Survival Stories
Gator Attack Survivor’s Harrowing Tale of Survival and Redemption
Under the brilliant stars over Lake Manatee, a man found himself backstroking through the dark water. Exhausted and frustrated by his lack of progress, he was determined to swim all night if he had to. Suddenly, a chilling intuition crept upon him. He sat up in the water and looked to his left. Just two feet away, the unmistakable shape of an alligator’s snout lurked, its slitted eye glowing yellow in the starlight. Before he could react, the gator struck, seizing his right forearm in its teeth. The predator twisted its powerful body, snapping the man’s arm back at the elbow. For a moment, the world went black, as if lightning had struck inside his head. Then, still firmly holding its prey, the reptile dove, intending to drown its victim in the silent midnight depths of the lake.
Eric Merda, a 43-year-old father of seven, had been on a sort of ascetic quest for the past two weeks. He had always had his struggles—addiction, street fights, run-ins with the law—but things had recently become clear. He’d come to accept that his relationship with the mother of five of his children was over. He’d also begun to realize he was running with a dangerous crowd. Intelligent, creative, and spiritual, Merda knew he’d been on the wrong track. He believed God was telling him to clean up his act and live up to his gifts.
Merda spent his days laboring under the Florida sun, installing and repairing sprinkler systems, a job he’d done for 25 years. By evening, he’d wander and explore. For the first time, he had no woman or children to go home to. He spent much of his surplus time on Siesta Key Beach, where he gave himself daring challenges. He often slept unsheltered on the sand of Siesta Key. One morning he awoke to see litter scattered along the beach, and felt God telling him that he ought to clean it up. He began collecting trash. It felt good, so he made a habit of picking up litter wherever he saw it, not just on the beach. It became a kind of compulsion.
On Monday, July 18, 2022, he had a job in the rural parts of Manatee County. He finished by late afternoon and decided to explore. He spotted a dirt road with a sign that read Lake Manatee Fish Camp. He drove his old white work van down into the area, past a little country store and some folks pitching horseshoes, and followed the road. It ended at a boat ramp onto Lake Manatee, a man-made reservoir covering about four square miles, surrounded by wild swampland. Trash lay strewn along the roadside. Merda jumped out of his van, leaving his phone and keys inside, and started collecting the garbage into piles.
After a while, he decided to explore the woods. He ran off into the trees with the abandon of a schoolboy. Before long, he encountered a seemingly impenetrable thicket of brush, thorns, and vines. He charged into it and battled for many long minutes. It was exhausting, but he pushed on. When he finally emerged into a grove of scrawny orange trees, he was sweaty, cut up, and tired. He had no idea where he was in relation to the lake. He’d been pushing through the thicket for hours, and now all he wanted was to get back to his van and go home.
He spent another couple of hours wandering among the orange trees, which were laid out in an endless grid. No sign of civilization. The lake and his van certainly weren’t out here in an orange grove, so he reentered the woods and soon found himself mucking around in swamp water. There seemed no way out of this bog. He labored for hours as the sun sank. Tall, thick grasses and thorns clogged his way; mud and water filled his boots. His feet hurt so badly that he took his boots off and carried them—but the twigs and brambles lacerated his soles, so he stopped and pulled the boots back on. He tried to navigate by the sun but kept losing it. Each time he picked out a landmark or chose a beeline course, he became hopelessly lost again after just a few minutes.
Darkness was falling when at last he reemerged onto the shore of the lake. There across the water stood the boat launch, now empty, and a little highway bridge, less than a quarter-mile away as the crow flies—or as the duck swims. He was beaten, sore, and thirsty. Reenter the swamp? Out of the question. Who knew where he’d end up? He’d have to swim for it across the lake.
The water was surprisingly cold, especially as it deepened. He started out paddling strongly for the opposite bank, drinking lake water to quench his awful thirst. After a few minutes he realized he’d never make it with his clothes on. He shed every stitch, letting his work clothes sink to the bottom of the dark lake.
He swam on, but some strange current prevented his progress. He was a good swimmer, yet he somehow kept diverging from his goal. He’d point himself at the boat launch, swim a few strokes, lift his head and find that he was way off course. It was maddening, but he refused to surrender to emotion. In a fistfight, the guy who comes into it panicking, with no self-control, he’s the one who gets whooped. The sun disappeared and the stars came out, and still he struggled, alternating between a backstroke and a crawl.
And that’s when he saw the alligator. Before he could swim a stroke, before he could save himself, before he could let out a scream, the creature struck like a snake. It sank its teeth into Merda’s forearm, breaking it at the elbow, and dragged him underwater.
Merda went into fight mode. He flung his other arm around the gator’s middle, clutching at its heaving belly as he kicked his feet to keep from going to the bottom. Man and beast resurfaced and Merda gulped air—but just as quickly the gator yanked him under again. The third time, the alligator did what alligators do: It barrel-rolled its entire body in a vicious coup de grâce, and Merda felt the flesh of his arm tearing away as the limb was severed. The creature disappeared into the darkness, carrying Merda’s forearm with it.
No pain yet, only terror. His one thought was to get out of the water. He swam furiously, paddling with the stump, and came to rest at the lake’s edge not far from where he had entered. He paused for a time, heaving, in the partially submerged grasses. Nearby stood an enormous tree on drier ground. He dragged himself over to it and stood screaming for help across the desolate lake.
Then he realized, I’m the only one who can get myself out of this. Just like I’m the only one who can fix every other part of my life. He posted up next to the trunk of the tree and waited for dawn.
When the pain arrived, it was exquisite.
In the morning, he spotted two airplanes. Each time, he climbed up the tree and waved and hollered, which did him no good. He was stark naked in the wilderness, bereft of his right forearm and with nothing to use for a signal. Again, he started pushing through the tall grasses and immediately became lost anew, wandering in circles. He decided the best course was to reenter the water and wade the lake’s edge, following its quarter-mile curve until it reached the boat launch.
But that proved nearly impossible too. Submerged logs, tall grasses, saw grasses, overhanging brush, and sudden drop-offs stymied his progress. He howled in pain when he blundered into a stick that poked into the exposed muscle of his right arm. Chest-deep in the murky water, he looked behind him, and there, 100 feet away, stared the bumpy eyes of the alligator—or an alligator, anyway—silently following him. He moved to shallower water and the gator eyes sank beneath the surface. All through the long day, as he struggled along, the creature dogged him. Maddeningly, thanks to the meandering shoreline, the boat launch appeared farther away than ever.
As night fell, he happened upon a concrete structure at the lake’s edge, no doubt part of the reservoir system. Hungry, thirsty, and in agony, he haltingly climbed onto it, stretched out, and slept. He awoke in darkness with the horrifying awareness that he was only a couple of feet above the swamp water with his left arm dangling off the structure like a second proffered morsel. That was enough. He wanted out of the swamp. He wanted dry land.
Up till then, Merda had been ambivalent about life and death. Now he could hear God telling him, “All right. After this, I don’t want to hear any more. If you choose to die, you choose to die. If you choose to live, then good luck to you, because it’s not going to be easy.” He’d always figured his concept of God would get him kicked out of most churches: By his philosophy, since we’re all made in God’s image, God is part of each of us, and each of us is part of God. Thus, to have faith in God is to have faith in oneself, and to quarrel with God is to quarrel with oneself. And he was done quarreling with himself.
In the dark, he blundered his way through an eternity of 10-foot-tall grasses whose roots lay beneath knee-deep water. Disoriented again. The sun dawned on a new day, his third out here, and before long the Florida heat set the swampland to broiling. Green horseflies swarmed his injury where the naked muscle twitched and the bare bone gleamed. The land was so soggy that even when he wasn’t standing in water, he could scoop at the earth with his good hand and a little puddle of filthy drinking water would fill the depression he’d made. He nibbled at some tiny purple flowers growing throughout the swamplands.
He began to fade, utterly spent and bloodied. But he’d made his decision. He’d chosen life, even if it meant the pain and frustration of endless struggle. Whenever his fatigue overwhelmed him, he pushed over the tall grasses to make a mat on which to sleep.
His quest was dry land, and at last he found it—only to discover it overwhelmingly choked with thorny vines. It was either the swamp or this endless wall of thorns—no getting around it, over it, or under it. He must push through. It’s just a little pain, he told himself. You aren’t even going to remember it once it’s gone. So he dragged himself into the bramble, crab-walking at times, getting sliced and punctured, pausing periodically to psych himself up for more pain.
In late afternoon, he came across a brown quart beer bottle lying in the mud like a signal from civilization. He knew now that he was saved. How far can somebody throw a beer bottle—40 feet? That meant just 40 feet to the road. You can go another 40 feet.
He did, and when he exited the thorns he found that he was staggering alongside the road near the turnaround spot for the boat launch. On the other side of a wire fence, a man stood beside a red car.
The man goggled at the stranger, naked save for the blood and mud that covered his body. “What are you doing back there?” he said.
“A gator got me!” Merda answered, waving his stump. “You got any water?”
“Holy … ! I don’t have any water, but I’ll get you some, for sure.”
The fence was the final obstacle between him and civilization. Merda had had enough. He lay down in the weeds on the swamp side of the divider and waited for the EMTs, who would cut the fence wire and carry him over to the helicopter that would whisk him away to the rest of his life.
Merda spent nearly three weeks in a Sarasota hospital. His wound had become infected in the swamp, so surgeons removed considerably more than the alligator had taken, leaving him with only about six inches of arm past the shoulder. It’s incredible that he didn’t bleed to death—but, by some miracle, he says, the wound barely bled.
He ate like a machine in the hospital, and sent a buddy out for one entree not on the kitchen’s menu: gator bites.
On his release, he tried to return to work. “I can still dig a hole,” he says. “But it’s with one hand, very slowly.”
It wasn’t practical to take up his old trade. So now he’s casting about for some way to make a living while sharing the things he’s learned. Consult? Teach? Write a children’s book? Take up public speaking? Try to become a comedian?
He says he wants to inspire people to think, If a skinny little dude from Sarasota, Florida, can fight a gator and walk out of the swamp, why am I afraid to open my own business, go to college or get a contractor’s license?
The road ahead won’t be easy. But then again, that was part of the deal with God. Sometimes he feels at a loss, as if his dreams sound too ambitious, too ridiculous. But, Merda says with the wisdom of a man who has done battle with the divine, “It sounded pretty ridiculous that I was going to make it out of that swamp alive too.”
Our Thoughts
The story of Eric Merda is an incredible testament to the human spirit’s resilience and determination. His journey is a vivid reminder that survival isn’t just about physical prowess but also mental fortitude.
Merda’s battle with an alligator and the subsequent struggle to escape the swamp is harrowing, but it’s his internal transformation that truly stands out. He was on a personal quest for self-improvement and redemption even before his encounter with the alligator.
His struggle in the swamp serves as a metaphor for his life’s challenges – addiction, broken relationships, and a dangerous lifestyle. His decision to fight for his life, despite the odds, mirrors his resolve to clean up his act and live up to his potential.
Merda’s story is a reminder that survival is not just about overcoming physical challenges but also about conquering inner demons. His strength and determination in the face of adversity are inspiring. His journey sends a powerful message about the importance of self-belief and the will to survive, no matter the circumstances.
It’s a lesson we can all learn from. No matter what we’re going through, we have the power to overcome and survive. Merda’s story is a testament to the indomitable human spirit.
Let us know what you think, please share your thoughts in the comments below.
As someone who’s spent a fair bit of time in the great outdoors, I’ve learned a thing or two about the importance of navigation. Now, I’m not talking about the kind you use to find the nearest gas station on a road trip. I’m talking about the kind that can mean the difference between life and death when you’re stranded in the wilderness. And in this day and age, that means understanding GPS technology.
GPS, or Global Positioning System, is a network of satellites that orbit the Earth, transmitting signals that can be picked up by devices on the ground. These signals are used to calculate the device’s exact location, anywhere in the world. It’s a powerful tool, and it’s revolutionizing the way we approach wilderness rescues.
When you’re lost in the wilderness, every minute counts. The longer you’re exposed to the elements, the greater your risk of hypothermia, dehydration, and injury. Traditional search and rescue methods can take hours, even days, to locate a lost individual. But with GPS, rescuers can pinpoint a person’s location in a matter of minutes.
GPS technology is not just about speed, though. It’s also about accuracy. In dense forests or rugged mountain terrain, it’s easy for rescuers to miss a person, even if they’re just a few feet away. But with GPS, they can zero in on a person’s exact location, reducing the risk of a missed rescue.
But here’s the thing: GPS technology is only as good as the device it’s used on. That’s why it’s so important to have a reliable, high-quality GPS device when you’re venturing into the wilderness. And no, I’m not talking about the GPS on your smartphone. While that might be fine for city navigation, it’s not designed to withstand the rigors of the great outdoors.
When choosing a GPS device, there are a few key features to look for. First and foremost, it should be rugged and waterproof, able to withstand drops, dust, and water. It should also have a long battery life, as you never know how long you’ll need it. And it should have a clear, easy-to-read display, so you can quickly and easily read your coordinates, even in harsh lighting conditions.
Another important feature is the ability to send and receive messages. Some GPS devices come equipped with two-way satellite communication, allowing you to send an SOS signal and communicate with rescuers in an emergency. This feature can be a literal lifesaver, enabling you to convey vital information about your condition and situation.
It’s also worth considering a device with mapping capabilities. Detailed topographic maps can help you navigate unfamiliar terrain and plan the safest route. And with some devices, you can even download maps and updates via satellite, so you’re always equipped with the most up-to-date information.
But remember, while GPS technology is an incredible tool, it’s not a substitute for knowledge and skills. You should still learn how to read a map and compass, understand basic survival skills, and know what to do in an emergency. Because when it comes down to it, technology can fail, but your knowledge and skills can’t.
So, whether you’re a seasoned adventurer or a weekend hiker, don’t underestimate the power of GPS technology. It could be the difference between being lost and being found. But remember, it’s just a tool. The real key to survival is you.
The world of AK variants is as diverse as it is contentious, with every gun enthusiast seeming to have a firm opinion on which model reigns supreme. Among the cacophony of voices, one recommendation often rings out: “Just get a WASR!”
The Romanian-made WASR series has carved out a niche in the U.S. imported firearms market, often hailed as the gold standard of affordable AKs available in the country. Century Arms, one of the largest firearms importers in the U.S., attributes much of its success to the “massive demand” for the WASR.
The question that remains is whether the WASR lives up to its legendary reputation. Is it the go-to AK variant for those on a budget? To answer these questions, we’ll delve into our experiences with the rack-grade WASR-10 in 7.62×39, from firing and handling to a thorough inspection by a qualified AK gunsmith.
The WASR series, imported by Century Arms, is built by Cugir Arms Factory in Cugir, Romania. The factory has a rich history, evolving from an iron-processing facility established in 1799 in the hills of Transylvania. The WASR-10 is essentially a semi-automatic version of the Pistol Mitralieră model 1963 (PM md. 63), a licensed version of the Soviet AKM. With its simple wood furniture and well-known design, these Romanian rifles are a no-frills variant of the AKM.
The WASR we have today is the result of years of improvements. One of the most significant upgrades is the elimination of “trigger slap” in current models through an aftermarket trigger. This issue, which involves the bolt slapping back into the hammer as it travels, impacting the disconnector/trigger and snapping it back into the shooter’s trigger finger, is thankfully uncommon in modern AKs like the current WASR-10 offerings from Century.
Before testing, we had local AK expert Josh from Copperhead USA in Tempe, Arizona, inspect our WASR. It’s important to remember that AKs often require real gunsmithing, unlike other platforms where swapping internal components is relatively straightforward. AK tolerances can vary greatly, even from the same factories at different times. If you’re considering delving deeper into the AK platform, investing time and money in learning to be competent rather than just enthusiastic is well worth it.
Our WASR-10 was in good shape when we unboxed it, as expected from a basic imported AK. However, AKs require many parts to be pressed and/or riveted together, and if done incorrectly, it can lead to serious issues down the line. Josh checked the headspace, as it’s possible for an AK to fire out of battery, which can cause serious problems. Our WASR was found to have good headspace after appropriate gauging. Josh also noted that it had a tight chamber, which we’ll discuss later. It’s not uncommon to find a canted (i.e., tilted) front iron sight post on an imported AK, but luckily, our WASR’s sights were fine.
The rest of the issues were purely cosmetic, but it’s important to have some knowledge of the platform to make those distinctions. The gas block was slightly canted, and the slant brake muzzle device didn’t sit flush on the muzzle due to the detent retaining it being slightly too long. It appeared the bolt carrier had been dropped at some point, as there was a small ding on the top of the carrier just forward of the recoil spring assembly. The safety was also remarkably tight, even after bending it out, which is another common issue with many AKs.
The wood furniture was nothing special; in fact, it even manifested some unexpected issues during testing. The trigger was a typical spongy AK trigger with a tactile reset and a curved bow. Based on everything we saw, this wasn’t a cherry-picked rifle and is a good measure of what you can expect from a WASR-10.
Testing was straightforward — the best way to test a new rifle is to fire it. In particular, firing an AK with a tight chamber helps fit the bolt to the chamber, reducing that issue. We loaded 500 rounds of Red Army Standard steel case 7.62×39 ammo into four different types of mags for our break-in range day. These included US PALM AK30R magazines, XTech MAG47 polymer magazines with steel locking lugs, Magpul MOE magazines, and Bulgarian steel 30-round mags from GunMag Warehouse.
The first mags of all four types presented no issues. However, the second XTech mag failed to feed on the last round, which also set the bullet back in the casing far enough to make us discard that round. Other than that, the only magazine issue we experienced was difficulty seating them, which is a combination of needing to break in the mag release lever and the mags themselves.
As we fired round after round, the rifle’s entire barrel and handguard were rippling with heat and smoke, but it kept going. After firing 500 rounds of steel-case ammo in less than 30 minutes during our aggressive break-in test, the WASR-10 held up remarkably well. Sure, it had a few minor issues out of the box, but most were purely cosmetic, and none would be insurmountable without a minor repair or continued use to break in the components.
With an MSRP of $1,070, the WASR-10 from Century Arms isn’t the cheapest AK you can buy, but it remains one of the best value-for-money options on the market. If you’re shopping for your first AK or simply want a reliable, durable rifle, it’s worth considering. However, if you’re expecting a flawless finish, 1 MOA accuracy, and the ability to add a modern sighting system without purchasing an aftermarket mount, you might want to consider a different AK or even a different platform altogether.
AKs continue to be a staple of the American firearms market, even as prices rise. If you’re looking for an affordable, reliable, and fun-to-shoot AK, the WASR-10 from Century is a solid choice. As it turns out, its reputation is well-deserved.
Our Thoughts
The WASR-10 is indeed an interesting piece of hardware. Its reputation as a budget-friendly yet reliable AK variant is well-earned, as our experience suggests. The Romanian roots and the long history of the Cugir Arms Factory lend an air of authenticity that is hard to ignore.
The AK platform is not without its challenges, as indicated by the need for real gunsmithing. That said, the WASR-10 seems to have overcome many of these issues, thanks to years of improvements. The elimination of the “trigger slap” is a significant enhancement, making the WASR-10 a more user-friendly option for AK enthusiasts.
We appreciate the thorough inspection by our local AK expert, Josh. It’s a reminder that a well-built AK requires careful assembly and the right expertise. The WASR-10 passed the test with flying colors, only showing minor cosmetic issues that don’t affect its functionality.
The WASR-10’s performance during testing was commendable, holding up well despite the aggressive break-in test. This robustness, coupled with its affordability, makes it an attractive option for those seeking a reliable AK variant.
It’s worth noting that the WASR-10 isn’t for everyone. If you’re after a flawless finish, pinpoint accuracy, or the ability to add a modern sighting system without additional expenditure, you might want to look elsewhere. However, for those seeking an affordable, reliable, and enjoyable AK experience, the WASR-10 is a solid choice, and its reputation is well-deserved.
Let us know what you think, please share your thoughts in the comments below.
In the intricate dance of contemporary warfare, the urban landscape often serves as the stage. The past and present suggest that future conflicts will inevitably seep into the arteries of our cities, necessitating a deep understanding of urban defense strategies. This notion is investigated by John Spencer and Jayson Geroux of the Modern War Institute at the West Point Military Academy. They assert, “if leveraged effectively, a solid urban defense can decisively tip the scales of war.”
Urban environments are complex mazes of buildings, streets, and alleys, creating a unique battlefield that differs greatly from open fields or forests. Historic urban battles, such as the renowned Battle of Stalingrad or the struggle for Mosul, provide valuable lessons on effective urban defense. The key lies in preparation, strategic planning, and the ability to swiftly adapt tactics as situations evolve.
Narrow urban pathways, such as alleys, can serve as choke points, disrupting the advance of an enemy force and potentially providing an opportunity to employ massing effect strategies.
When devising a defense strategy for a city, there are several key tactics derived from military guides and historical precedents:
* Disruption: This strategy involves fracturing the unity of the enemy’s forces, hindering their ability to effectively execute their plans. In urban settings, disruption can be achieved by manipulating the terrain to divide enemy units, impair their communications, and disrupt their logistics, effectively slowing their momentum and making them more susceptible to counteractions.
* Massing Effects: This principle refers to the concentration of combat power at the right place and time to achieve maximum impact. In urban defense, massing effects might involve concentrating firepower in an area likely to be breached by the enemy or organizing forces discreetly for a surprise counterattack against an advancing adversary.
* Flexibility: A crucial element of any successful defense, flexibility refers to the ability to rapidly adapt to changing circumstances. This includes altering tactics in response to enemy movements, repositioning forces to exploit newly identified weaknesses in the enemy’s approach, and adapting defensive measures to accommodate the evolving urban landscape.
Urban centers are filled with potential resources to create obstructions to enemy movements.
Examining how soldiers defended “Pavlov’s House” in Stalingrad or utilized ruined buildings in Ortona provides valuable insights for modern urban defense.
As the nature of warfare evolves, so must our methods of defending cities. Combining time-tested strategies with modern technology will prepare us for future conflicts. Cities offer a multitude of ways to protect and defend, and leveraging lessons from the past will aid in devising intelligent plans for future conflicts.
This knowledge is not only vital for military commanders, but the skills and tactics involved in urban defense are also invaluable to civilians attempting to survive amidst conflict. This was explored in Selco Begovic’s interview recorded in the SHTF Anthology, which underscores the importance of understanding and mastering urban defense.
Defending a city requires as much intellectual prowess as physical strength. Urban defense is a blend of art and science, demanding a comprehensive understanding of both the physical and historical landscapes of urban combat. Looking forward, the lessons gleaned from past urban battles, combined with a solid grounding in military doctrine, will equip today’s defenders with the strategies necessary to secure victory.
Our Thoughts
The urban landscape’s complexity indeed presents a unique battlefield, as the article rightly suggests. The notion of urban defense is not just a military strategy; it’s a survival skill that could prove vital for civilians caught in the throes of conflict.
The key elements of disruption, massing effects, and flexibility are fundamentally sound strategies. Disruption, in particular, resonates with our survivalist ethos, as it mirrors the idea of using the environment to your advantage.
However, the article’s emphasis on the importance of historical precedents is crucial. The Battle of Stalingrad, the struggle for Mosul, and the defense of “Pavlov’s House” offer invaluable lessons that can be applied in modern urban defense strategies.
The idea of blending time-tested strategies with modern technology is intriguing. As we often advocate, the best survival strategies combine traditional wisdom with modern advancements.
Finally, the assertion that defending a city requires intellectual prowess as much as physical strength aligns perfectly with our belief that survival is as much a mental game as it is a physical one.
In conclusion, the article offers a compelling exploration of urban defense that resonates with our survivalist mindset. It reiterates the importance of being prepared, adaptable, and resourceful—principles that are the very essence of survivalism.
Let us know what you think, please share your thoughts in the comments below.
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Estella
March 11, 2024 at 3:26 pm
Miracle God was with him all the way Jesus n the Holy Spirit all 3 in one guided him a huge Miracle how mysterious God works in a human HEART AMEN GOD This man’s story brought me closer to GOD