This week, something happened to a friend of mine that tapped into my deepest of fears. I wasn’t even there but I’m still having nightmares about it. Yes. It’s that bad.

You see, he had taken a dip at Trigg beach on a warm day, and with a little bit of time to spare, he decided to laze in the sunshine a little. It was a bit breezy, so he positioned himself higher up on the beach, somewhat sheltered by the dunes. Not IN the dunes, he was quick to point out, because he doesn’t want anyone to think he’s a bit pervy. But in the vicinity of the dunes. I hope that’s clear.

Annoyed by a bunch of bugs who were flitting around, he decided to flip onto his stomach and check some emails on his phone. It didn’t stop the bugs from bugging, but he soon became engrossed in replying to an email. And then he felt a weight on his upper arm and looked to the right to see a snake gently slithering over his delts. This meant the snake’s head — AKA the bitey bit — was about 10cm from his face and it was sticking its little snakey tongue out.

I think we can all agree this is a less than ideal situation, yes?

My friend did the normal human thing and reacted without thinking. I mean, in the movies, they always tell you to stay still. But there’s zero chance anyone would actually do that. And so my mate flicked his arm as hard as he could which resulted in him assisting the snake to rear into the strike position. This, as you can imagine, was a suboptimal result. I mean, it’s better than making out with a snake, which seemed like it might have been imminent, but it’s still not ideal.

Luckily the snake was as surprised as my mate was and decided not to bite him in the face — and instead slithered off in the opposite direction. And I probably don’t need to point out that that’s a GREAT result.

Anyway, that’s why I’m never going to the beach again, in case you were wondering.

My fear of snakes has been with me for a long time. They give me both the heebies and the jeebies. I can’t even watch one on TV, especially if it’s a close-up of their little snakey faces. I can’t.

And if you also harbour a similar phobia of snakes, I would encourage you not to do what I did. I went on breakfast radio and asked people to call in with their serpentological (yes, it’s a word) encounters, because the stories that emerged were HORRIFYING.

If you thought a snake tapping you on the shoulder while you’re lying on Trigg beach was alarming, I wouldn’t read any further. Because a guy called in to tell us that he was working on a mine site up north and felt a sharp pain in his upper leg. The source of that pain was a death adder who had slithered up the leg of his trousers and sunk its fangs into his thigh. He had to reach down and pull the snake from his trouser leg by its tail. Happily, he lived to tell the tale, after three doses of anti-venom and a trip to Perth via Port Hedland.

I warned you, didn’t I? Another caller told us that when she was living in Kununurra, she left the house to go to work and a large tree snake coiled itself around her leg and started squeezing tight. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to convince a snake to not strangle your leg, but it’s not easy, apparently.

In the midst of all of this snake chatter, I stumbled on an Instagram post from a girl who lives in Exmouth who was bitten on the foot when she was heading to the beach with her family. She described IN DETAIL what it feels like to have venom coursing through your body (it’s not pleasant). Luckily, she knew to immediately lie down and relax, and they also had snake bandages in the car. They did everything right and she also scored a flight on the RFDS and ultimately lived to tell the grisly tale.

Anyway, hasn’t this been a cheerful little exercise? Clearly, I believe that sharing the trauma helps to minimise the trauma, but I don’t know how effective that really is. Still, it’s a timely reminder to keep an eye out for our slithery friends who are well and truly out and about now that the weather’s warming up.

And whatever you do, don’t let them up your trouser legs.