A “sardine survey” is not what you think. It involves neither a boat nor a trip to the coast.
The sardine survey was actually a black bear study conducted by the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources back in the 1990s. I always called it the “sardine survey” because the protocol called for hanging a partially opened can of sardines every half mile for 10 miles in the Jocassee Gorges.
Those of us who participated in the study would go back five days later and see how many of the cans had been “hit” by bears. If you did that over time, as we did, it gave the DNR an indication of up or down trends in the bear population. I actually did two 10-mile transects, from Sassafras to Pinnacle mountains, every year for more than a decade.
If you get on a four-wheeler and head out in the wilds of the Jocassee Gorges, things are going to happen.
There was a time when I took my friend, now-retired game warden Mack “Hound Dawg” Erwin, along with me. We had made our way to the top of Roundtop Mountain and I got off the four-wheeler to go check a sardine can I had hung on the edge of an old weedy logging deck. I walked up to the tree, and at the last moment, looked down at the base of the tree where a huge rattlesnake was coiled up tight and ready to strike. I was standing 18 inches away. He had me dead to rights.
The “fight or flight” instinct kicked in and I jumped backwards about two feet, but still within striking distance. Surprisingly, he did not strike.
I yelled to Hound Dawg, “Get me a stick and come look at this big rattlesnake.” I took the stick and raked the four-foot-long timber rattler away from the tree to get a better look. He had an impressive set of 19 rattles, but the thing that caught my attention was his cloudy blue eyes, indicating that he was in the process of shedding his skin and nearly blind. That’s almost certainly the thing that saved me.
Then there was the time when I was by myself down in Camp Adger. I smelled smoke and jumped off the four-wheeler. The battery had shorted out and flames were shooting out from under the seat. Fortunately, the road in Camp Adger is mostly sand. I jerked the seat off and dumped a couple of handfuls of sand on the fire, which quickly snuffed it out. Well, “there I was,” as they say. I had no cell phone to call for help, so I had to walk back home – about three miles on a hot, muggy August day.
A black bear will knock you down to get to a sardine. They absolutely love them. Helpful hint: Never take sardines on a hiking or camping trip. Also, bears have no finesse. You should see how they open a sardine can. They crunch it up like it was a Little Debbie “Nutty Bar,” puncturing the can with tooth holes to the point that it looks like somebody used it for target practice.
Dennis Chastain is a Pickens County naturalist, historian and former tour guide. He has been writing feature articles for South Carolina Wildlife magazine and other outdoor publications since 1989.
