Jungle Date: April 11th, 2011

Are Nephila Aggressive

Today, I headed out to the Barron Gorge National Park to see what I could find. On the way up the trail I saw a goanna and a magnificent swallowtail butterfly. I then noticed the unusually high number of Golden Orb Spiders (Formerly Nephila maculata, now Nephila pilipes).

I bumped into a workman at the trail head who mentioned I was the first person up the track since Cyclone Yasi, which may explain it. Like most people, I have always had a slight fear of large spiders but always wanted to hold Nephila.

I read somewhere that Golden Orb Spiders are non-aggressive and harmless to people, so thought I would put that knowledge to the test. I also knew a cloth was made by milking silk from one million individuals of another golden orb spider and decided they must have a docile nature…

Are Nephila Aggressive

As I kept telling myself this, I went about carefully letting the spider crawl onto a leaf so I didn’t stress it out too much, noticing the smaller Argyrodes spiders in the web. These capture animals either too small for Nephila to worry about or feed off already subdued prey. I took some photos of these for another article.

Are Nephila Aggressive

After removing the spider, it abseiled down its silken thread to my feet then began to crawl up my tentatively shaking leg. I reached down to allow it to crawl onto my hand so I could get some photos.

As soon as the spider touched my skin I began to calm down and realise they are indeed non-aggressive. I was then more overwhelmed by how calm these animals are. She kept dangling down on her silken-line to get back to her tree. This allowed me to feel how strong her silk is. Silk from this spider was used to make fishing nets in some pacific areas. The webs would be layered over each other for added strength.

Are Nephila Aggressive

I couldn’t write this blog entry without including something on arachnophobia. As one of the most common phobias (irrational fears), I find this one of the more interesting because most people have a slight fear of spiders. Some say it is their many legs, hairiness, or the way they move, but few mention that it’s because a small number are potentially dangerous. I remember from psychology lectures this very fact was one of the possible explanations.

Some spiders are indeed potentially dangerous, so if you are programmed to avoid all animals that look similiar you will gain a survival advantage. This type of behaviour is exploited by some organisms to result in my current study topic, Batesian mimicry. The downfall of this theory I always felt was the sheer number of more dangerous creatures or situations that induce less fear, not to mention the overwhelming number of harmless spiders.

I also remember talks about another theory, that maybe this is a relict from a distant line of ancestry. Perhaps when our ancestors were scurrying about the undergrowth dodging these enormous eight legged predators, the fear response was so intense it left a mark on our psychology over the next 100 million years.

Far fetched perhaps, but there is currently no consensus among psychologists to the disorder’s origin. Feel free to leave your thoughts, spider stories, and own ideas for arachnophobia below.

Jungle Date: January 12th, 2011


We were told about the small nature walk upon arrival at the Daintree Wilderness Lodge. After finding my headlamp, we headed out to see what we could find. I have been on rainforest night walks and wasn’t expecting to see much wildlife, especially so close to a lodge. Because the lodge is located in the Daintree National Park, a place David Attenborough mentions as an extraordinary place to visit, I realised I might be wrong.

After seeing a multitude of creepy crawlies (a personal favourite) we heard the welcoming sound of running water as we approached the small stream at the end of the track. The walk is marked by very helpful reflective orange arrows so even I could not wander far off course, a habit I picked up in the Amazon Rainforest. “Ash…” my guide would often have to say as I followed some interesting creature into the jungle.

After arriving at the stream and scaring my girlfriend with the very unlikely presence of crocodiles, it was time to head back. As we meandered back through the darkened wilderness carefully identifying every snaking tree root as just that, I spotted a more snake-like snaking tree root. I couldn’t believe my luck, there was a scrub python stretched out over the track. This was my first experience of a wild snake in Australia and I relished the encounter. I was also quietly impressed with my snake and root distinguishing ability. After almost stepping on the most dangerous snake in South America, my snake identifying ego needed this little boost. When the initial awe and amazement wore off, it was time to bypass the snake to get back to our cabin.

If you don’t mind disturbing the animal then the best way to clear a snake from your path is to make as much noise as possible. Because I was fairly confident this was a scrub python and non-venomous, and because I wanted to take some more photographs, we walked around the snake trying not to disturb it. My panic stricken girlfriend was less than convinced by my “I’m fairly certain it’s a scrub python…maybe” and was not overly impressed by the encounter. I study zoology but my herpetology does need a little work, I admit.

In the spirit of adventure, I went first around the snake. Despite a spider web to the face it all went smoothly with the snake still in the same position. It was now my turn to spot-light the snake’s friendly looking face as my girlfriend walked around. It was in this moment that I decided humans had an innate ability to detect dangerous or more aggressive animals, or even individuals, by how they look. I am still building the theory and so far it is only bears that are an exception, but that may be the toy industries fault. Think about it, friendly looking herbivores with their eyes on the side of their head to look for danger, mean-looking carnivores with their eyes pointed forwards and pointed faces to detect and judge distance to prey. OK dogs look cute, but they have been artifically selected. Memories of picking up a friendly looking iridescent rainbow boa and getting bitten by a mean looking anaconda may be biasing my theory somewhat… “Hold the light on its head!” I hear…

Girlfriend has now made it impressively right infront of the snake, which has started to recoil into a striking pose or is about to turn around on itself. As I said, my herpetology needs some work. I let out an involuntary “umm” sound. “What does that mean??” she says as she freezes looking at the snake. “Nothing. It’s fine, but keep moving this way” I helpfully advise. She makes it and gives me a hug of relief. “Wasn’t that amazing” I say. “No” she replies. I take a few more photos and stay to watch the snake majestically disappear into the undergrowth. I return to the lodge thoroughly pleased with my encounter and impressed by the Daintree Wilderness Lodge‘s nature walk.

We flick through the identification cards helpfully placed in the lodge and find the scrub python. “See, it was a python and we had no reason to fear” I say to a less than impressed looking girlfriend. I make an informed decision to return to the library and brush up on my herpetology so I appear more convincing next time… “Next time??” Nothing dear… Here is a photo of the snake. The next morning I tell our story to Zoe the lodge manager who mentions that noone had attempted the walk at night before…

Scrub Python