You would think some things would not need saying, but you’d be wrong! An alligator, by definition, might not technically be an apex predator, but an adult alligator has so few who would dare attack it, that it would be splitting hairs to deny it the distinction. The words to live by here in Florida are, if there is water, there are gators, and the reason it’s against the law to feed alligators can be seen in the news a couple of times a year. I thought perhaps this would be one of those moments when I might regrettably be witness to the reason in action.
One evening last week we spent a fun night with our daughter, Mariah, and her family at a beautiful park in Ft. Myers. They had decorated a section of the park, which features several lakes, for Halloween, complete with a hay ride, games, and pumpkin patch, but the big attraction was a small-scale train that you ride on top of. It’s a 15 minute ride through a section of the park that was decorated in festive lights, scarecrows, tombstones, bats, and witches. You know, the usual Halloween elements.
While waiting for it to get dark enough to truly enjoy the magic of the lights, we sat at a table in the pavilion near the water, talking and watching the sunset. I was deep into telling a story when Mariah’s eyes got large! She stood up, pointed, and blurted, “Gator!” My back was to the water, but her words were spoken with such urgency that I felt sure he had snuck up directly behind me, preparing to make me a nice snack! I knew that wasn’t likely, but those words strike such fear in your body that your fight or flight instincts kick in. When alligators are involved, flight should win every time!
We were on a platform a few feet above the water, and protected from it with several slats of railing. What we weren’t protected from was the fool that was under the impression that the sign, clearly posted, reminding everyone that it is “illegal to feed or entice alligators”, did not in any way pertain to him. We had a front row seat, (actually we were standing by now, because it is not prudent to remain seated when a six-foot alligator is in your immediate vicinity), to what we thought was going to necessitate a 911 call.
This man was holding his arm out over the water, as if he had food in his hand, and Mr. Alligator had him locked in his sights. We stood near the railing to observe, but not next to this moron! The alligator was not interested in us. He had only one thing on his mind, and it was clear what it was. He wanted whatever that man was offering, even if it was only his hand. It was obvious this nitwit had not been the only nitwit to ignore that sign, as Mr. Alligator seemed to associate this pavilion and the people on it with a free meal.
Feeding alligators does not make them tame. It only makes them bolder and more dangerous! So while Mr. Chucklehead was holding his hand over the water, Mariah said in a loud enough voice, “He does know they can jump?!” Alligators can jump up to 6 feet out of the water from a complete state of rest! In this case, that would have been high enough. We now watched that gator do something I have never seen before. He dropped his tail in the water, so that his body was in a vertical position! We stepped back! Dusty, who is a paramedic said, “I’ll apply a tourniquet, but I’m not going in that water after his hand!” Mr. Chucklehead quickly decided perhaps enticing that alligator wasn’t the most brilliant idea he had that day, and withdrew his hand, moving back himself. I’m glad he did, because though people like that make that animal more dangerous than they already are, I really didn’t want to see him, stupid as he was, lose his hand in front of my granddaughter.
Finally dark enough, we boarded our miniature train for a fun ride around the park in the dark, with spooky ghosts and goblins. Mariah sat behind me adding, at least to my experience, a running commentary, announcing every access point where an alligator could possibly become a living addition to the decor, making this attraction a real life Halloween haunt!
