Jeremy vs. The Deadly Eastern Snakehead - River Monsters - Animal Planet

Stories of people being mauled by snakeheads are not uncommon round here. But now I've picked up a more disturbing lead. I cross to the far side of Kowlem Dam, just 12 miles from Burma. People sometimes slip across the border to fish here for a day or two, then melt back into the jungle with their catch. I'm used to tall tales, but the story I'm about to hear is so freakish that no one could possibly have made it up. Thai fisherman Khun Lang vividly recalls the Burmese couple that came here three years ago to hunt snakeheads. This is a snakehead. It's black. When the fish come and stare at each other like this, it moves like this. It shoots like this. The fish is right in front of it like this. When it shoots, the iron ball will go in here, but it won't go in here. When it's far away, the iron ball will go in here, and the fish will go in here, through this mask. So what actually happened was that the fisherman was under the water with his spear gun, shot the snakehead head-on, and actually scored a direct hit. The fish then just kept on coming and shoved the rear end of the metal spear through the fisherman's mask and into his face. The fish was just panicking so much it was thrashing. Fish doesn't have a reverse gear. It just kept flapping. Apparently, the spear actually came out the back of the man's head. The wife was still sitting in the boat, dived down into the water, and found the fisherman dead. I've deliberately timed my trip here to coincide with the giant snakehead's breeding season. This is when the fish are at their most aggressive as they guard their young against all comers. A fleeting ripple shows me where the fry have just surfaced to gulp air. By dropping my lure right on top of them, I'm trying to provoke a strike from one of the parents. But it seems that these canny adults know all about fishing lures. The only snakehead that has a go is a 10-inch juvenile. Small snakehead. With the rain beating down, it soon becomes impossible to spot the fry as they surface, let alone get the attention of the parents. I'm trying to create a disturbance on the surface to wind the fish up. When the water's calm, you've got no competition. It's the only thing making a noise. When you've got rain falling on the water, the signal's very confused. You've got to land that bait much closer to the fish to get them to notice it. The weather isn't about to let up. But worse than this, and for reasons that aren't made clear, I've just been told that I'm not allowed to fish here anymore. So if I'm ever going to get face-to-face with this monster, I'm going to have to pack away my rods. And do it another way. I return to Kundar, the master hunter. My plan is to dive with him as he goes after the giant snakehead with nothing more than a pair of old goggles and a homemade spear gun. In these choppy conditions, I'm straining to spot the surfacing fry. Yet Kundar's predatory eye picks out the slight ripple that gives them away. And with our target pinpointed, the hunt can begin. I'm getting a bit nervous. It is totally another world down there. By diving with a small camera, I hope to capture the entire drama as it unfolds. Everything has to happen on a single breath. So before going under, we edge as close as we can to our target. But when Dar suddenly slips in and vanishes without trace, he leaves me scrambling to catch up. Bad weather has churned the water into a murky soup. And with Dar gone, I feel a stab of panic. I could easily wind up getting harpooned by mistake. The poor visibility is even hampering Dar. It's murky down there. It's murky. I'm having second thoughts about this. I'm starting to feel like human bait. But it's too late to pull out now. Dar is a man on a mission. When the fry break the surface, barely a boat length away, we launch again. But our quarry has vanished into the murk, leaving Dar to hunt on instinct. Dar loads. I can sense we're close. Suddenly, we're in the heart of the swarm. I think we've got one. I'm going to keep out of the way. With a single well-aimed shot, Dar has caught a giant snakehead. Sitting in a boat, dangling a line over the edge, believe me, is easy in comparison. Despite taking a direct hit, the fish simply seems to shrug it off. Oops, it wasn't like that. Having listened to accounts of its aggressive behaviour and seen for myself the scars on Sombat's foot, I'm well aware of what this river monster is capable of. So there we go. But that wonderful black and white colouration, that is very much something that the fry will identify with. Bright colour, it's calling to them. I expected this fish to end up as dinner. Yet in a strange twist of fate, it's almost unharmed. Dar's spear has pierced the muscle of its back but missed its vital organs. We're actually going to release this fish. This is catch and release spearfishing. I'm very nice that this is going to go back and it is going to recover. I'm just hoping it doesn't double back and have a go at me as a last farewell. She's actually free now. She can go if she wants. There she goes. Well, it's actually gone. Gone back into the lake to be reunited with the young. So really good to see. You don't expect to see that from a fish caught on a spear.