of unknown-but-surely-impressive age and weight. Not just impressive to me, either. Although the species is common enough out here, finding one of this size is a once-in-a-generation event. Given what’s happened to local fish populations lately, it may be a once-in-a-lifetime event now.

Two guys out fishing on the Rio Ypané found her, along an untouched stretch of river a few kilometers downstream from the town’s busy, noisy beach. She had just eaten, for which reason she couldn’t dive to escape them. So they did what most Paraguayans would like to do upon encountering a snake longer than some aircraft, and bashed her head in.

Eventually, they got her body loaded on the boat trailer and towed her through town for an impromptu parade. By this time, it was twilight, so I was stuck using my camera’s flash. And she was so long that her head and tail both hung off the ends of the trailer. So I’m sad to say that I have no pictures of her stretched to her full length - you have to see her by halves.

Anaconda’s full belly

In the picture above, you can see the bulge of her last meal at about the halfway point in her body. In the next photo, you can see from the bulge to where her tail hangs off the trailer. And in the one after that, you can see from the bulge in the opposite direction.

anaconda to tail

Anaconda to head

The bulge was the subject of all kinds of speculation. I heard theories that it might be everything from a calf to a horse to a person to another snake to a shark. So at the end of the parade route, we all gathered ’round as a few especially tough ranch hands slowly relieved her of one gorgeous snake skin and a nasty, stinking capybara.

The world’s largest rodent is ugly in life, and repulsive even when expertly cooked. Half digested in the belly of a hours-dead giant snake, it can singe human nose hairs at a distance of ten paces. I took pictures anyways, but they are pretty bloody. View at your own risk.
Cutting open the belly
The capybara emerges
The whole ugly thing

So that’s the end of the largest snake I’ve ever seen. I wish I could have seen her in life. I wish, for that matter, that she were still alive. But all the same, I wouldn’t sell my experience having seen her for any sum you could offer.

The Guaraní word of the day, naturally enough, is kuriju, meaning anaconda. No fewer than twice during the Giant Snake Parade, I overheard people saying that they hadn’t previously believed that the kuriju was a real animal. Paraguayan TV channels run really supremely stupid schlock horror movies on Sunday afternoons when there’s not a futbol game or telenovela to be had. And given the believability deficits inherent in the genre, it’s understandable that no one was taking the creature du jour seriously.

5 Responses to “Anaconda”

  1. jane Says:

    Facinating! I wonder how old she was? I’m like you, I wish she still swam, but downstream. Thanks so muhch for the informative post, and yes, my snake nightmares are in full swing.

  2. tom tapley Says:

    this is so awesome. What an awesome life journey you are on!!

    Love,
    Cousin Tom Tapley

  3. nootie Says:

    This is SO cool. Really enjoyed this post (and showing it to all of my friends).

  4. Matt Fetner Says:

    I read your site from time to time and find your entire experience fascinating. However, your more recent post is particularly intriguing given my last several months. On the Thursday before Memorial Day I was taking our trash can to the street when I felt a sharp burning sensation in my left foot. I looked down and noticed a rattle snake coiled in an s-position and waiting to strike again. Long story short, I spent three days in the hospital and recieved numerous vials of anti-venom. My ankle still hurts today if I do not stretch it upon awakening or spend too much time bare foot. By the way, we live in Vestavia, a very urban area in Birmingham. There is little explanation to how a rattlesnake ended up in my driveway other than the large amounts of chipmunks that inhabited our neighborhood.

  5. counterclockwise » Blog Archive » Sink and swim Says:

    […] counterclockwise dispatches from the southern hemisphere « Anaconda […]

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