Cooler than a cobra as cockpit turns into snakepit

While South Africa’s politicians seem more interested in spitting venom at each other and sinking their fangs into their opponents than saving a country in a perilous spiral of descent, a pilot called Rudolf Erasmus gave the entire world a pick-me-up this week for safely making an emergency landing in terrible weather conditions. Erasmus was flying with four passengers on board a private plane, which happened also to be hosting a stowaway, a large Cape cobra not wearing its seat belt.

Everyone knows that passengers are not allowed in the pilot’s domain, but perhaps this one confused cockpit with snakepit.

The story has spread from Saigon to Saskatchewan. People who had no idea where South Africa was now know that we have scary snakes and excellent pilots.

Erasmus will forever be known as the man who kept his cool while a snake crawled coldly around his “love handles” as he referred to the area above his hips. Honours have been heaped on him from flying associations around the globe, including from the South African Civil Aviation Authority, whose director Poppy Khoza said he “displayed to the world that he is an aviation safety ambassador of the highest order”.

The only person probably not filled with joy at the outcome of the Erasmus v Cobra case is the owner of the plane, which is, I believe, being shredded into ever-smaller pieces because they still can’t find the snake.

Part of the popularity of this hair-raising story is that most sane people are terrified of snakes. I can’t even look at a picture of one without my hair literally standing up on end. The idea of a cobra slithering over one’s shoulder is many people’s worst nightmare, and we all love a horror story.

Here’s a humiliating confession. I cannot lower myself onto a lavatory without first checking that there is not a python or a puffadder curled up in the bowl. This is a remnant of my childhood — my grandmother had an outside toilet and I once heard (or thought I heard) the adults discussing a snake found in it. I’ve never established whether that was a myth, but even if I’m on the highest floor of the fanciest hotel in the densest city centre, I still check.

It’s not just the snake that made this story so compelling. In the same way as humans are fascinated by escape-from-prison stories, we are drawn to legends of heroes who conquer monsters. The ancient Greek myths are full of these. In the introduction to his wonderful book Heroes: Mortals and Monsters, Quests and Adventures, author Stephen Fry explains how, after the human Prometheus stole fire from the gods (he was horribly punished but too late, people could now braai), the power began shifting from gods to mortals. In Fry’s words: “Men and women who grasp their destinies, use their human qualities of cunning, courage, ambition, speed and strength to perform astonishing deeds, vanquish terrible monsters and establish great cultures and lineages that change the world ... men and women who — either with or without the help of the gods — will dare to make the world safe for humans to flourish.”

There are plenty of South Africans past and present who could be called heroes in this sense, but it has been ages since Perseus slew the gorgon Medusa, who had snakes instead of hair growing out of her head. We needed another great tale of extreme bravery to make us shiver and shudder and then smile with relief when everything turned out OK at the end.

Soon there will be statues and paintings of snake-and-safety ambassador Erasmus defeating the mighty serpent. There are also probably poets composing lyrical odes to the courageous snake-charming pilot. 

Not being a poet of great renown, I thought I’d contribute a small limerick to this anthology:

There once was a snake on a plane

Whose hijack attempt was in vain

Intent on fresh meat

He crawled up the seat

But the pilot somehow remained sane

Incidentally, I am surprised there have not been more incidents of this magnitude, particularly in Spain, where it is said that the snakes stay mainly on the plane.