Eastern Coral Snakebite: Part I

The Eastern Coral Snake:

Lessons Learned in the Field

By York Morgan

In March of 1997, I was lucky to find the notoriously elusive eastern coral snake (Micrurus fulvius) in southeastern Georgia. The encounter and the events that followed were not only exciting, they also taught me important lessons.

It was a beautiful spring day in the heart of the Georgia lowlands, near Folkston. My brothers (Derek and Wyeth, both SHHS members), a friend and I had just camped for two days near the Okeefenokee Swamp where we had been canoeing. We knew from experience that spring snake-hunting near the swamp is not always that productive due to the lack of high ground and easily accessible snake habitat. Still, we had our Furmont "Stump-rippers" along for the ride so that we could look for snakes as we worked our way home to North Carolina.

As we drove, we looked for suitable snake-hunting habitat. After several fruitless stops, we came across an old home site that had numerous downed timbers and pieces of plywood. While lifting old lumber from a large pile, we uncovered a handsome 6-foot rat snake (Elaphe obsoleta). We released the ornery beast after several photos and continued our search.

Minutes later, I was drawn to a spot covered with pine straw. As I picked through some scant debris, I discovered a board that was completely concealed under pine straw. My anticipation grew as I swept the straw from atop the board with my snakehook. The board was positioned flat and tight against the sandy ground. It was the type of site where I have often found corn snakes (Elaphe guttata) and scarlet kingsnakes (Lampropeltis triangulum elapsoides). Optimistic that I would find one or the other, I excitedly hooked the board and tilted it back. There it was! A beautiful 20-inch coral snake!

It was only the second coral snake that I had ever seen in the wild. I immediately relearned one lesson: To an experienced observer, the eastern coral snake and the scarlet kingsnake are quite distinguishable, even at a quick glance. In the early years before I had found a coral snake in the wild, I was always worried that I would be so busy trying to frantically remember a catchy rhyme ("red on black, venom lack" or whatever) that I would allow a prized coral snake to crawl away unphotographed. (In fact, the first scarlet kingsnake that I ever turned escaped during the moment of hesitation that its aposematic coloring caused me. Maybe there is something to mimicry after all...at least it worked on me.) However, the coral snake that sat coiled at my feet did not confuse me for a second. Its large size (relative to the scarlet kingsnake) and conspicuously bulbous, black head alerted me immediately.

I yelled, "Coral snake!" and the guys came running. Before they could arrive, however, the snake began to uncoil and nose around for a hole in the sand. Afraid that it would escape before we could all see it and take photographs, I gently pinned its body to the sand with the toe of my boot. It responded by writhing uncontrollably and to the point that I was afraid it would hurt itself if I did not do something. I decided to go ahead and catch it with my hands. I learned another important lesson: catching coral snakes can be tricky business. Their quick, jerky movements can make them difficult to pin. Plus, their bodies are so slender and fragile that an aggressive pin could easily injure them. Furthermore, the sandy soil in which they are often found is not a solid substrate for delicate pinning maneuvers.

After much maneuvering with both hands and a gentle boot (my snake hook was too big and clumsy to be of any use on this catch) I managed to grasp the squirmer just behind the head with my left hand. His positioning was not especially comfortable to me because I am right handed and because there was sand trapped between my fingers and his neck. Nevertheless, I decided to maintain the hold rather than undergo the certain ordeal that would have resulted if I had released my grip and started over. The four of us celebrated the find quite enthusiastically and Derek ran to the car to get the cameras. I had taken my eyes off the snake for only a moment when I felt a sharp pain on my left middle finger! Instantly, I dropped the snake on the ground and squeezed my finger to confirm what I already knew…the skin was broken. The wound bled more freely than similarly sized bites from non-venomous snakes. The blood, which I squeezed continuously from my finger in the same manner a milking a cow’s teat, seemed to be slightly transparent at first. Then , it bled normally.

In less than a minute, I had learned many lessons, several of which seem blatantly obvious in retrospect but may be easy to ignore in the heat of the moment.

• Firstly and most importantly, it is best to not restrain venomous snakes with your hands. Although I may often be willing to bet on my dexterity and risk harm to myself, is it also worth risking harm to the animal itself? It is much better to photograph the animal were it was found and never handle it at all.
• If it is deemed necessary to catch the snake, use appropriate tools and methods. Small, squirmy snakes require small, agile tools. There are numerous ways of capturing a snake without touching it, but first you must be prepared by carrying along appropriate gear. Because coral snake sightings have been so rare for me, I was not as prepared to deal with one as I was to deal with more typically encountered snakes, like pitvipers. Simple work gloves would have changed the whole scenario.
• If it is deemed necessary to touch the snake with your hands, always be aware your grip. Use your most dexterous hand to do the tricky work. If you are uncomfortable with your grip, then abort the mission and start over.
• Never take your eye off the snake. Enough said.
• Do not underestimate the coral snake’s willingness to bite. I took unnecessary chances, in part, because I had read about and witnessed their generally benign dispositions and believed that the snake would not bite me even if I gave it the opportunity. When taken from its home and restrained in an aggressive manner, what able-bodied animal would not defend itself?
• Maintaining a grip on small snakes can be more difficult than with larger snakes. The large, triangular-shaped heads of the pitvipers serve as a perfect "knob" behind which to fasten you grip and ensure that your fingers do not get too close to the mouth. The coral snake, on the other hand, has no such "knob" and can more easily squirm the centimeter or so that may be necessary to ensure its ability to bite.
• Coral snakes can envenomate their target without necessarily chewing. While most literature states that the primitive venom delivery mechanisms of the coral snake means that it must chew on its intended victim to ensure envenomation, that does not mean zero envenomation occurs if the snake fails to "latch on". Considering the extreme toxicity of coral snake venom, a less than full dose could be quite dangerous.

As I "milked" my finger, I contemplated what to do. We snapped a couple of quick photos of the snake and returned it to its home under the board. Then, with great self-directed anger, embarrassment, and fear; we headed for a hospital where my lessons continued.

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