Return to Snake Island

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“Never take me out here again.” I recall those words, uttered by my girlfriend at the time, after a day spent trudging through a dense cedar swamp, half-coated in ice. The destination, a swamp island loaded with snakes, wasn’t the issue, but more so the path we took to get there. I’ll take responsibility for that – it was my idea to bushwhack straight there from the nearest road, and I hadn’t yet learned the easiest path to access the place I call “Snake Island.” The idea of spending a day on an island full of snakes actually sounded quite nice to us both. Regardless of what path you take, however, Snake Island isn’t easy to get to.

I eventually learned that the best way to the island is to kayak in along old irrigation ditches where the ice melts first, creating a navigable path about halfway to the island.

By now, you may be wondering about this island full of snakes. Tucked deep within a floodplain cedar swamp in New England lies a small hill with some rocky outcrops. It isn’t really an island – you can technically walk there. The island is surrounded by nearly a mile of swamp in every direction, and the swamp floods easily, especially during the time of year when I prefer to go there. The entire swamp is a great habitat for Common Gartersnakes in the summer. In the winter, however, they need to find a spot where they can seek shelter from the harsh conditions by going underground. They need to get below the frost line, but ideally stay above the water table. Overwintering options are very limited in the swamp, except on Snake Island.

Although usually dry in the summer, the forest surrounding the island floods in the winter and spring, making it a challenge for gartersnakes to find a safe place to overwinter anywhere other than the island.

It seems that the majority of the gartersnakes that live in the swamp within an unknown distance of the island choose to overwinter there. Gartersnakes, which are among the first snakes to emerge in the spring, sometimes surface and begin breeding while there is still snow on the ground. As soon as they emerge, gartersnakes begin to breed. Where gartersnakes overwinter communally, you can sometimes even witness large breeding balls of snakes. When I heard an anecdotal report of all the snakes on a small island in the middle of the swamp in 2009, I had to see it for myself. What I did not anticipate, however, was the challenge I would face in getting there.

I thought the best time to witness snake breeding activity on the island would be around the same time as the Spotted Salamander migrations in early spring. An open meadow next to the swamp looked like the easiest way to get most of the way to the island, but it was flooded and half-covered in thin ice. Instead, I opted for us to walk straight to the island from a road and trudge through the dense cedar swamp. Walking through such a swamp can be difficult even in the summer. The ground is uneven, partially flooded, and interspersed with moss and root hummocks. Tangles of branches and fallen trees force you to climb over or crawl under barriers with frustrating regularity. In this case, those challenges were exacerbated by floodwaters. We wore chest waders, limiting our mobility, but for long stretches, we found ourselves walking over ice. And, of course, our legs frequently post-holed through the ice for extra excitement. Worst of all, when we finally got to the island, there were no snakes. We had arrived too early.

Photo from Kiley's return to snake island - breeding gartersnakes.
If a visit is timed just right, the island is, indeed, full of snakes, and you might find several piles of breeding gartersnakes along with many other individuals scattered throughout the woods.

Undeterred, I tried again (alone), and the next time, I hit the jackpot. Not only was the island covered in snakes, but for the first time in my life, I saw gartersnake breeding balls. I also saw snakes slithering over snow, another first for me. It isn’t anything like the Narcisse Snake Dens in Manitoba, but for me, finding a few dozen snakes was very exciting. And snakes weren’t the only things on the island. As I gently turned some rocks, I discovered the island was also loaded with Four-toed Salamanders. These small salamanders, with bright white bellies covered in black polka dots, are not an easy species to find by turning cover. The best way to find them is to walk along rainy roads at night during an early spring rain. Even then, most people looking for them consider it a good night if they find a few Four-toed Salamanders. I cannot stress enough how spectacular and unusual it was for me to find seventeen Four-toed Salamanders under the first rock I flipped. I’ve never done that again, anywhere. That single rock had more Four-toed Salamanders under it than I have ever found by turning cover anywhere else combined (other rocks on the island excluded). The island had plenty of Blue-spotted Salamanders, too.

Although I do not have a photo of the original 17 Four-toed Salamanders found under a single rock in 2009, these images from 2011 each depict groups of Four-toed Salamanders found under individual rocks, highlighting the abundance of the species on Snake Island.

From that moment on, an early spring trip to Snake Island became a sort of annual tradition for me. During my return trips, I eventually learned that there is an easier way to get there, although it sometimes involves kayaking over ice and occasionally portaging around spots where the ice is too thick to break through. Kayak far enough along the floodplain, and eventually you’ll get to a rough-cut path through the cedar swamp, installed by a hunter many years ago, that leads directly to the island.

This video documents my recent trip to Snake Island, including a sighting of the first breeding gartersnakes I had seen in several years

Eventually, I had to take a break from Snake Island. Living in Texas during grad school, I had to forego the tradition. Upon returning to the Northeast, the timing of the snake emergence always interfered with my work schedule or other plans. Until this year, I had only returned to the island once, in 2019. When I realized that the perfect weather and timing had lined up with a commitment-free weekend this April, I jumped at the opportunity. Snake numbers were pretty low this year, probably because I arrived a few days too early. After going over five months without seeing a single reptile, however, I was ecstatic just to see 10 or so gartersnakes, plus a bonus Common Watersnake (a new species for the island). I hope to resume this annual tradition. For me, it’s a great way to kick off spring, and an end to my yearly winter reptile and amphibian dry spell. A successful day on Snake Island means Wood Turtles, and all our other reptiles, are just around the corner.