Albino Boa Constrictor

Some snake species get more attention from snake fanciers than do others. Ever present in our collective conscience are those snakes that form our common experience. These are the species that, at some point in our personal histories as evolving snake fanciers, opidiophilics and herpetoculturists, we mentally designated as desirable.

For some, these shared species of desire were but passing fancies, a notch on the stick of herpetological experience; for others the species hold the attention and interest of a lifetime.

There are few snake fanciers that do not or have not admired the boa constrictor. The name alone, boa constrictor, stood for all that is tropical and exotic to us in those years past when we grew more obsessed with our interest. The boa is a lovely snake, large enough to fulfill the giant snake fantasies of our younger years, yet sufficiently modest-sized to pass our mothers' scrutiny. Boas possess a muscular grace and symmetry unique to themselves, none of the local snakes available to us could compare. And who has not long stared at the beautiful but subtle facial markings, the stripe that passes through the eye, the eyelash markings, the black rostral? As those of us now in our late thirties or older remember, boas were once both inexpensive and in plentiful supply.

Albino Boa Constrictor

In 1983 the news ricocheted across the country that four newborn albino boas, imported from Colombia, were in California. The first photos of these babies were treasured as if they were valuable baseball trading cards. Those people lucky enough to have received photos were seldom seen without them in hand, and all the snake fanciers they encountered wanted a glimpse. These snakes, three males and one female, were purchased by a consortium of well-known snake breeders for a tremendous sum; the price paid for the boas (reportedly $10,000.00 each) was, in 1983, the greatest amount ever spent to purchase snakes.

Six years passed. The albinos quickly grew to adult size. They became sexually active as they grew larger, but no offspring had resulted. The owners came to the decision to sell one of the male albinos. In an act of bold confidence, Pete Kahl of Baltimore, Maryland flew to California in August, 1989, inspected the three males, selected one and flew it home.

It took bold confidence. The albino male cost $25,000.00, probably the largest amount ever paid for a single snake. It had not sired any offspring while in the care of experienced snake breeders. And Pete Kahl had never successfully reproduced boas in his life.

As quickly as possible, Pete acquired a group of six female Colombian boas and quarantined them from the male for several months. In late November the seven animals were placed together in a large cage in the basement of Pete's home. Overall the cage remained about 650 F, but an infrared heat lamp kept a small area of the floor at one end of the cage a warm 850 F. The animals usually stayed in a big pile under the warm light. During the months of December and January, the albino male repeatedly bred each female. By April and May, two of the female boas looked distinctly gravid. Both of these females produced clutches of healthy babies in June of 1990.

The babies, heterozygous for the albino trait, were normal in appearance and resembled their mothers rather than their famous father. One year later those babies were close to six feet in length, and because of their surprising large size, Pete made the decision to include them in the coming winter breeding projects. As with the adults, the young boas were fed heavily in the fall, feeding was stopped in mid-November, and in early December the group of heterozygous-albino boas were introduced together in a cage set up similar to that of the adults.

The yearlings were quite sexually active. Many copulations were witnessed during December through February. On 16 February, 1992, Pete noticed that one of the females had a distinct large midbody swelling. He took her from the group and placed her with the albino male. The pair copulated for two days, and then the albino male ceased to show any sexual interest in her.

Pete nearly camped by this female's cage during her gestation. She did look and act gravid, and now, because of her breeding with the albino male, there was the possibility that as many as 50% of her offspring could be albino. Of course, as anyone with any knowledge of boa breeding knows, there is always a good chance that nothing more than infertile egg masses will result from any captive boa breeding. Pete was admittedly frantic with anticipation, even after a sonogram done in early May revealed the movement of an indecipherable number of live babies.

At three in the afternoon of 17 June, 1992, while showing a visiting friend through his collection, Pete noticed a pile of baby boas in the cage of the gravid heterozygous female. It was a large pile, 12 babies, all live and healthy. None were albinos.

Coral Phase Albino Boa Constrictor

It's difficult to imagine just what must have run through Pete's mind in the moments after his discovery. Twelve babies seemed like a large clutch for the young female. His visiting friend made a worried inquiry about a refund on the heterozygous babies that he had earlier purchased. Then they noticed the female pushing out another baby, again a normally colored baby. Pacing back and forth in front of the cage, the two of them started a watch. During the next very long two hours several more normal babies made their appearance and then, finally, an albino was delivered. In the final count, there were three albinos born in the clutch of 22 babies. They were the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth babies to be delivered.

So the albino boa project, while still in its early stages, now can be counted as a success among the many other albino projects; corn snakes, western diamondback rattlesnakes, California kingsnakes, bullsnakes, Florida watersnakes, checkered garter snakes, Burmese pythons and other albino varieties of snakes now available all constitute definite captive lineages of animals, animals not taken from the wild. They are our domestic species, the living proof of our successes as herpetoculturists. Each of these projects was accomplished by people with strong interests and incentives. But none involved the incredible gamble at the onset as the albino boa project now accomplished by Pete Kahl.