When I was younger, I was a soccer player. I wasn’t the greatest, by any measure, but I was really fast. My coaches always tried to get me to wear shinguards, but I refused, because they were uncomfortable and slowed me down. This all changed in college, when the other team had no qualms about hacking at my unprotected shins. Lucky for me that they didn’t know that I wasn’t wearing a cup!
Pardon the rather light-hearted introduction to a very serious topic: safety. Archaeologists pride themselves on their
eagerness willingness to work in the meanest terrain, and under the harshest conditions, in order to get the job done and have a story to tell over beers. We know we can count on our keen eyes to spot danger, and besides, “That never actually happens!”
Well, let me tell you, snakebites do happen. According to Juckett and Hancox (2002), approximately 8,000 venomous snakebites occur annually in the U.S.A., with no more than 12 fatalities. Apparently, this is outdated information according to the abstract of Gold et al. 2002, as the total is down to 2,000 (and yes, those are my attempts at having actual citations in this blog post). While many bites are dry, any venomous snakebite is dangerous as a major infection risk. After all, they’re eating live, wild rodents and other animals!
I first learned about snake guards in 2003, while I was attending the Programme for Belize Archaeological Project field school as a 31-year-old master’s student. I knew the jungle would be full of wild animals, but I never thought about poisonous snakes, much less the fer-de-lance (warning: graphic image!), perhaps the most dangerous venomous snake in the Western Hemisphere. I certainly never expected to kill one coiled between the feet of two colleagues and myself!
Needless to say, when I told my family about this and all the other snake encounters we had during my two-month stint, they were a bit worried. When I mentioned returning for the spring 2004 session, my mother insisted on buying me a pair of snake guards to wear in the field! As it would turn out, I ended up loaning them out to someone else who was doing serious jungle survey, as my site was only a short walk from the camp (sorry Mom).
I started working as a Cultural Resources Management field tech in May 2004, after returning from Belize, and true to my word I wore those snake guards whenever I was on a survey. That is, except when it was cold, as the snakes are hibernating. Of course, this would come back to bite me…in the ankle.
Since that day, I have always had my snake guards on while surveying, except in the dead of winter. I’ve grown accustomed to them to the point that I feel weird when I’m in field clothes and not wearing them. Not only that, but I’ve certainly come across my share of venomous snakes in the field, and was always glad to know that I was protected from all the ones I didn’t see. They also work very well at protecting my lower leg from briars, cacti, sawgrass, and all the other pricky/pokey/pointy things I have to walk through to do my job.
Here’s where it gets serious again: if you work in an area where there’s a serious threat of venomous snakes (and I’m no herpetologist, but I assume that’s a lot of places at least part of the year), you should consider investing in some form of snake protection, be it snake guards/gaiters or snake boots. Even better, if you work for a CRM firm, see if you can get your employer to buy some for the staff. A lot of the big-money clients are putting a heavy emphasis on company safety records, and a major recordable is a big strike that might cost a chance at a fat contract. One of my company’s largest clients has made snake protection a required part of the personal protective equipment, as a form of incident prevention after numerous “near hit” reports during the survey project.
And just in case you still think that what happened to me was something that almost “never happens”, or that I’m just unlucky (which isn’t entirely untrue…), I know two other people in Texas who were saved from snakebites by their snake guards! In both cases, neither person was even aware that they were being struck repeatedly until they wondered about the weird tapping sound/feeling on their leg.
I no longer have my original pair of snake guards, as they became too broken to be effective or comfortable. But the pair I currently have, similar to the ones I’m modeling above, go with me on every project. They’re currently sitting in my cubicle at work, ready for action. And they’ll most definitely be along for the trip to Turkey when I’m surveying for the Maender Archaeological Project!