The Snake Ranch Project
(On hold for a year.)

May 4,  2009 Stand Down

Today I sent the following email to all the friends,  supporters,  and potential investors in our China snake farm project:

Da Dawei,  Mr. Li,  and Mr. Zhang,  my  disappointed partners. They have the perfect location
on Hainan Island. They agreed to all our terms, and we're still unable to proceed for now. 
I'll see them in June to talk about next year.

Back in early September I announced that I was going to start a snake farm.  You can go back into the archives to see how I arrived at this decision,  but briefly,  here's the story:

Why a Snake Farm:

I play the violin,  and have for many years now.  When I first arrived in China I fell in love with the erhu,  the traditional Chinese two stringed violin that uses a snake skin covered drum as a resonator.  It has an amazing and distinctive sound,  at times reminiscent of the violin,  but different and hauntingly beautiful in the hands of a master performer.  I bought an erhu and started taking lessons.  Ruth bought one as well. Then I bought one for my ex-wife,  and one for each of my children,  and mailed them all back to Canada as Christmas presents.  Ruth's uncle came to visit and he also bought an erhu.  I bought one for my sister who teachers Kindermusic,  an introduction to music for very small children.   That's eight erhu purchased,  with six of them leaving China for Canada by mail.

Erhu are made from the wild Burmese python,  a snake which has been driven to extinction in China by overhunting.  Killing wild snakes is now forbidden in China,  and all skins for erhu production are now imported from Vietnam or Burma.  This is not exactly an elegant solution to the problem.

Then in September this year,  a friend of Ruth's asked me to buy her an erhu.  I did,  and took it to the post office to send off to Canada.  But this time it was different.  The post office returned the instrument,  saying it was made from snake skin and couldn't be exported without a permit.  I was... astonished.  All those erhu I see in music stores all over China,  thousands and thousands of instruments,  surely they must be made from the skins of farmed snakes.  But no.  They are made from wild snakes. 
     China has driven its wild boa population to the edge of extinction,  if not over that edge.  Now the erhu makers import from Vietnam,  Burma,  Indonesia, driving those wild snake populations onto the endangered list.  The imported skins are supposed to be from farm raised snakes,  and must be certified.  But it they are,  then why can't I send an erhu back to Canada.  Obviously the system isn't working. The treaty is enforced when a foreigner wants to send an erhu out of China,  but not when a manufacturer wants to bring in a skin from another country.

That's when I decided that China needs a snake farm:

Back in September when I made that bold announcement,  it seemed like an impossible idea.  Where on earth would I even start.  But this Spring holiday we went to Hainan Dao,  an island off the Southern coast of China, to do some research.  I didn't expect things to develop quite this quickly or this well. 

Then in September this year,  a friend of Ruth's asked me to buy her an erhu.  I did,  and took it to the post office to send off to Canada.  But this time it was different.  The post office returned the instrument,  saying it was made from snake skin and couldn't be exported without a permit.  I was... astonished.  All those erhu I see in music stores all over China,  thousands and thousands of instruments,  surely they must be made from the skins of farmed snakes.  But no.  They are made from wild snakes. 
     China has driven its wild boa population to the edge of extinction,  if not over that edge.  Now the erhu makers import from Vietnam,  Burma,  Indonesia, driving those wild snake populations onto the endangered list.  The imported skins are supposed to be from farm raised snakes,  and must be certified.  But it they are,  then why can't I send an erhu back to Canada.  Obviously the system isn't working. The treaty is enforced when a foreigner wants to send an erhu out of China,  but not when a manufacturer wants to bring in a skin from another country.

Back in September when I made that bold announcement,  it seemed like an impossible idea.  Where on earth would I even start.  But this Spring holiday we went to Hainan Dao,  an island off the Southern coast of China, to do some research.  I didn't expect things to develop quite this quickly or this well. 
     We stayed at a hotel owned by Mr. Li and his family in a tiny village called Ying Ge Hai.  We liked the family.  They were very friendly,  and treated each other very well.  And we liked Mr. Li,  who seemed to like nothing better than singing along with his karaoke machine.  He has a beautiful singing voice.

 
Jenny,  Mr. Li,  Da Dawei, and Ruth in the lobby of Mr. Li's family hotel.  A fortuitous meeting.

I asked Jenny to tell Mr. Li about my snake farm project and ask him where he thought I should look for land.  But I had no idea who we were approaching.
     Mr. Li turned out to be a government official, responsible for building housing for the poor of Sanya, with offices on the second floor of a maternity hospital,  a very busy and very influential man.  He's the perfect partner for this venture.  What's more,  his old army buddy,  Mr. Zhang,  has the perfect property.  One thousand mu (about five hundred acres) of mountain near the city of Wuzhi Shan,

That's Wuzhi Shan in the distance.  It's a major city,  and enjoyed a thriving tourist trade until the new
coastal highway diverted much of the tourist traffic.  Now it's struggling to come back.

Back in September, thoughts of farming snakes to make erhu ,  thus saving the wild snakes,  were just a pipe dream.  But you never know.  That is where things always have to start.  With a crazy idea.  Walking around on Mr. Zhang's property,  the dream started to feel a lot more real.

Ruth and our driver enjoy a papaya grown on what will become our snake ranch. 

We didn't expect the property to be as built up as it is.  The driveway is paved all the way from the main house to the excellent highway.

The buildings on the property look a bit sad at the moment,  but they are structurally sound.  A pressure washer and a few gallons of white wash will make a big difference. I sent Jenny down to that door at the end of this building to give us a sense of its size,  but you can't see her in this picture.  And that should give you an idea of its size.  Eighty meters of clear span space to play in.

There's an amazing amount of work to be done.  We've started looking for breeding stock,  and trying to find real numbers for a business plan.  My snake maven,  Tex,  is getting his passport in order.  We've got to find startup capital.

   
I was really impressed with the potential for beautifying and landscaping this property.  Lots of streams,  and lots of potential ponds.

I thought that water bubbling up indicated a spring,  but no.  It's where the little hydro turbine discharges.  
It's not enough for heating,  but it will power a television set and some lights. 

 
Here's another,  smaller building.  Solidly built from stone and concrete.  Bring in the pressure washer
and it's ready for use.

That's a fig tree above Jenny.  With figs.

The exciting thing is that the more I look at the situation,  the more potential it holds.  Between the market for skins and snake meat,  both of which are not being supplied at the moment, there's a lot of money to be made raising snakes.  That means investors can be paid back,  and the business can be grown. 

As a kid, watching Hopalong Cassidy or Roy Rogers on TV, I wanted to have my own a ranch.

Tex,  my snake expert.  His plans to move to China also on hold.

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