The Case of the Dead 12.5ft King Cobra

Lately I’ve been moseying about the jungle at night by myself. I’ve finally gotten comfortable enough to just wander off and see what nocturnal goodies I can scope out. Luckily Juara is situated next to some draw-dropping secondary and primary rainforest, with three purdy rivers cutting into the jungle around the village too.

A popular waterfall trek that tourists and school groups alike fancy during the day is all mine at night. And two of those rivers are ripe for nighttime exploration, whether on foot in my scuba booties or in a kayak.

My solo endeavors have reaped a bountiful list of jungle residents. On the mammal scene there’s been Mouse Deer, the Common Palm Civet and numerous Red Spiny rats, all firsts for me.

I spotted this Common Palm Civet (Paradoxurus hermaphrodites) looking down on me while trekking up to the local waterfall at night.

The herps have been more than rewarding. I’ve seen one Blue Bronzeback snake and a few Reticulated Pythons. The frogs have been noisy, calling about everywhere, including the White-lipped frog, Poisonous Rock frog, Blyth’s Giant frog; fat, warty, loud River toads; and an impeccably bloated Banded Bullfrog on a ride home one night. Plus another endemic lizard species, being a spaz on rocks: the Pulau Tioman Bent-toed gecko.

The Pulau Tioman Bent-toed Gecko (Crytodactylus tiomanensis) posing quite nicely.

But none of these creatures compare to what I stumbled across about one week ago. The time was nearing 11pm and I had decided to turn around and head back down the river, toward my motorbike. The night wasn’t phenomenal, just three frog species, but it wasn’t a total bust either.

As I combed the left side on my walk back I noticed a long stretch of tan color that looked too light to be a tree root. This possible tree root stretched from down in the water, to up along the top of the stream bank. My headlamp could have used some extra battery juice so I couldn’t make out exactly what I was looking at. I quietly popped up onto a rock in the river, lit up the tan object and realized I was standing within one meter of a King Cobra.

The long-as-can-be King Cobra (Ophiophagus hannah) where it was found in-situ. Notice the the lower half of the snake heading right out of the tree trunk, up the bank.

I got goose bumps, stared mouth agape, hollered a few excitable expletives and then moved back onto a much larger boulder in the river, to verify I was definitely looking at the mack daddy of all cobras (Ophiophagus hannah). I was. As far as snakes go on Tioman they’re pretty unmistakable. The size, head and its scales, upper body and color all screamed cobra.

That night I pegged the length of the serpent at 3-4M (~10-13ft). Yeah, this specimen was a biggie. Longest snake I’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering. The head and upper body were in the water, with the rest of it meandering up through the base of a robust tree trunk, turning ninety degrees and then unraveling along the dirt bank.

The rock I popped up onto to get a closer than needed view when I first spotted the cobra.

Unfortunately it had another characteristic that made this discovery a little grim. The King Cobra was a goner. Dead as can be. This was verified the next morning when I returned to the sighting area with Adam, a friend/colleague of mine. 

Playing with the cobra the next morning, ya know, taking measurements and having a photo shoot.

The night before I noticed it hadn’t moved much. Since it was late, I was by myself and I had never found a King Cobra before I decided to not mess with it, e.g. throwing rocks and sticks at it to see if the snake still had a pulse. That’s exactly what we did in the morning. No reaction. The night before it’s head was partially submerged in the water, but right at the surface and alert. Now it was facing down, as if it had been placed in time out, and looking the part of dead. 

Plank vs. Cobra. Snake wins length battle easily! Adam is around 1.8M (6ft) tall.

We decided to get the cobra out of its current position and move it over to the rocky shore across the river. That’s how I know the first King Cobra I ever found ended up clocking in at 3.8M (12.47ft). Frickin’ awesome. This species has been known to grow as long as 6M (almost 20ft). Sadly, the snake had just recently shed too; hence the eye-catching tan color, the same shade of a fulfilling afternoon cup of tea with lots of sweet milk thrown in.
 

So we splayed the snake out and wondered how the hell it ended up dead. The tail had been gnawed on pretty well, with a few chunks missing, but the rest of the body was intact. The upper body and neck area, running up to its snout, were the only parts to not go through the shed. The old skin was still clinging to scales. We opened its mouth and peered inside, which was big enough to consume my fist or a plump grapefruit. Or both.

Open wide! A fist or two could easily get lost in there.

Obviously the fact that the King Cobra was deceased puts a damper on the finding. But there’s more than enough to be ecstatic about. A quick peruse through the herp guide for the Seribuat archipelago (and the scientific paper preceding this book) reveals the only confirmed sighting of this species on Tioman reigns from Kampung ABC, on the west side of the island and a good 8-9km (~5 miles) away from Juara.

Charlie from JTP has told me before he’s seen a cobra in the same river I did. I believe him. Sometimes in this part of the world it’s difficult to know when other people have seen a cobra species or not. Most folks think any snake out here is a cobra or python, just like people in Arizona who always think the snake they just came across had rattles and was ready to strike them in a moment’s notice.  

The head just underneath the water when first found. Notice the shed skin still lingering and the massive, plate-like scales on its head.

So yup it’s a bummer it had to be dead. But just knowing that an over 12 ft. long snake was out roaming in the jungle, scarfing down other snakes and eating monitor lizards makes me smile. Our world’s charismatic megafauna (tigers, orangutans, giant pythons and anacondas, crocodiles, wolves, etc.) is vanishing fast. As David Quammen has written, we are at war with wild places and along with that, the creatures that rule them.

Tioman is too small to support your classic big-game jungle animals: rhinos, sun bears, elephants and those aforementioned tigers. But we still got some hefty heavy hitters out there and I’ve seen ‘em: monitor lizards pushing 3M (almost 10ft); huge pythons that can squeeze a mouse deer to death and then have it for dinner; and now 12ft long King cobras on both sides of the island. Looks like Tioman, with its ever-developing coastline and the increasing 3D/2N package tourists that go along with that, is still a wild place after all. What more could you ask for? Well, maybe an alive 15ft cobra. I’d settle for that.

Maneuvering it around so we could measure it.

Tail area, which was the only part of the cobra that showed injury.

Large Water monitor (Varanus salvator). This sickly beast was almost stepped on by Adam while we were trekking to a summit view point in another area in Juara. These are top predators on Tioman. This one is easily over 2M (6.5ft).

Blyth's Giant frog (Limnonectes blythii)

Handsome Blue Bronzeback (Dendralaphis cyanochloris) found in streamside vegetation very close to the cobra sighting.

Sprawled out and chillax-ing.

White-lipped frog (Hylarana labialis)

Large stick insect (Phasmatodea sp.)

Obese-looking Banded Bullfrog (Kaloula pulchra) on my ride home.

Big Boi on the rocks: River toad (Phrynoides aspera).

Krunka-delic Komodo-ing

When you're really into something certain activities must be undertaken. It's why  Star Wars fans still camped out for days for those three newer flicks we all knew would probably suck.  It's why today's young-ins (and probably folks my age too, I guess I'm just a luddite when it comes to phones) go ga-ga and wait in line for hours to get a grasp of the new iPhone. And it's why someone who loves lizards (and all herps for that matter) just has to set foot on Komodo island once in their life. Yeah, I worked with Gila monsters (Heloderma suspectum) and while they are the cream of the crop for American lizards, they never even grow longer than two feet.

Alli at the park entrance on Rinca island. Woo-hoo! Dragons bout to get seen.

*** All photos can be enlarged by clicking on them. ***

When I see a fat adult monster walking toward me I get amped and run in its direction, burning inside with an eagerness to see if its a specimen I've had the pleasure of meeting before. I've seen many a video on Komodo dragons (Varanus komodoensis) and read quite a few words on these beasts. I never found that it's a smart idea to run toward them. On their islands these beasts reign supreme, and if I really did jog up into one's personal space, I'd probably look like a much bigger idiot than any Star Wars fan decked out in one of the saga's character's costumes. I also could get dead. 

The Lady and I spent three days looking for Komodos (22 - 24 Nov; a dragon Thanksgiving). Largest lizard in the world. Have killed people and ate children. Live on only a handful of dry Indonesian islands. The lore around these herps could fill up a moldy East coast basement with ease. In reality it's very easy to see them. No romantic trekking through the desert savanna into remote territory looking for colossal lizards was undertaken. Our first day was spent on Rinca island, slightly smaller than Komodo and way less famous. Rinca (pronounced rin-cha) is the Alfred Russel Wallace of the Komodo's range. Everyone knows of Komodo and Darwin. The first two we spotted were a male (below photo) and a female both taking a siesta in the shade of a tree, right next to the visitor center! Komodos seen!

I think most people would be satisfied with this. Me? Hell no! I want to see these lumbering giants walking about, moving around on those flesh-ripping claws and flicking their tongues. Before we even started our guided trek four more dragons were seen taking it easy under the staff's kitchen (two can be seen below). The smell of food draws 'em in. Their sense of smell is beyond impressive.

Our "long" trek on Rinca produced the following: three more dragons, all females. Two were guarding their nests and one was passed out under a sprawling tree, splayed out on a slab of rock. The protective females were a sight to see, alert and watchful. You looked at them and they had their eye on you, with their tongue flicking and head up, knowing intruders were in the area. In an interesting tidbit of natural history the ladies guard the nests for the first 3 months and then says "ahhh, you know what, fageddaboutit," and moves on. Adult dragons will also make a meal out of the juveniles, which is why their first years of life are spent up in the trees, not touching ground. Total dragon count on Rinca: niner.

Dragon nest, non-active though.

Alli about halfway through our trek on Rinca. We had the valley to ourselves.

Two more kitchen dragons - one lady and one man.

Stare off.

The next two days our feet were on Komodo island soil. The first day on their namesake island we got their early (700 hrs or so) and looked like a glorious morning to see 'em out. Recent rain had cooled the weather down and clouds were blotting out the intense Nusa Tengarra sun. Komodo (and Rinca) are not typical tropical islands - they are furnace hot, dry desert-esque savannas. Some large green trees exist but there's no luscious canopy to keep you cool. Hiking in the exposed sun of these islands is just like trotting around the Sonoran desert in July: steamy as my hiccup prone mouth after a plump spoonful of sambal sauce. In other words, my clothes were etched in sweat after we were done walking around.

This and the two photos below are of the first female we saw on-the-go that second day.

This was the morning the dragons, which are actually just big-ass monitors, wowed Alli and I. On our trek we saw two females out walking, eyeballing us and flicking their large snot-yellow-colored tongue repeatedly. It's quite the feeling to have a 2-meter-plus lizard walking directly toward you. Not running or sprinting, just strolling, knowing it's the boss. That or either it's so used to see camera toting tourists at this point it could care less.

The second lady as she walks on by (I was not relaxed to Isaac Hayes at this point, heart was thumpin').

Tongue flick - it's the color of your snot when your sick. Dark yellow.

Comin' at ya!

Me: "Holy shit!!!!" as I'm about to get my squat on. I think Alli was thinking the same thing.

Christmas card?

Overlooking Loh Liang, and not too sweaty.

At the end of our trek, close to the VC kitchen of course, were two bruiser males. These guys were easily over 3-meters (9 ft. in America speak) and chunky to boot. When first seen they were quite spread apart until one got up (very slowly, you almost expect to hear their bones creak) and walked toward the other. Eventually personal space was breached and the marauding male was forewarned by a rumbling breath by the sitting male. The two then sat down and kicked it.

Our faces in this photo and below are priceless.

It's impossible for me to look at this photo and not think of Boddy De Niro's famous Taxi Driver line.

The Lady and I got our tourist on and snapped photos like the paparazzi. You'd a thought we'd a caught Obama having a relapse smoke we clicked so many digital shots. All the while maintaining our distance (don't worry Mom!). Another family had to be repeatedly reminded to move their kids away from the lizards. I don't know how parents can't realize how easily a chunky 3-meter monitor could swallow their under 1-meter child. What morons do to get those "perfect" holiday photos. That brought our second day total to four. We called it after that.

Double trouble.

Up close and personal. Hello good sir.

But right as we were heading to the dock to meet our boat what do we see passed out in the welcome hut to the park at the pier. A dragon of course. Ventral down on the ground and eyes closed. We let this one sleep. Around its back and onward to the boat we went.

Blogger doesn't want to cooperate with this photo I already altered so you get the sideways edition. Our goodbye Komodo in the welcome hut.

 Our last day Alli and I hiked from Loh Liang (the main visitor's center area) over to Loh Sabita (another bay where there is a small national park presence). The valley we passed through is the most famous one on the island. This area is where Walter Auffenberg, an American herpetologist, clocked lots of time studying dragons and producing the Behavioral Ecology of the Komodo Monitor, which delved into numerous aspects of the animal's natural history. Notice the non-sensationalized title used, something I have not abstained from.

Kampung Komodo on the right. The only village on the island. The people actually have a high respect for these lizards even though people have died because of them.

 The hike was about 6 miles one-way, scorching as a July Tucson day. No dragons were seen, but the views were splendid. Sweat poured outta me, I looked like Christian Laettner (the bearded later version) in the 4th quarter, only after 15 minutes or so in the sun. I made enough salt that day, you could have wrung my shirt to season a basket of nachos. Totally worth it. The various valleys of Komodo were finally seen, along with the collection of neighboring islands. And actually walking through "natural" Komodo habitat put a little optimistic dread in my step.

Heading up the hill from Loh Liang.

Sweatiest man on Komodo. Guaranteed.

No other herps were seen either, except one species of Gliding lizard I didn't have time to identify. All the snakes were wise enough to not be out in this heat. Only salty tourists. The bird life was a bonus treat, as we saw several gorgeous Yellow-crested Cockatoo (Cacatua sulphurea, see below for a marginal photo), which are actually critically endangered (boo!), and Black-naped Orioles (Oriolus chinensis). This now concludes my krunk-adelic Komodo ramblings, as I know I've gone on long enough. Enjoy the photos folks!

Overlooking Loh Sebita and islands east of Komodo, including Siaba.

The parched, dry landscape.