The Crocodile Hunter: The Incredible Life and Adventures of Steve and Terri Irwin by Steve Irwin, Terri Irwin Page A
Authors: Steve Irwin, Terri Irwin
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of their social structure. The encroachment of civilization has been a detriment to our entire northern ecosystem’s stability and health.
A 9 ½ foot saltwater crocodile that Agro killed.
Capturing an adult saltwater crocodile for relocation.
The saltwater crocodile is the number one species in the food chain. It is the apex predator and wherever there remains a natural habitat and healthy croc numbers you’ll find wildlife “hot spots” of great biological diversity and flourishing populations of all species. Unfortunately there are few wilderness areas that support such healthy crocodile populations.
The problem we face—and one that our children’s children will continue to face—is the lack of harmonious coexistence between humans and large predators. Whether it’s a great white shark, a Bengal tiger, a grizzly bear, or a saltwater croc, if someone gets attacked it’s the animal that suffers. For example, in 1985 a middle-aged woman decided to go for a swim at night in known crocodile territory and was killed and consumed by a croc measuring over fourteen feet. The week after her death, over two hundred crocodiles, both large and small, were killed by vigilantes and locals seeking revenge.
It is this sort of slaughter and unwarranted hatred that has become my driving force. If I don’t capture problem crocs and alleviate the potential conflict, the entire ecosystem will corrode from the removal of the apex predator.
Scouting locations for setting traps can be tough work.
Once I’d reached my camp on a salt flat in the mangroves, I wasted no time loading up my dinghy with the black trap and gear. It was serene and tranquil motoring along the river looking for croc tracks and slides. Within an hour I’d located a couple of fresh slides in the deep mud where a croc of approximately twelve feet had dragged itself out of the water to sunbake earlier in the morning. Like all reptiles the crocodile is poikilothermal, or, as they are often misleadingly known, “cold-blooded.” Rather, reptiles utilize the temperature of the sun, air, and water to govern their body temperature. Their optimum temperature is approximately 30°C, or 86°F, and if they’re feeling a little cool they’ll climb up the muddy banks to sunbake in a patch of sun to warm up. This activity provides me with a positive identification of the croc’s mass, its territorial limits, and a general idea of its daily routine.
I located the silver duct tape Dad had stuck to a mangrove branch. He was dead right—this was the center of the croc’s territory and an ideal location to set the trap.
Restraining this 9 ½ foot saltwater crocodile (male) is no easy task.
The tide was low and on the rise. Nosing the boat into the grassy mud, I saw I’d have to carry the trapping gear twenty feet up to the mangroves to set up the trap. Always a little on edge, I had a cursory look around to make sure I wasn’t going to jump straight out of the boat into an ambush. Everything seemed settled and tranquil so I tossed out the trap, axe, shovel, bags, and ropes. They partially sank in the mud. As I lowered myself out of the boat I quickly sank up to my waist in the ooze that literally teems with small bugs and mud skippers. I felt more than usually vulnerable: I was close to the murky water’s edge and would have no hope of movement in the retarding mud if the croc had wanted me for lunch.
“Stay in the boat,” I ordered my best mate, Chilli. She was much safer there and I couldn’t afford to have her scurrying around attracting the attention of a hungry croc.
I was vulnerable enough. Crocs love to eat dogs; they must taste great.
I’ve learned the hard way to rely on my instincts, and while I trudged toward the mangroves my instincts were working overtime. It took me three lengthy, strenuous trips to carry the gear to the trap site. I was well aware of the commotion I was creating and my senses were telling me not to drop my
A 9 ½ foot saltwater crocodile that Agro killed.
Capturing an adult saltwater crocodile for relocation.
The saltwater crocodile is the number one species in the food chain. It is the apex predator and wherever there remains a natural habitat and healthy croc numbers you’ll find wildlife “hot spots” of great biological diversity and flourishing populations of all species. Unfortunately there are few wilderness areas that support such healthy crocodile populations.
The problem we face—and one that our children’s children will continue to face—is the lack of harmonious coexistence between humans and large predators. Whether it’s a great white shark, a Bengal tiger, a grizzly bear, or a saltwater croc, if someone gets attacked it’s the animal that suffers. For example, in 1985 a middle-aged woman decided to go for a swim at night in known crocodile territory and was killed and consumed by a croc measuring over fourteen feet. The week after her death, over two hundred crocodiles, both large and small, were killed by vigilantes and locals seeking revenge.
It is this sort of slaughter and unwarranted hatred that has become my driving force. If I don’t capture problem crocs and alleviate the potential conflict, the entire ecosystem will corrode from the removal of the apex predator.
Scouting locations for setting traps can be tough work.
Once I’d reached my camp on a salt flat in the mangroves, I wasted no time loading up my dinghy with the black trap and gear. It was serene and tranquil motoring along the river looking for croc tracks and slides. Within an hour I’d located a couple of fresh slides in the deep mud where a croc of approximately twelve feet had dragged itself out of the water to sunbake earlier in the morning. Like all reptiles the crocodile is poikilothermal, or, as they are often misleadingly known, “cold-blooded.” Rather, reptiles utilize the temperature of the sun, air, and water to govern their body temperature. Their optimum temperature is approximately 30°C, or 86°F, and if they’re feeling a little cool they’ll climb up the muddy banks to sunbake in a patch of sun to warm up. This activity provides me with a positive identification of the croc’s mass, its territorial limits, and a general idea of its daily routine.
I located the silver duct tape Dad had stuck to a mangrove branch. He was dead right—this was the center of the croc’s territory and an ideal location to set the trap.
Restraining this 9 ½ foot saltwater crocodile (male) is no easy task.
The tide was low and on the rise. Nosing the boat into the grassy mud, I saw I’d have to carry the trapping gear twenty feet up to the mangroves to set up the trap. Always a little on edge, I had a cursory look around to make sure I wasn’t going to jump straight out of the boat into an ambush. Everything seemed settled and tranquil so I tossed out the trap, axe, shovel, bags, and ropes. They partially sank in the mud. As I lowered myself out of the boat I quickly sank up to my waist in the ooze that literally teems with small bugs and mud skippers. I felt more than usually vulnerable: I was close to the murky water’s edge and would have no hope of movement in the retarding mud if the croc had wanted me for lunch.
“Stay in the boat,” I ordered my best mate, Chilli. She was much safer there and I couldn’t afford to have her scurrying around attracting the attention of a hungry croc.
I was vulnerable enough. Crocs love to eat dogs; they must taste great.
I’ve learned the hard way to rely on my instincts, and while I trudged toward the mangroves my instincts were working overtime. It took me three lengthy, strenuous trips to carry the gear to the trap site. I was well aware of the commotion I was creating and my senses were telling me not to drop my
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