Alligator Sagas #2 and #3

Alligator Saga #2

After that eye-opening occasion at the little sinkhole lake at the U of F, I started paying much more attention to alligators. Then I heard that the world-famous biologist and reptile expert, Archie Carr, a distinguished professor at the University, was lecturing one evening about reptiles and amphibians native to Florida. I made a point of attending and was absolutely fascinated by his stories about the gators and great sea turtles that he so clearly loved. That event marked my life-long fondness for Carr and the landmark work he did as a biologist.

Not many weeks after listening to Carr, I took my son, David, who was then a year and a half old, for a walk along Lake Alice, a beautiful 300-acre lake at the edge of campus. David had started walking at six months and by that time had three or four speeds, one faster than the other. He was an energetic little boy, determined to explore his surroundings. We traipsed together along a path beside an elongated slough. The path was nicely landscaped, with an attractive wood bridge over one of the small creeks feeding the lake. Hand-in-hand we crossed the bridge, with me paying far more attention to the bridge’s architectural detailing than to my excited son.

We were walking along the edge of the slough about fifty feet from the bridge when, for some unknown reason, I happened to glance over my shoulder. Not more than ten or twelve feet behind us, its head barely sticking out of the water, was a very large gator, with only its enormous head, nostrils, and eyes visible. Instantly, I realized it was stalking David, who at the moment was eagerly trying to pull his hand out of mine. So he could run around foot-loose and fancy-free along the water’s edge.

My heart leaped in my chest as I remembered how fast that small gator had moved when it attacked the duck. I immediately grabbed my son, swung him up on my shoulders, turned, and yelled loudly at the gator, hoping to frighten it. To my immense relief, it instantly ducked out of sight under water.

It didn’t take me another second to hurry in the opposite direction, heading for safety. The situation frightened me to the core. You never, never want to think of your child as the prey of a large animal. Never again did I allow him to walk around any area where gators were found. Never.

Alligator Saga #3

Toward the end of my first year at the University, an extremely attractive coed friend who was in my Spanish class volunteered to take care of her roommate’s Lhasa Apso for the weekend. Right after lunch Maria took the cute little puppy down to the beach on a mid-sized lake that was behind the Hume Dorm complex. The dog dozed at her feet while she exposed her gorgeous body to the sun’s rays and the lustful stares of every guy within a hundred yards. I mean, that gal was HOT.

At some point the puppy got up and wandered closer to the shore. To my friend’s horror, a huge greenish-black reptilian nightmare from Hell emerged slowly from the water and walked with nonchalant arrogance toward the little dog. The poor puppy was either too inexperienced or too startled to move. With a lightening quick lunge the gator seized the disconcerted little fellow in its jaws, turned, and walked deliberately back into the lake. As if it knew none of those puny humans could deny it its rightful hors d’oeuvre. Over a dozen people nearby began shouting and throwing anything at hand at the enormous reptile. But the hungry gator simply ignored them. It and the puppy disappeared into the dark water.

Two days later the University posted signs all along the lake, prohibiting students from bringing animals to the beach. When Maria told me that story my blood turned cold. All I could think of was that my son, David, was as big as a medium-sized dog. To a gator he was just a potential meal. I never again took him to Lake Alice and let him walk around. Never. I always carried him on my shoulders. Since then, every time I see an alligator in the “wild” that memory returns and my heart beats faster. As I think what might have happened had I not turned and spotted the gator in the water. Very scary stuff indeed.

Alligators are ordinarily wary of humans unless they have become acclimated through regular and habitual contact. Then they can be very dangerous indeed. Some Readers may remember the horrific story in 1996 when a young mother was picnicking at a Florida lake with her children when her three-year-old boy was seized by a gator, pulled under the water and then swallowed whole. Or the 10-year old girl who was attacked in 2002 by an 11-foot alligator while she was rafting on the Withlacoochee River in Sumter County. The reptile chomped on her leg and attempted to pull her under. She was saved when her father courageously attacked the gator, poking it repeatedly in the eye. Or the nine-and-a-half foot alligator that in 2001 pulled a 43-year old woman swimmer under the water of Lake Como in Pasco County before she knew what was going on. She was saved when her husband kicked the alligator repeatedly as he pulled his wife ashore. She suffered serious injuries to her leg and arm but lived.

In February 2003, a 70-year-old woman from Englewood, Florida, was attacked by an eight-foot alligator as she trimmed brush outside her condo. The gator bit the woman’s arm just below the elbow and tried to drag her into a nearby pond. She was rescued by a neighbor who heard her screams and grabbed on to her legs and refused to let go. The gator severed the woman’s arm and disappeared into the pond. Where it was found the next day, killed, and the forearm recovered from its stomach. On July 21, 2004, Janie Melsek, a 54-year-old landscape worker was trimming a tree near a pond in Sanibel off Poinciana Circle at about 12:40 p.m. when a 12-foot-long alligator lunged from the underbrush where it had been hiding, bit her arm, and tried to drag her into the pond. Three men saw the attack and struggled with the alligator until police arrived on the scene a few minutes later and shot and killed the animal. Lastly, In May 2006, Yovy Suarez Jimenez, a 28-year-old woman from the town of Davie in Broward County, was killed by a nine and a half foot alligator in Sunrise, Florida. The attack happened at a canal near Markham Park. The victim, who had been seen in the area jogging, was stalked and killed by the alligator, then dragged into the water. Jimenez was last seen sitting on the bridge over State Road 84, dangling her feet over the canal. Her armless body was recovered later that day near the bridge. Two days later a large alligator at the scene was caught and killed. A necroscopy found two human arms in the gator’s stomach. Tests determined they belonged to the victim.

It’s easy for us to say those events are isolated. After all, it wasn’t our child who died or our friend who was attacked and dismembered. The truth is attacks like those are relatively rare. But the potential for dangerous contacts between humans and alligators is increasing as people settle in habitats where alligators are common. Or as gators move into areas where people are common, such as golf courses or subdivision lakes. Gators are opportunistic carnivores. Almost anything that looks the slightest bit edible is their meat and potatoes. And that includes snakes, fish, turtles, otter, wading birds, raccoons, deer, dogs, cats. Even children unaccompanied by adults. And, occasionally, adults, if the situation is right.

If you have small children and find yourself anywhere near alligators, be constantly alert to danger. Especially if you’re near an area where gators are fed on a fairly regular basis by idiots. They will inevitably associate people with food, creating an incredibly dangerous situation. My very strong and very serious advice is to avoid those areas, especially if you see people throwing raw hot dogs or pieces of chicken to gators at the edge of a lake or stream. That problem would be solved quickly if we threw all those brainless assholes to the gators. Check that. On second thought, despite its effectiveness in changing human behavior, that solution might not prove popular with the local constabulary.