It happened last Saturday.
It was late evening and I, as usual, was sitting at the computer preparing material for a new
episode, when I suddenly received a message from my friend, Matt, saying:
“Hey dude, how’s it going?
You at home?
I’m coming over.
I’ll be there in an hour.
I’ve got this really crazy story to tell you.
About a guy who was swallowed by an anaconda!
No shit.
I kid you not.
It’s gonna blow your mind!”
How can I say no to that?
Matt is a rather colorful character, and quite the raconteur.
He seems to make a point of hanging out with all sorts
of different freaks, weirdos, and other assorted oddballs.
He always recounts to me the wildest, craziest, and most outlandish stories that
he gets from this bizarre assortment of human beings he counts as his
friends.
You have no idea the endless number of totally insane stories
I’ve heard during my time knowing this guy Matt.
And it’s not as if I dislike these stories or
anything, but I have to say that I really do get truly freaked out
sometimes...I mean I get goosebumps and my hair stands up from his
retelling of some of the gory and creepy details.
Though fortunately, I think these stories are probably just pure
fantasy... very realistic, but still fantasy.
I think so.
I mean, they must be.
Well...I can’t say 100% one way or the other for sure.
Anyway... almost all of our mutual friends believe every single word of every story he
tells... and they call me a skeptic!
Matt and I had a heated discussion regarding his latest story.
I argued that there were several inconsistencies
and uncertainties.
Matt, on the other hand, vehemently argued - as
usual - that everything was 100% pure, unadulterated truth.
So, I had an idea: who, if not you, my dear viewers, could better judge the veracity
of this tale... and help us sort truth from fiction in this mystifying
modern-day instant legend?
And after watching this video, please give a thumbs
up if you like this new format.
Okay... back to the story Matt told me that night:
Whether out of boredom, or from an irresistible urge to revel in doing
something exotic and irrational, one Mister Richard Harris, an ordinary
accountant from New York City, suddenly decides to go to South
America in search of a giant anaconda.
Yes, that’s right...an anaconda.
His friends all politely tell him his idea is pretty out there.
And it IS a nutso idea.
To most people, anyway.
But not to Mr. Harris.
I just can’t figure how this guy thinks it’s worth it
to just go traipsing off into the Amazon to get himself an anaconda.
I mean... the guy’s an accountant, for Krikey’s sake, right?
I’m thinking he’s gonna be hard pressed to even
tell the difference between - say - a computer mouse and a big ass
jungle rat...let alone a 30-foot-long snake.
A 9-meter-long monster like this is not like what you find in a terrarium
at your local pet store.
But anyway listen...
So, Richard...or should we call him Dick...let’s call him
Dicky...Dicky believed that what he learned about snakes on the Internet
was more than enough.
So, what started this all: Dicky learned that the
New York zoological society was offering $50,000 - a pretty tidy sum, I
gotta admit - for a 30-foot or 9-meter-long anaconda.
So, Dick immediately packs his bags and flies off to
Brazil for what he thinks - at that moment - is going to be easy money.
Dick though...he’s a numbers man, right?
So, he figures - in that big smart calculator brain of his - that splitting
the money with anyone else is a bad idea.
The prospect even frightens him.
He wants it all to himself.
He’s got some kind of plans for this 50G.
So, he decides to do without the help of professionals, or a guide, or
anyone at all who knows anything about the jungle or the river...and
the dude goes in - alone - on an old, rented boat, dreaming, I’m sure,
of the stacks of cash or gold doubloons or whatever he’s gonna get.
Anyway, a few hours later, still puttering along in his boat on the waters
of the greatest river in South America, our hero doesn’t really pay much
attention to the Sun setting...
The nearest settlement is at least 15 miles away...that’s about 24 km,
with a jaguar roaring somewhere not too far away hinting that it’s
probably not a good idea to approach the shore.
The situation finally starts getting to Mr. Harris... he’s used
to a somewhat more comfortable existence.
He smacks his paddle down in a fit of frustration and maybe
even a bit of anger...whereupon he gets a giant splinter in the palm of his
hand.
He sees the blood...feels a little woozy...pulls out this enormous
splinter... and reflexively dips his bleeding hand into the water.
But - as the local Indians say - and I may be paraphrasing
- do NOT stick your bloody wounded hand into the piranha-infested
Amazon river...
It’s just not a good idea.
These monsters aren’t really dangerous if you don’t
have any bleeding scratches or cuts on your body.
But in case of having something like a gushing, bleeding wound,
well...these predatory fish quite easily smell the blood.
If your whole body’s in the water, you are unlikely to even have enough time to swim
to the shore before being eaten alive.
Dick also realizes something like this... when his forefinger
and thumb are suddenly and painfully clenched in the sharp-toothed,
powerful jaws of a piranha.
So, Dicky here... well...I’m guessing due to
fear, or perhaps just plain jungle accountant clumsiness...Dicky falls
overboard…
Fortunately for him, he is only a few feet away from the muddy shoreline,
so our intrepid and fearless first-time snake hunter accountant manages
to get onshore alive, unlike his thumb, which remains in the mouth of the
predatory fish.
But Harris, who is lying on the grass, doesn’t give a hoot
about his lost finger... the main thing is that he survived, and that nothing
else augurs any trouble.
And everything seems like it’s gonna be okay...
Except, of course, for the gigantic anaconda, which is just 5 feet away -
that’s one and a half meters - and is staring directly at Dicky, our jungle
tourist.
Something tells me that Mister Harris isn’t thinking about the
money any longer at this moment...
But there isn’t really any time to think of pretty much anything.
Our intrepid urban office hunter remembers what
he is supposed to do in such a situation...something he learned from
some random website.
So Dicky lays down flat on his back on the ground,
ramrod straight, in the hope that the snake will try to eat him, feet
first, so that our hero can then attack the predator with a knife.
This is how the instructions on the website stated one should fight off a giant,
man-eating snake.
But, alas, despite his excellent sense of humor, Dicky
didn’t understand that the article was nothing more than a joke, and
that trying to fight a snake this way, you will only accelerate the time it
takes for the snake to get you
into its stomach.
And besides...anacondas are practiced killers, and are
not very likely to start eating a person starting with their feet.
Normally, these mega snakes first envelop their victim's
body, constricting around it, whereupon they break all of their victim’s
bones, and squeeze out all the available air in their lungs.
It is then that an anaconda will begin to consume their meal, normally starting from
the head...
This fate would await Harris as well...if not for the guinea
pig.
What guinea pig? you may ask.
When Dicky ran for his life to the shore, he stomped and stumbled
across a leftover chunk of dead capybara, which is a giant guinea pig the
size of a wild boar.
This animal is a quite common meal for anacondas.
In fact, they love these ersatz rats.
Anyhow...upon finding capybara fur on the soles of Dicky’s boots - which is
like catnip to these giant snakes - the serpent mistakes them for a capybara and
begins to devour the boots, and Dicky, gulping him down up to the
man’s waist.
The poor guy continues following the false internet instructions,
waiting...waiting for his chance to strike... but just at this most
crucial moment, he remembers something utterly important...
He has no knife...
Or rather, it’s in the boat, but not on his person.
While poor Mr. Harris looks despairingly at his
boat drifting near the shore, his body goes deeper and deeper into the
snake, to the point where only his head can now be seen.
By the way...large snakes, like pythons or boas,
do sometimes eat their victim alive without strangling it to death first...
it’s just fairly rare.
To be honest, I imagine that Dicky tried to resist.
But normally any squirming attempts to escape provoke these snake-zillas into
strangle their victim.
But apparently Mr. Harris just turns out to be
one of those lucky ones who are swallowed alive...or is he unlucky?
Depends how you look at it.
Nevertheless, at this moment he already feels like he can barely breathe
any longer, and gasping for air, his vision starting to fade...the light going
out in his eyes... he begins to hear his own heartbeat POUNDING in his
ears, slowing down with each beat... our snake-hunting accountant is
feeling his last few moments of conscious…
But before losing consciousness, he remembers a story about a man
named Paul Rosolie.
This is a man who, unlike Dick, voluntarily allowed
an anaconda to swallow him.
Paul spent several hours in the snake's stomach and eventually escaped unscathed.
But he was very well prepared.
A suit made of carbon fiber material protected Paul Rosolie's
body from the deadly squeezing and constricting muscles of the
anaconda.
In addition, a special chemical mixture protected him from the
snake’s gastric acid, and a tube that extended outside the snake allowed
Mr. Rosolie to breathe.
If only Mr. Harris had the same arsenal, everything might turn out differently.
But now, finding himself on the interior of the biggest snake on the planet,
he can only hope for a miracle.
Sometime later, Mr. Harris opens his eyes... tropical birds are flitting
around, and sunlight is shining through the thick leaves of palm trees.
This must be paradise, Dicky thinks.
I must be dead.
But for some reason his body still hurts, he is breathing
heavily, and is ridiculously and insanely thirsty...
This isn’t the heaven Dick had imagined.
But when he looks at his feet, he realizes that this is
definitely not heaven, and, in fact, he is still alive.
Our brave snake-hunter sees that his boots are
gone, as well as his socks, and that his feet are covered with painful and
unpleasant-looking burns.
And there are some fresh traces of what look like big cat footprints scattered around him
in the mud.
There is only one explanation for this unbelievable situation.
When snakes come across predators - or pretty much anything they consider
dangerous - they forget all about eating.
All of their available energy is directed towards
escape.
And if there is something in their stomach, it is better to spit it
out as fast as possible and find something else to eat later, at a safe
remove.
When Dicky’s legs had reached down into the snake's stomach,
due to the acid, his boots had dissolved, then his socks, and finally even
the skin on his legs had started to melt.
But around this time, on its way from somewhere to somewhere, a jaguar came
across this spectacle... probably the same jaguar whose roar scared
the wits out of Dicky the night before.
Realizing that the big crazy wild cat is a tough rival to beat,
and a man, seasoned with capybara fur on his rubber boots, is not a
very tasty dish, the snake regurgitated its victim, and disappeared into
the waters of the Amazon.
But still... there are a couple of points that I
have some questions about.
First, is it really possible for rubber boots to
dissolve in anaconda stomach juices in just a couple of hours?
Anaconda’s gastric acid is, of course, a very powerful substance,
capable of digesting even the bones of large animals.
But this process requires days usually, or sometimes even weeks.
And second, was the
jaguar in question so finicky that he passed by this perfect meal of a
foolish and now unconscious New York City accountant, simply because
the man had already been barfed up by a snake?
Perhaps the jaguar felt it was beneath him.
I don’t know.
But, okay yeah, the jungle is a very unpredictable place...it’s true it’s often
difficult to know who is a friend, and who is an enemy.
Apparently, Mr. Harris makes it back to some semblance of civilization and to a hospital,
where he also learns - oddly enough - that the award from the New York
Zoological Society had actually been canceled a long time before.
He just hadn’t bothered to look closely at the date of the article’s
publication.
But at this point he really doesn’t care anymore…
After spending another couple of weeks in South America, our hero
returns to New York...without an anaconda... without any money...and
minus one finger.
But with better understanding of the value of his own
life, and immense gratitude to an unknown wild jungle jaguar, which he
is unlikely to ever meet again.
In the US, Mr. Harris continues his rehabilitation from his injuries, with his
present doctor being the one who told this story to my friend Matt.
The whole case itself is totally screwball.
Can you imagine, though... what an experience...
being swallowed alive by an anaconda, and somehow managing to survive.
But what’s the truth here, and what is fiction?
I’m curious as to your opinion.
Let’s consider this episode as a kind of attentiveness test.
Tell us in the comments what exactly cause your suspicions as to the veracity of this
story.
Or if you believe it really happened, what convinced you, and why?
What did you think?
You can show this video to your friends, and maybe
they can help us find an answer... two heads are better than one, they
say...and three heads certainly better than two!
I will give you my final verdict in the next episode of this series, if, of
course, you liked it, and you want more like this in the future.
Vote, my friends: Thumbs up, if you want this type of video to continue,
or thumbs down, if you are against it.
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