Behind a large wooded area was a place we kids called "The Mud Flats". Couple of times a month this flat, barren area would flood with salt water from a nearby tidal channel. The water would recede with the next tide, leaving a mud surface with hard packed ground beneath. It was a great place for a six year-old to ride his bike. The mud dried fast under the South Georgia Sun, but a dry mud flat was almost as fun as a muddy one. It took some courage for me to ride all the way across the mud flats since it required crossing several saltwater channels, but one day I succeeded in making it to the woods on the other side. There, in an unexplored woods I found a swimming hole. It was deep, fresh water, unusual in a salt water marshy area. It was also dangerous because it held a resident alligator.

Living in Savannah gators were not unknown to me, so I knew to respect gators more than snakes. The gators I'd seen before I saw from the safety of a car or boat. This was the first one I had encountered alone in the woods. He was huge. Not just an eight year old's imagination kind of huge, this gator was a monster. He was also old, with large chunks of skin missing, like he'd lost a few fights.

The swimming hole sat down in a deep bowl. You could get into it from any side just by jumping in, but the only way was a shelf of land on the opposite side from where I stood. The problem was the old alligator laid on the small shelf when he wasn't in the water. I wanted to keep the swimming hole my secret, but I couldn't swim in it without help, so I rounded up a few friends. We managed to "find" a rope, which we tied to a tree and dangled down into the water. Even with a rope to climb out of the water there were problems. On the gator's patch of land were small shrub bushes thick enough to conceal him from view at water level view. So once in the water we couldn't tell if the gator was sunning in the dirt or swimming with us. Our solution was to leave a lookout up top to watch the gator. When the gator went into the water the lookout would shout a warning and we'd climb the rope to safety. With the rope and lookout in place I jumped into the water. I went first since it was my discovery. 

I jumped in close to the rope and the instant my head popped out of the water I was climbing the rope. Half way to the top I looked over and saw that the gator hadn't budged. I was sure it'd come after me the second I hit the water, but it looked like it was sleeping. In no time all but one of us was in the water having a blast. We swam for a half hour before the gator moved. Our lookout warned us before the slow moving gator hit the water, but there were four of us in the water and only one rope, so the process was too slow. By the time the last guy pulled clear of the water the gator had been in the water for several minutes. I was brave in most things, but I was still the first guy up that rope when the gator warning went out.

The next time we swam we brought more ropes. With three ropes dangling into the water we set a rule about that: one rope for every person in the water. For a long time we only had three ropes, so we kept it at three guys in the water at one time. The gator never bothered us, but we did notice that when we got too loud he would take a swim and run us off. There were many times when it had enough time to dine on us, but it never tried. Before long we were flinching meat and feeding the gator. We'd begun to see it as our pet but he always kept a respectful distance.

The other interesting thing about the watering hole was the snakes. There were always several water moccasins, also know as a cotton mouth in the swimming hole. Though not scared of snakes, I had a healthy respect for water moccasins.

Given the chance to get away from a person, even a rattle snake will slither way. But a water moceasin is the most aggressive snake I have experienced. If you disturb one of them they are likely to attack, even to try to chase you down. This didn't bother me on land as a good stick will tame any snake, but in the water is a different matter. Water moccasins swam side ways across the top of the water with their head held up several inches Like a periscope. When one spotted you in the water, most times it would come right at you, then dive below the surface as it got close.

It was for this reason that our look out always watched for moccasins as well as our gator. When the look out would spot a moccasin headed towards us he would shout "periscope" and we would all climb our ropes. We would always kill water moccasins when we could, but there were often hard to get at, so there was always one or more in the water with us. We'd grown comfortable with the gator, but all of us were leery of those aggressive snakes.

Because parents are funny about swimming holes in general, and particularly swimming holes with an alligator and water moccasins, we all agreed not to tell our parents about our spot. We felt like we had the gator under control, but the moccasins were troublesome so I decided to ask ny dad about the snake. Then I asked about the snakers ability to attack in the water my dad's left eye brow raised in curioslty. (Yes kids, that's who I got that particular facial trait from.)

I'd seen the spot where my dad and his brothers had built their own swimming hole by damning a creek, so I knew he was not ignorant to such things. Being the kind of guy he was, he didn't ask about my swimming hole, but I was positive he knew I had a secret one. So he gave me a stern warning about how poisonous and dangerous a water moccasin was, even made sure I was clear on what to do if bitten by one. He said that I should kill all of them that I found, especially if it was near water that I might happen to be in. When I mentioned the snakes trait of diving as it got close to you, he smiled knowingly and explained that this was the water moccasins weakness. The snake was aggressive and dangerous, but it could not bite under water. So as long as it wasn't in periscope mode, it couldn't hurt you.

I passed this information on to my crew and we began swimming with the moccasins with less fear. l even began diving after them and catching them under water. We'd toss the snake to the shore and it would be the lookouts job to kill it. There must have been a nest of them around there somewhere because we killed quite a few of the things. There was no doubt that this valuable bit of wilderness lore from my dad improved our lives greatly.

In the next summer we had a family vacation to central Florida. While there dad took us to Silver Springs which had a great snake handling exhibit. While watching one of the shows there was a handler who had several water moccasins in a glass water tank. It was cool because the audience could see the snakes through the glass as they swam around the tank. I observed this type of snake in periscope mode many times and even went under water with it while it went by me submerged, even reached out and caught them by the back of the head while we were both under water, so I was intimately familiar with this snake and how it operated in its natural habitat. Still, it was interesting to watch from the safety of a folding chair without having to worry about it, its cousin, or the nine foot alligator.

The handler picked the snake up and demonstrated just how dangerous this species was through the snakes own natural aggression. Though I can't recall all that the handler did with his snakes that day, I will never forget what he did next. With three water moccasins swimming around the tank he addressed the small crowd and asked: "Who believes a water moccasin can't bite under water? I raised my hand as did my dad and few others in the audience. The handler said the percentage was about right as a tenth of all Southerners believed a water moccasin can't strike under water. The smile on the guy's face gave me a bad feeling about the answer to his question.

He caught one of the snakes with a hooked stick, held it under water near the glass where we had a good view. He then picked up another stick with a piece of chicken meat attached to the end. When he put the piece of chicken meat in front of the submerged snake the water moccasins strike was instant and aggressive. The handler repeated the process with the other two snakes with the same results. It wasn't necessary, but he told us the belief that a water moccasin could not bite under water is false.

He went on to explain that not only could the snake attack and kill while submerged, biting its victim from below the surface was its preferred form of attack. That is the reason the snake swims on the surface with its head up, looking for a victim, then submerges as it gets close. To attack from under water. It was a maneuver I had observed many times.

Up to this point I had not looked at my dad. But when the handler moved onto rattle snakes I looked over at my dad. He looked like he'd been holding his breath. We looked at each other for a minute then both laughed. We never discussed it, but I have a feeling I wasn't the only one who'd swam under water with a dangerous predator in its own element.

*Thanks for reading! Dad is telling this story as if he were telling his children. It's not his normal style of writing and has him second guessing himself. His plan was to write this for my siblings and I, but I felt it was important for others to see the real Clayton Waagner, or Roger, as mom calls him. The one that I know.