Real Survival Stories - Upended in a Lake: Ivory Coast Ambush

Episode Date: June 25, 2025

Jon Ritchey sets out on a relaxing fishing trip in the Ivory Coast - a West African country that is close to his heart. But out on the tranquil water, Jon’s boat - and life - are turned upside down. He and his family have inadvertently strayed into the territory of one of the continent’s deadliest animals. Despite the best efforts of father and uncle, when the young man finds himself in its lethal grasp, it seems there will be only one outcome... A Noiser production, written by Nicole Edmunds. For ad-free listening, bonus material and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Click the subscription banner at the top of the feed to get started. Or go to noiser.com/subscriptions If you have an amazing survival story of your own that you’d like to put forward for the show, let us know. Drop us an email at [e-mail] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

It is early afternoon on July 19, 1979, in West Africa's Cote d'Ivoire, the Ivory Coast. Golden rays from the scorching African sun glisten on the surface of Lake Kosu. The water is a bright turquoise, patterned by shadows from overhanging branches. Its tranquility is broken only by the occasional ripple of birds landing on its surface, or fish speeding through the depths. A gentle breeze stirs the trees, and the buzz of insect and animal life fills the air. Then, without warning, the serene surface of the lake breaks. Its ripples turn to waves and flashes of red, green and blue explode into the sky as the birds take off panicked. In the now turbulent shallows, the head of a man emerges.

His mouth agape as he gasps for air, his arms flailing in all directions. This is 21-year-old Jonathan Ritchie, and he's being pursued by one of nature's deadliest creatures. I can remember feeling the leathery head under my feet as I pushed off. I was running out of air as I pushed off from his head and headed for the surface. I needed air desperately. John blinks the water from his eyes and opens his mouth as wide as possible, gulping for oxygen. Beneath the surface, his limbs kick wildly.

His right leg is weak due to a savage bite he received moments ago. But his left leg is still strong enough to allow him to tread water. Just. Flicking his wet hair from his eyes, John looks up and tries to take in the scene around him. Darting his head this way and that, he spies two figures in the near distance, his dad and his uncle. When the boat had overturned, my dad had swum to a little tree about four inches in diameter and was holding onto that in the water. My Uncle Ray was by the overturned boat, was just holding onto that in the water. My Uncle Ray was by the overturned boat,

was just holding onto that. And so when my dad saw me coming to the surface, he said, John, swim for me. But John is greatly weakened. His muscles are jelly, his right leg throbs from the open wound, and blood is draining from his body. He takes a deep breath as he prepares to swim

in the direction of his dad. But before he has taken his first stroke, a splash echoes from behind. The beast has returned and is coming for him again. Again, I was violently pulled under the water. He pulled me back down to the bottom of that lake. Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes? If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice?

Welcome to real survival stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. People suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet Jonathan Ritchie. In July 1979, while enjoying a relaxing fishing trip on the Ivory Coast's largest lake, John's boat and life is turned upside down. They come right up in front of us and had grabbed a hold of my leg and his tooth actually went right through my leg,

right above my right ankle, and hooked me just like you would a fish. John and his family have inadvertently strayed into the territory of one of the deadliest animals in Africa, a species thought to be responsible for around 500 human deaths a year. So when the young man finds himself in its lethal grasp, it seems there will only be one outcome. There's no way to escape.

At that point, it was like, I'm dead. You know, there's nothing you can do about this. John will need to rely on heroics from his family, sheer grit, and a few miracles. As one wild creature takes him to the brink of death, another could help to provide his unlikely salvation. I'm John Hopkins from the Noiza Podcast Network. This is Real Survival Stories. It's early morning on July 19, 1979, in Bois-Qui, the second largest city in the Ivory Coast, located right in the heart of the country.

Silver slivers of the pale morning sun creep over the urban sprawl and bounce off the distinctive telecom tower that looms in the center of town. The roads are already filling up with mopeds and people, long, straight pathways through the jumble of shops and houses. In a quieter neighborhood, 21-year-old Jonathan Richie is carrying fishing equipment along a driveway. He is preparing to get out of the city, to spend some quality time in nature. He loads a truck with his gear, calling on the help of his dad, Clyde, and his uncle

Ray. One by one the men clamber into the vehicle. Clyde twists the key, and the engine sputters to life. They share a look of excitement as their morning adventure begins. They're going on a traditional family trip that John has enjoyed since childhood. This was an event that we had done previously in a small boat. As time had passed since my childhood there, the fish had gotten bigger and bigger,

so I was really looking forward to catching some very large fish. Some of these fish would get up to 50, sometimes even 75 pounds. Growing up in the Ivory Coast, practical physical skills like hunting and fishing have always been a part of John's life. As a young child, his dad taught him how to be good with his hands, from catching and cooking wild animals

to fixing car engines and basic carpentry skills. I grew up very independent and knew how to survive on my own, and even today I would describe myself as a survivalist. Put me out in the woods somewhere on an island, gave me a few simple tools, and I would know how to survive. So I grew up hunting, I grew up fishing. So I knew a lot of practical skills, knew how to work with my hands. My environment enabled me to learn all those kinds of skills

and the ability to survive in probably very difficult situations. A child of American missionaries, John and his family straddled two continents, spending most of their time in Africa but returning to the U.S. every four years. Though the travel no doubt broadened John's world, the culture shock wasn't always an easy one to balance. I was very connected to the African culture. I remember going back to the States and feeling very out of place.

1976, flying back to the United States with my sister. First thing I did is I got on a bus with a whole bunch of other kids that were going to an event. This is my first time back after four years. They would stop at a gas station, all get off, and of course they knew what to do, you know, go to the Coke machines, how to put your quarter in or whatever it was.

I had no idea how to get a soda pop from the machine. So I kind of had to sit back and watch, you know, and observe and figure things out. This cultural dissonance ate away at John all through his teenage years and even into early adulthood when he found himself studying full time in the States. Eventually, in 1979, after three years of schooling at Toccoa Falls College in the state of Georgia, he decided it was time for a reset.

I was kind of a lost puppy at that point. I didn't know exactly what I wanted to do with my life. My response to that was to just, you know, get on a plane and get back to Africa and get away from my current environment and try to figure things out. John's plane touches down on the warm tarmac of West Africa in mid-July. He begins his trip by traveling back to the town of his childhood, Chibiso. Here he spends a few days reconnecting with old friends before moving on to his parents' city, Buake. It's not long before his dad, Clyde, suggests they go fishing. John leaps at the opportunity, not just to get out into the beautiful Ivorian wilderness,

but to get back to spending some quality time with his old man. My dad spent an enormous amount of time with us as kids. Although he was gone many times for weeks at a time doing his work, we always felt like we had our dad's attention, with both of my parents actually. So you could say that we were very close. So you could say that we were very close. Joining them for this trip is John's uncle Ray. The three men are heading to Lake Kosu, the largest lake in the Ivory Coast, just under 40 kilometers away. The immense body of water was created just six years ago

as part of a hydraulic dam system to generate electricity for the area. As a result of its size, it is abundant with fish. Enough for local villagers to make a living, and for day trippers to be guaranteed a decent catch or two. As the truck rumbles out of the city, John sighs happily. Clyde and Ray share a joke, and the three men absorb the promise of a great day ahead. The three fishermen reach the lake's peaceful shores by mid-morning

and step out of the truck into the lush wilderness. Hidden between thickets of brush and sparse forest with only the sounds of wildlife for company, it's as if they're in their own world. They clamber into their little boat and push out onto the gentle water, a peaceful canvas surrounded by greenery. As the hours pass and the sun climbs higher in the sky, the men fill the time paddling through the shallows, chatting, laughing, and reminiscing about previous trips, all while keeping their eyes peeled for any signs

of fish. We would just kind of maneuver around these logs and small trees and things and fish. Sometimes we would actually just stop and maybe get off the boat onto one of these huge logs and just, you know, throw a line out and fish that way. As predicted, the lake is brimming with capitain fish, and it isn't long before the trio have filled their buckets with the chunky perch. They discover that most of the fish lurk around the shallows.

So as the morning melts into the afternoon, they steer their boat towards the shore and gently cruise around on the lookout. The warm wind balances against the cool refreshment of the lake. Yellow and green leaves from overhanging branches dip into the aquamarine water as snippets of birdsong fill the air. It's an idyll. But little do they know that something sinister is lurking just beneath the exquisite surface. Surrounded by his family in the wilderness where he grew up, John allows himself to relax. He peels off his shirt and dangles his bare feet in the cool waters, letting the stresses of the past few months wash away. The little fishing boat cruises through the shallows, brushing past

reeds and meandering between floating chunks of wood. At one point, John, perched on the edge of the boat, notices that they're approaching a particularly large log. He extends his leg to push off of it and prevent a collision. But just as he does, the water around him erupts. An almighty splash overpowers the boat, capsizing it and sending all three men into the water. Johnny's plunged deep beneath the surface. The sunlight disappears meter by meter as he plummets to the bottom of Lake Koso.

It's clear that something greater than the current is dragging him down. What had happened is the hippopotamus had come right up under the water, had come right up in front of us, and had grabbed a hold of my leg and jerked me out of the boat and his tooth actually went right through my leg right above my right ankle and hooked me just like you would a fish. Took me right down to the bottom of the lake and my leg hooked, of course, in his teeth. There's no way to escape and he began to shake me violently. Imagine a dog shaking a rag, just shaking me like this.

Hippopotamuses are fiercely territorial. Despite being herbivores, they are known for their aggression and are the deadliest large land mammal on Earth. Males can weigh over four tons, and their spear-sharp teeth grow up to 20 inches long. Finding oneself in hippo territory can be extremely dangerous, as Jonathan Ritchie is currently discovering. For the first few heart-stopping seconds of his descent to the bottom of Lake Koso, John doesn't fight back. Against a creature this ferocious, the outcome seems inevitable. At that moment, people ask, were you afraid?

Were you scared? And I can't say I was. At that point, it was like, I'm dead. You know, there's nothing you can do about this. I thought, you know, this is it, you know, what can you do? And I just basically went limp, which probably kept me from breaking a bone or something of that nature, or causing more injury or damage." But then, in a matter of seconds, something shifts inside of him. Fueled by this sudden spark, Jon starts wriggling and writhing in a desperate attempt to free himself.

But his right leg is clamped firmly inside the jaws of the beast, as its immense strength and weight sinks him to the lake's floor. His lungs are empty. Escape appears impossible. But still, the 21-year-old fights. As his battered body hits the muddy sand, he tries his best to ignore the paralyzing pain of his punctured right leg, kicking the hippo with every ounce of energy he has left. Unbelievably, he frees himself. I can remember feeling the leathery head of this hippo under my feet as I pushed off.

I was running out of air as I pushed off from his head and headed for the surface. I needed air desperately. for the surface. I needed air desperately. Finally, John's head breaks the surface of the lake and he gulps in lungfuls of fresh air. With murky water still blurring his vision, his stinging eyes can just make out the familiar figures of his dad and uncle. Ray treads water a few hundred feet away, clinging onto the overturned boat for dear life. Meanwhile, Clyde is hanging off a nearby tree. John takes a second gulp of air and prepares to swim towards his dad. But just as he takes his first stroke through the water, the hippo returns.

I was violently pulled under the water. This time the hip would come up and literally my waist, my lower waist was in its mouth. He pulled me back down to the bottom of that lake and again was just violently shaking. The underwater battle recommences. Below a half of John's body is jammed within the creature's mouth. Every movement threatens to rip his limbs apart. He has to resist the overpowering impulse to open his mouth and breathe in water. I remember wiggling finally managing to wiggle out of its mouth. And at this point, I had presence of mind enough not to head back to the surface right

away, but to swim underwater a not to head back to the surface right away, but to swim underwater a short distance before coming to the surface. It worked too well for me the first time to head straight for the surface. This time, when John emerges, he finds himself just ten yards away from his dad, who is still clinging to a little tree in the lake. Relative safety lies in the near distance, but the hippo is still hot on his heels. When my dad saw me coming to the surface, he said, John, swim for me. First of all, he asked, are you injured? Of course I knew I was injured, but at that point I didn't feel any pain.

It's like when you cut your finger with a knife, you know, immediately you don't feel pain. It's later that it begins to throb. That was what was happening with me. I knew I was injured. I had to have been injured terribly. So I said, yes, I am. He said swim for me. And amazingly, I was able to do so with the injuries that I had. John stretches one arm in front of the other and pulls himself through the water. He tries to kick, but his right leg is lame. He keeps his head up, his eyes focused on his dad.

By now, the hippo has risen back to the surface and has him in its sights again. John's bloody hands claw at the waves as his feet kick up torrents of white water. All the while, Clyde is shouting to his son, encouraging him that it's just a few more strokes, a handful more seconds. Now, with John within touching distance, Clyde extends his arm and pulls him from the water, scraping his son's chest along the splintered bark of the tree. He winces as his wet skin is slashed open, but his dad catches him, holding him firmly

on the branch a few feet above the lake. Tangled in a hasty embrace, the pair turn to face the water, trembling in trepidation. There, on the surface, the hippo moves closer. Go on video, you'll see pictures of hippopotamuses chasing boats with their mouths open. They lunge out of the water and then they go under the water and then they lunge again. This is what that hippo was doing. The head of the hippopotamus was blood red. When the hippopotamus becomes very angry and raged, they excrete this substance through the pores of their skin much like blood and

it's kind of an indicator that watch out, I'm mad, stay away. At that point we were sure that we were going to die together. I mean, where can you go? There was no safety zone. The only thing we had was God, you know, and I remember my dad, my dad was just praying out loud, God send that hippo away. What more can you do in a situation like that? As Clyde's prayers ring through the air, the hippo closes in on the father and son. It's 15 feet away. Then 10, 5.

It plunges its enormous red head back beneath the surface. Nothing happened. When the hippo surfaced, it was about 30 yards away looking at us and disappeared under the water. When he surfaced again, it was even further away. It was kind of looking back and then going away. It was like, why? Hippos don't typically do that. They typically kill their victims.

The hippo's retreat is an unbelievable turn of events. But there it is. The creature swims further away, bobbing across the lake until it's little more than a tiny reddish-brown dot. With the coast seemingly clear, Ray begins to head towards John and Clyde, dragging the upturned boat with him. As his uncle approaches the base of the tree, John takes advantage of the momentary calm to assess his injuries. I can remember seeing a huge gash right above my right ankle where just flesh and bone were exposed,

where his tooth went all the way through. But it wasn't bleeding. I thought, OK, there's no blood, you know, it's just flesh and bone were exposed, whereas tooth went all the way through. But it wasn't bleeding. I thought, okay, there's no blood, you know, it's just flesh and bone. But then suddenly I began to lose strength. It turned out that when the hippo pulled me under the second time, his tooth, one of his teeth, actually went almost all the way through my upper right thigh, severing an artery. And blood was just gushing out of that artery where the tooth had gone in. At that point, all of a sudden, because of the large amount of blood that was leaving my body, I actually went blind.

I went blind. I couldn't see anything. My dad said, hold on, John, hold on. You got to help me out here. I couldn't have lifted a finger to help myself. It was just, I went limp as a noodle. I couldn't do a thing. Thinking on his feet, Clyde rips off the bandana

he's wearing across his forehead, scrunches it into a ball and jams it into John's right leg. But the wound is too deep. Thick, crimson blood continues to gush out. Clyde takes a second bandana from his pocket and wraps it tightly around his son's leg, forming a tourniquet. It's something. The waterfall of blood is reduced to a trickle, and Jeanne's translucent skin regains a vague

pink hue. Gradually, his eyesight and some of his strength return and he's able to stand up gingerly. Leaning on his dad for support, John delicately clambers down from the tree towards Uncle Ray and the overturned boat. The plan is to balance John on top of the craft, keeping his open wounds out of the water, then the men will swim and wade to the shore. Once he's in position, Ray and Clyde take their places either side of the boat and start trying to push it forwards. But the current of the lake is strong.

It's an immense effort to drag the boat with the added weight of John. We would stop for a while, day and maybe you know find one of these little trees or logs and hold on for a while rest and then keep swimming until finally they got to where they could touch ground and they pulled me up on the bank. Finally after struggling through the murky waters they reach the edge of the lake. With dry ground beneath their feet and warm, rejuvenating rays from the late afternoon sun above, it's easy to believe the worst is behind them. But that's far from being the case.

The grassy bank they've landed on is what's known as a hippowash, an area where the animals come to feed every evening after spending a long day in the water. It's now somewhere between 3 and 4 p.m. and the sun is already dropping in the sky. There is likely only a handful of hours left before the creatures start to arrive. But John is exhausted, his condition worsening by the minute. They cannot move him again. And so they have no choice but to set up camp on the hippowash. For a variety of reasons, time is not on their side.

And with the temperature starting to drop, Clyde turns to his son, places a hand on his shoulder and tells him his daring plan. How can you get even more of everything you love about Porter with the new BMO VI Porter MasterCard. Enjoy more freedom, more flexibility, more rewards, more of all the things you love. Need I say more? Get your ticket to more with the new BMO VI Porter MasterCard and get up to $2,400 in value in your first 13 months.

Terms and conditions apply. Visit BMmo.com slash VI Porter to learn more. This episode is brought to you by Dazon. For the first time ever, the 32 best soccer clubs from across the world are coming together to decide who the undisputed champions of the world are in the FIFA Club World Cup. The world's best players, Messi, Holland, Kane, and more are all taking part. And you can watch every match for free on Dazon, starting on June 14th and running until July 13th. Sign up now at dazon.com slash FIFA. That's D-A-Z-N dot com slash FIFA. My dad had served in this area for many years and I believed he knew where there would be a village about seven or so kilometers away.

But he would have to go there to get help because between the two of them, they knew that they couldn't transport me out of there. So my dad went. Moments later, Clyde is ready to go. John lies on the ground, Uncle Ray doing what he can to make him comfortable. Clyde says a hasty goodbye to his boy, promising to be back soon with some form of help. And he jogs off into the dusky foliage, hurdling roots and rocks and splashing through puddles. He tears along the banks of Lake Kosu, traveling deeper into the undergrowth, winding through narrow pockets of forest. Finally, he reaches a mango tree.

Its knobbly trunk sits in the center of his path. But just beyond, Clyde spots something. A woodchip trail. It appears well-worn, with grooves where others have trodden. Surely the trail will lead to a village. And so he hit that trail running and started going as fast as he could towards this village. And finally came to the outskirts of this village, met some farmers there who were working in their fields and managed to eventually tell them what had happened and they said, oh, we'll get you help. Imploringly, Clyde makes himself understood to the farmers.

Once they gather the gravity of the situation, they make a plan. There are two teachers in the village who own a pair of small mopeds. They suggest that Clyde rides one of the vehicles and leads a group back to the riverbank. Time is of the essence. As soon as the mopeds are located, they hop on board. Clyde leads the way, the dim headlamp and low purr of his vehicle breaking through the still night. But after just a few minutes, as they descend into the brush, the plan starts to come unstuck. Back down this little trail they went, you know, trying to find where he actually had come out

from the woods. Unfortunately, Dad had not marked where he had come out. And they looked and looked and looked and finally they went down to the water's edge thinking, well, we walk along the bank, we'll eventually come to. But there were a lot of these little finger inlets, you know, and they would go up and down, up and down, and it didn't seem to be getting any closer, and it was getting later and later and darker. And so they knew that they had to go back and try to find help in another way.

It's now well into the evening, and darkness coats every inch of the wild landscape. Clyde speeds back through the undergrowth. Then, as his moped approaches the village again, the dirt path is illuminated by the bright headlights of a car. It's a taxi, a potentially massive help, but Clyde has no cash on him. Then, a huge stroke of luck. He approached this guy as he was discharging his passengers.

And the guy looked at my dad and recognized him, because my dad has served many years in this small town. And they said, oh, Pastor Richie, what are you doing here? And so he agreed then to take my dad back to Chebysu right away. It's their best shot at securing John Help. Clyde and the cabbie set off. It's several miles of tricky driving along loose rocks and across stony paths, back and forth

around endless hairpin corners. It's a slow, frustrating journey. Finally, the taxi grinds to a halt in Chibiso, and Clyde leaps out. Knowing the local people well, he's quick to raise the alarm and gather a search party. Everyone bursts into action, but by now a huge amount of time has been lost and nobody knows if it's already too late.

Meanwhile, almost 40 kilometers away from the gathering search party. John remains on the grassy banks by legkosu. Propped up by Ray, his bare and bloody legs wrapped in bandanas, he's still alive, but only just. My uncle Ray tried his best he could during that time while my dad was gone to try to keep me warm, tried to keep the bugs and things out of my wounds. And he regaled me with stories, you know, survival stories that he knew. I remember even hearing the story for the first time about that frontiersman in the US who was mauled by a bear, survived under incredible circumstances, made a movie out of it, of course. And so he did his best to try to keep me awake. I don't dare go to sleep. I just couldn't because I might not wake up.

While Rey is doing his best, increasingly it feels like a losing battle. The men are hardly dressed for a cold night in the wilderness, and with all the blood Jon has lost from his leg, his core temperature is quickly falling. Blood John has lost from his leg, his core temperature is quickly falling. Flies and insects have formed a strange halo around the young man as they feast on his various wounds. To add to the horror, the quiet of the night is continually disturbed by sounds coming from the shallows of the lake. We heard splashes, you know, always along the bank.

Could have been fish, could have been hippos. And this is literally where hippos would come up and feed on the grass there by the lake at night. And so, you know, it was like, are we going to are we going to have another hippo encounter? The hours crawled by. John clings on. We were wondering, you know, aloud, why my dad had not returned.

Why so long? This is about five hours that transpired at this point. And so could he have been bit by a poisonous snake, a green mamba, which were very prominent in this area? Had he died along the way? My dad was in his 50s, all the exertion. Did he have a heart attack? What was preventing him from coming back and helping us?

And then, as midnight approaches, something pierces the cacophony of wild noise, a new, unusual sound. Ray and John stare at each other, listening intently. Then it reverberates through the night once more. Finally we heard my dad yelling to hear my dad's voice. Moments later, Clyde bursts through the dense flora. He's followed closely by the search party he'd assembled. The rescuers tumble out one by one, the beams from their flashlights spilling over the dark grass.

Ray shouts at the top of his lungs, guiding them to where he and John are waiting. As the group pads across the hippowash, another shout comes from the lake. A second search party has arrived. This one gathered in a fishing boat. They're floating towards them now. Clyde is the first to reach his son and hastily swaddles him in blankets, wrapping them around as tightly as possible to raise John's body temperature. Then the others pick him up and carry him across the plains to the fishing boat. When he put that blanket around me, I finally released the tension that was in my body and I just began to shake. I couldn't control myself. I was just shaking incredibly. I had done everything I could to survive up to that point. Every time I moved, it was so painful. Shortly after they

pulled me up on the bank, it wasn't long before that numbness wore off, the shock wore off, and I began to, every time I moved, the pain was unbearable. It was incredible. Racing against the clock, they speed back across the murky lake before loading John into a waiting car. The second the key is in the ignition, they accelerate into the blackness, driving north back towards Boisquet. Whether it's a family member, friend or furry companion joining your summer road trip, enjoy the peace of mind that comes with Volvo's legendary safety. During Volvo Discover Days, enjoy limited time savings as you make plans to cruise through Muscogee or down Toronto's bustling streets. From now until June 30th,

lease a 2025 Volvo XC60 from 1.74% and save up to $4,000. Condition supply. Visit your GTA Volvo retailer or go to volvocars.ca for full details. Back in the city, John received some initial treatment and pain relief. But soon after the decision is made to take him on to another medical center around an hour away, closer to the desert. Took me on up to a small mission hospital up on the edge of the desert. And they did that because they knew if they went to any local hospital, they would just simply, you know, look at my leg and just cut it off. And at this small mission hospital, they had great doctors and this was probably the best option for me.

It's been 12 hours since the hippo attack. John is pale from blood loss, his wounds are itching with infection, and he hasn't eaten or drunk a thing since well before the attack. Finally, just after 3am, he arrives at the Mission Hospital. The staff immediately whisk him downstairs to the operating theater, where he stays for the next four hours. The doctors were not sure whether they could even save my life at that point. They thought for sure they were, they were going to have to take my right leg. There was a lot of muscle destroyed. You know, when that tooth went through my upper thigh, also another tooth had gone in my left hip. It was a hole about

three inches in diameter where a tooth had just gone in, stopped at the bone. It was like my whole waist had been somehow in his mouth. There was so much damage that had been done. His right leg has been mutilated to such an extent that the doctors initially don't believe they can save it. to such an extent that the doctors initially don't believe they can save it. And yet, incredibly, when John's wheeled out of surgery hours later, he still has both of his legs. Though it seems like a miracle, it has a surprising, albeit somewhat gruesome, scientific explanation. When I was laying there by the lake, blowflies were coming in and out. My wounds were filled with maggots, which was a good thing, of course,

because they feed on infection, and so it helped to keep the wounds clean. I knew from other studies and such that tribes would do this purposely if they had a wound, that they would allow the blowflies to lay eggs, and the maggots would eat the infection to keep the wounds clean. And so that was a good thing. For the next few weeks, John is bedbound in hospital, resigned to watching the bright summer sun from his bedroom window, as it rises and falls over West Africa's plains. Slowly, aided by regular blood transfusions and painful skin grafts, he begins to rebuild his strength. But his doctors set expectations low, warning him that he'll never be able to walk without a limp

or be as active as he once was. Their pessimism irritates John. I had been in pretty good shape and I thought, you know, I'm going to do my best to try to get back on the soccer field, defy the odds. So I began doing everything I could to start building up muscle to compensate for muscle that had been destroyed and started, you know, just trying to run a little bit and just push through the pain. John's determination pays dividends and by the end of summer, he's back on his feet, running, jumping and kicking a football. In fact, when he boards the plane to leave his parents and head back to the States after his summer break,

the only visible remnants of the hippo attack are the purple scars that snake around his legs. attack are the purple scars that snake around his legs. But the emotional impact leaves a lasting impression. The years pass, he takes his final college exams, marries, has a family of his own. But the experience he went through in the Ivory Coast continues to shape him. I believe that my life was spared for a purpose. And up to that point, I'll be honest with you, I was just kind of floundering. I had no idea what I could do with my life.

I had no idea what skillset I had. I had no idea what I wanted to do. I determined that, you know, God was going to be the controlling factor of my life. And I relinquished that to him and said, okay, open the doors for me. I'll step through them and you guide me. You lead me. And that transformed me completely. I'm no longer stressed out by the things that stress me. I'm no longer in control of the things that I can't control. I no longer fear death.

Next time on Real Survival Stories, we meet Josh Burns. In October 2022, Josh sets off on a solo hunting expedition into the Blue Mountains of Oregon. Josh sets off on a solo hunting expedition into the Blue Mountains of Oregon. But when a freak accident flips the script, the hunter is turned into potential prey. Alone in the domain of bears, wolves, and mountain lions, Josh will have to find a way to rescue himself. As he struggles to move, struggles to stay conscious, struggles to take a single breath. Breathing is a subconscious activity. You don't have to think about it most of the time.

But even thinking about it, I couldn't make myself inhale. I could not breathe. That's next time. Listen to Josh's story today without waiting a week by joining Noiza Plus. Click the subscription banner at the top of the feed to get started.