
Where to find the Anaconda? – Our search for a mystical creature
This reptile evokes more myths than truths: the great green anaconda.
A habitant of South America’s rainforests and swamps the anaconda can be found easiest in the Llanos, which, for most parts, are more accessible to humans than the dense Amazon rainforest. Dry season (January through March) is best to locate the anaconda, as anacondas have less water and swamps to hide, and so we set out to find it. Here’s a short insight report to the reptile’s habits, habitats and the myths it has evoked over time.
The Anaconda is an enigmatic creature causing mixed feelings: fear, fascination, horror and amazement among others. Least since the 90s horror movie trilogy ‘Anaconda’ there is a great pull towards the heaviest and one of the longest known extant snake species. While the anaconda indeed inhabits the Amazon jungle – as seen in the movie -, it can also be found further north in the Llanos, rich tropical grasslands, some of which are constantly flooded. The vast plains are relatively easy to access so that an eight hour bus journey or an hour long flight from Bogotá already gets visitors closer to the reptile.
We have seen smaller specimen and, less frequently, even larger anacondas close to Yopal, capital of the Colombian department of Casanare, where we operate. To be sure to find it we set out on a trip to the La Aurora nature reserve each dry season to look for our giant reptile friend. A two hour drive to the small town of Paz de Ariporo and then another two to three hour drive off road on dust treks into what feels like a mix of the end of the world and the middle of nowhere, get us to the 10,000 ha reserve. Staying at a rustic ecolodge right on the river Ariporo we set out in an old and rusty jeep with one of the reserve’s owners to find the Great Anaconda.
Clouds of dust swirl behind us as we speed over a bumpy trek, stopping now and then to take a picture of a prairie owl, of Orinoco geese or of the odd capybara and spectacled caiman sunbathing by a lagoon. Yellow grass against pastel blue skies, scrubby bushland meeting almost desiccated waterholes and tough as concrete savannas dotted with skinny zebu cattle, these are the images of Llano summers. Scarlet ibises and roseate spoonbills are colourful specks in the otherwise sepia savanna.
After an hour or so the car comes to a halt near an inconspicuous looking waterhole, almost entirely dried out and with just a few capybaras and deer grazing on its shore. We hop off the jeep and approach the little marshland that surrounds the waterhole to one side. A carpet of aquatic plants covers an area just the size of a townhouse’s tiny garden. Could this possibly be the place where we find one of the largest living snakes on earth?
We roll up our trouser legs and wade in. The men, one of the reserve’s owners and a worker, poke around in the marsh with long branches. “We need to find its head”, one of them explains. “When we find the head, we need to grab it. The head is its most dangerous part, that’s where its teeth are, that’s the part we need to have control of.”
Next they find the anaconda. They keep poking it gently until they are sure to have located its head. Now the two men bend over rapidly, dig deep into the green carpet and grab the anaconda’s head. One pulls it by its head, the other by its tail and slowly the entire reptile emerges and is set free on a bank of mud where it unfolds in all its extent and grace. A giant snake, a little unsure, a little disoriented at first, slowly moves across the mud. Its tongue flickers, its tiny black eyes and little nostrils, its pattern of large black and yellow dots on green, its shiny skin and the tip of its tail – all laid out before our eyes like the mystical creature she is.
It must be a ‘she’ by her size. Females are at least twice as large as their male counterparts. The courtship between the female anaconda and up to a dozen males at a time lasts for more than two months and mating takes place in the water in a kind of sphere known as ‘breeding ball’. The males’ slow-motion fight each other to get their turn and this reproduction process can last 2-4 weeks. Then mama anaconda is pregnant for 6 months before giving birth to 20-100 live anacondas (no eggs!) and losing about half her weight.
The specimen before our eyes is about four and a half meters long, I estimate. “Six!”, everyone but me agrees and underpins a common trait, that of people overestimating the size of an anaconda. While anacondas may grow larger than six meters, no evidence exists. Anacondas keep growing throughout their lives. Quite possibly in regions less accessible, such as the depths of the Amazon forest, larger varieties exist. While many horror stories and local legends go round, anacondas are not known to attack or even be capable of swallowing humans. Caimans, capybaras, deer, calves and other ‘smaller’ mammals are commonly on their menu. With their long branches the men eventually direct the anaconda gently towards the marsh again, where it slides into its protecting carpet of greens, no more than a gentle giant with merely a fearful appearance as long as her strength and personal space are respected.
Left in awe, we will talk about this encounter forever, and possibly, over time let the anaconda of our memory grow bigger and bigger… one for the campfire!
Best time for anaconda sighting: January to March
How to reach us: Daily flights into Yopal from Bogotá
Contact: info@aventurecotours.com
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