Despite invoking fear into the heart of the bravest of souls, snakes are Ellen Richings’s passion. She is a fierce protector of them, and the epitome of the exotic enchantress or snake charmer of days long gone.
With spring is in full swing and the days warming up, snakes are on the move early, with browns, red-bellied blacks, carpet pythons and common tree snakes a few of the snakes seen recently in the Sunshine Coast hinterland. “Protections appear to be working as wild snake numbers seem to be higher,” Ellen says.
Australian Wildlife Week is October 1-6, and Ellen knows more about the creatures of the Australian bush than most.
As a woman in her 50s, Ellen is far from being your typical mother or nanna. Her 155 cm, slender build combines with obvious self-confidence: her flowing black hair contrasts against a bright white cotton shirt and faded jeans. She oozes a sense of ease, comfort, freedom and being at one with nature. Her knowledge and experience of the Australian wilderness and her beloved creatures is extensive.
Ellen always felt a connection with her Indigenous ancestry with the Awabakal Peoples, of the east coast, north of Sydney. She grew up in suburban Brisbane, but it was not where she felt she fitted. “I didn’t understand how all those people were living in the chaos of the city,” Ellen says.
She moved to the Sunshine Coast hinterland just before the birth of her first child, seeking a more tranquil and quality lifestyle. “It was like coming home,” she says. “Mount Eerwah is part of this area too and eerwah is the Indigenous word for death adder. I’ve only ever seen one here.”
Ellen adores animals, but says she is frightened of cows and horses, her face crinkling up with laughter at her perceived silliness. “Birds are little souls that are the most endearing,” she says. But her love for reptiles is strongest. “Snakes are cute, pretty, strong, and admirable but misunderstood,” she says. “I used to have a fear of snakes because they would kill my birds and frogs. Someone once told me, ‘A little girl like you shouldn’t handle these big snakes. They’ll get the better of you,’ which reinforced my fear.”
But Ellen also wanted to understand her fear and came to realise it was irrational: a phobia. She also felt a need to understand why it had become illegal to kill snakes, and recognised her learning was incremental, especially after she owned her first python.
“There is an enormous difference between a wild reptile and a captive-bred one. It’s not cruel to have (a captive-bred snake). And not every snake wants to hunt you down and kill you,” she says. “After a few years, I realised that handling non-venomous and venomous snakes was similar. It is not much harder to learn the additional skills needed. You just have to get past their treacherous reputations.”
She completed two courses to build her confidence and broaden her knowledge and expertise. “Originally, I thought I could earn money doing something I love. I love snakes and I want to save them,” she says. “However, once people realise there is a fee attached to the service, they would often hang up and opt to kill the snake. I discovered there was this awful side to it where people were okay if the service was free. They did not even want to cover fuel to relocate the snake.”
Ellen stopped charging fees. “I started losing sleep, knowing that people would kill the snakes. Eventually I stopped going to call-outs altogether.” She struggles with the sadness of knowing that misidentification is a frequent problem. “Often the snake they kill is not dangerous but should still be removed by a professional. Now I just do it for friends and family,” she says.
“If you try to kill a snake, there is always a chance it will tag you,” she says. “Even if you are experienced, things can still go wrong. Most people are bitten because they have done something other than leave it alone. I still get nervous when I go for a venomous snake, and I think you should be. If you get confident and you’re not nervous or worried about all the possibilities of what could go wrong, that’s when it can go wrong.”
Ellen encounters a wide variety of wildlife on her regular hiking adventures. She might compliment the occasional snake she passes, but leaves them to themselves. Sadly, some snakes she sees have endured tough times.
“There was a huge python that had survived being run over by a slasher. It had scar patterns on its body in intervals showing it had been curled up when it was cut,” she says, struggling with the emotion. “Wow, what an impressive animal to get to that size and survive the wounds, infection and other predators while still having to feed itself. What a beast. Other animals in the same situation would not have survived.”
Ellen’s fear is now part of her life experience — something in her past. “Snakes make me feel relaxed. They are chill,” she says.
Ellen likes to travel the country, hiking, exploring and photographing the world around her: her happy place is in the bush with the wildlife. “When you’re there, you realise the wildlife isn’t so wild,” she says. “It’s not the wildlife that will kill you. I’ve had this awakening and it’s crazy, but I feel that all these animals are so endearing: even fish.”
