My recent post about encountering a fer de lance in Costa Rica reminded one reader of a similar experience. A fun story and a cautionary tale!
Black Mamba. Even if you’re not sure what it is, the name itself conjures up feelings of dread… or… a fancy cocktail. But the name strikes fear in the heart of anyone who’s in the know. Black Mambas are among the most poisonous snakes in Africa. They are unpredictable, fast and not to be played with… no matter what the sport.
Several years ago, I had the pleasure of staying at Sun City, one of South Africa’s amazing treasures. It’s a luxury resort complete with water park, a casino, hotels, a game reserve and two championship golf courses. Both the Gary Player and the Lost City courses are spectacular, but Lost City boasts a most impressive Par 3 – 13th hole where players are forced to shoot over a Nile crocodile pond – complete with live monster-sized crocodiles. They warn you before you play and while you’re setting up on the tee box not to go off the cart path. And definitely don’t try to fetch your ball should you end up short, lest you become lunch for one of the amphibious residents.
View of Sun City, South Africa
What they don’t tell you is that the other holes are fair game for all sorts of critters that wander or slither in from the surrounding game reserve. Being a seasoned traveler, I’m pretty savvy at avoiding things that I think can hurt me – dark alleyways in big cities, clowns at the circus and crocodiles on golf courses. But nothing and no one prepared me for my encounter with a Black Mamba on the 15th hole of the Lost City course.
The hole plays over a ravine and onto a spacious green. It’s not very long but the lack of a fairway makes it imperative to make the green in regulation. You can’t imagine my exuberance when I realized that out of my foursome, I was the only one to hit the green from the tee. While the others elected to drop a ball on the other side of the ravine, I proudly pulled up along side the green, grabbed my putter and strutted proudly backward onto the green while yelling sarcastic remarks at my fellow players about to chip on in three.
Much to my surprise, rather than reciting well-rehearsed retorts back at me as one would expect on a golf course where beer is cheaper than bottled water, the other players were silent and had a look about them like they were watching someone about to get hit by a bus. They started pointing in my general direction and started screaming at me. I turned to see what the commotion was about and found myself staring at a two-meter long snake about two strides from where I was standing.
A deadly Black Mamba guards the green at the 13th hole at Lost City.
I’ve never been afraid of snakes… but then again Canadian garter snakes can’t kill you… so I was more curious than scared. I remembered that I had brought my camera so I nonchalantly went back to the cart, grabbed the camera, came back, took the picture and left my ball on the green safely protected by my new friend.
It wasn’t until we got back to the clubhouse and described the snake to a few of the locals that we finally realized that the snake was in fact a “small” Black Mamba. I had the film developed, (yes, this was back in the day of film cameras) and immediately it was confirmed that the idiot from America, (I chose not to correct them) had in fact almost stepped on a Black Mamba, not once but twice, and lived to tell about it.
I wish I had gotten my ball back. I’m glad I got the picture to prove it. But I’m even more pleased that I lived to tell the tale.