I looked down into the water at the maze of mangrove roots. Schools of fish darted through them as our boat passed by.
“Oh, wow, look at that!” Feye yelled, and the boat came to a standstill as the captain killed the engine. It was quiet enough that you could hear the crickets and nighttime bugs coming out to sing their hellos. We all followed Feye’s pointed finger up to the canopy of a mangrove tree that had some rustling leaves.
Suddenly, a large creature appeared on a branch. It looked like a cross between a rat and a capybara. It clutched mangrove leaves in its paw as it stared at us and stopped its munching. We stayed quiet, not wanting to spook it. It tore its eyes away from us to continue feasting.
“What is that?” Feye asked to no one in particular.
By this time, the other boat had caught up to us and one of their boat crew members spoke up. “It’s a hutia! It’s either a Desmarest’s hutia or a prehensile-tailed hutia. Both are pretty common here in the Caribbean.”
“Why would they nest up there? Wouldn’t they fall?” I asked.
“No, it is too dangerous here for them to burrow underground. Not only do they get hunted by boas and crocodiles, but humans, too,” the crew member said.
“You eat them?” Feye said. He looked back at the hutia, which was now making its way noisily through the canopy and out of our sight.
“Yup, in a large pot with some wild nuts and honey. They are really delicious.”
It reminded me of how in Ecuador we went to a family friend’s farm and they gave us guinea pig to eat. I tried it, so our parents wouldn’t say I was being rude, but it was not my favorite meal. I couldn’t look any guinea pigs in the eye for a good few months after!
“It’s gone now. We need to get going to find this channel before the sun goes down,” Mom said. The boat came to life once more as the captain thrust us forward. The sky was now being kissed with shades of orange and red.
I was paying such close attention to the bulging mangrove treetops to look for more hutias that it was easy to spot when there were a few trees missing. Their absence made a clear divot in the otherwise-plump tree line.
“There!” I screamed over the roar of the boat engine as we came across a very narrow opening—the secret channel!
“Good spotting, Adrianna!” Feye celebrated, giving me a high five. As the boats made their way carefully up the hidden passageway, our parents motioned to turn the boat engines off so as not to scare any of the animals away.
Our family split up, so we were on both sides of the boat, looking for signs of a crocodile on the muddy banks of the mangroves. I looked out for anything that looked like a floating log in the water, or slide marks, drag marks, and flattened vegetation that crocodiles leave behind when they have been on the banks recently.
After twenty minutes of looking, I heard Dad sigh and run a muddied hand through his hair. He was frustrated … we all were.
I knew that Dad was about to suggest we turn around and give up on this channel when I suddenly saw his eyes brighten. He took a few steps forward and frantically began pointing at some slide tracks—they were of a crocodile! And they looked fresh! The captains of each boat slowly got closer until a hissing noise stopped everyone in their tracks.
“Everyone quiet! Do you hear that?” Mr. Savage asked from the film production boat behind us. “Sound, make sure you capture that hissing.”
The sound people frantically checked their mics to make sure they were strong enough to pick it up. They nodded.
“All right, cameras, we’re about to get some action. I want one on the family and one on the croc. Let’s roll!” Mr. Savage directed. The camera crew hoisted their big cameras onto their shoulders.
Suddenly, it seemed like the air around us was devoid of life. Not even the bugs were chirping anymore. Only the soft hum of cameras, our breathing, and the lapping of the water against our boats could be heard. But finally, we heard that familiar sound again! I looked over at my brother and he nodded at me. We knew what that hissing meant. It took everything in me not to squeal out loud.
“Crocodiles sometimes make a hissing noise when they feel threatened, meaning we’re close,” Feye whispered to one of the cameras. Mark gave us a thumbs-up. Feye and I turned to each other and smiled.
“There! I see it!” Mom said. The camera’s attention quickly went from us to our parents. Piercing reptilian eyes looked at us, and suddenly, everyone was able to see the massive crocodile as it hauled itself out of the water a little bit more, water running down its scaly sides. Covered in mud, it blended in perfectly with the surrounding murky water until it opened its mouth to reveal its pale pink tongue and numerous dirty teeth, ready to snap at us if we came any closer. Its back leg was clearly mangled. This was the croc we had been looking for!
The yellow eyes met mine. Chills ran down my back.
“Are you okay?” Feye was suddenly at my side.
I looked up at him and nodded, reaching out for his hand, giving it a good squeeze. “Yeah. Thanks, Feye,” I whispered back. I wasn’t scared of the crocodile, really. More in awe of it.
“Julio, do you have the tranquilizer?” Mom asked, ignoring the cameras that were now trying to get the best angle to capture both our mother and the crocodile in the same shot.
“Give me one … second … almost … there … done! Locked and loaded, fire when ready, mi amor,” Dad said, handing the tranquilizing gun over. We took a step back—we knew our mother didn’t like us being near her when she fired the tranquilizer gun.
Thwap! She hit her mark, and the crocodile thrashed around in the shallow, muddy bank as the tranquilizer began to take effect. It tried to climb out of the muddy hole it was in, but with such a badly injured leg it wasn’t possible. “Are you getting this, Mark?” Mr. Savage asked, and Mark zoomed in on the crocodile in the hole. After a few minutes, it went still, and our parents rushed out of the boat to check on it. Some of the cameras followed, but Mark stayed behind to film the action that would soon take place on the boat. Now that we had found the injured croc, we’d be taking it back with us to assess its injuries.
“It’s down! All right, Adrianna, get the boat ready. Feye, hand me the duct tape,” Dad said.
As Feye jumped down to hand them the tape, Mark filmed me as I cleared the back of the boat and began to lay down large towels. Although most of a crocodile’s skin is thick, similar to armor, and covered with rugged scales called osteoderms that provide protection for them on top, they have smooth skin on their bellies and sides, which makes those areas more vulnerable. The team would be moving the large crocodile onto a stretcher to provide some extra padding underneath, and then bringing it over to the boat. I wanted to make sure this beautiful predator didn’t get hurt any further as we tried to take care of it.
As I cleared the boat of anything sharp, our parents duct-taped the mouth of the crocodile shut. They were careful to make sure they didn’t cover the nostrils so it could still breathe. Feye brought out his measuring tape from his pocket. Mom held one end of the measuring tape by the snout, and Feye made his way down to the tail.
Feye let out a whistle. “Wow, a big one! Thirteen feet!”
The high end of length for American crocodiles was usually fifteen feet, so this was a really big one! I gently hopped off the boat and went to pick up the croc stretcher so I could bring it over to my family. I had pure adrenaline pumping through my veins now.
“Adrianna, are you sure you can handle the stretcher by yourself?” Mr. Savage asked from the boat. He had momentarily stopped giving directions to the sound and camera crew to look at me.
I nodded. “I’m good.” I wanted to prove I could do this.
“All right, kiddo. Just be careful,” Mr. Savage said. He turned his attention back to his clipboard, which had notes about how he wanted the scene to be captured. I picked up the stretcher and let the back part drag behind me as I walked toward my family.
“We’ll do more data collection and analysis once we’ve got
the croc on the boat. Right now, we’ve got to get it out of here and clean that wound with water and antiseptics,” Mom said into the camera.
I handed the stretcher over to my dad. Together he, Mom, and a few of the crew members wiggled it under the massive predator while others rocked the crocodile back and forth to make room for the stretcher.
Feye made his way back to the boat, and I saw Mark zoom in on him as he dialed the Wildlife Hospital back at Sacred Sanctuary and Zoological Park on our satellite phone. “Hey! Martha, can you hear me? It’s Feye. We’ve got a thirteen-foot American crocodile with a badly injured hind leg. We’ll be there in about …” He looked over to Mr. Savage to get a time.
“Tell them forty-eight hours, kid!” Mr. Savage replied as he directed cameras to capture a variety of shots.
I had been so preoccupied bringing the stretcher to my family and watching my brother going back to the boat that I hadn’t realized Mr. Savage had gotten off the production boat. Most likely to see what the cameras were capturing and to give them more directions of angles he wanted. I watched him as he stood by the hole that the crocodile was in.
As our parents and the crew members stumbled up out of the hole with the crocodile stretcher and then across the muddy terrain of the mangroves back to the boat, Mr. Savage poked at a muddy lump with the toe of his boot. An expression of surprise crossed his face, and he quickly smoothed the mud back over with his boot.
That’s weird … I thought. Why is he playing around in the mud?
But there were soon more exciting things happening. I turned my attention to my parents loading the injured crocodile onto our boat. I turned back to look at Mr. Savage, who was now moving toward us, asking the cameras to focus on certain parts of the crocodile, like its closed eyes.
It was then that I noticed a bright yellow field notebook at the base of the tree where Mr. Savage had been standing. I was about to say something when our dad came over and gave me and Feye a big hug.
“Good job, mijos.” Dad then looked at the camera and said, “Now, time to get out of here and get back home to save this croc.”
“Hold up,” Mark said before our engines started. He was looking down at his tablet where drone footage was displayed. “I can see another croc moving just north of here, and it looks massive!” Everyone stilled for a second.
Then Mr. Savage’s voice boomed behind us as he stormed down the bank.
“New plan, everyone. Connor, I want you and a couple of the crew to take the boat with our injured croc and make sure it makes it back to home base in good condition. The Villalobos, cameras, and safety divers come with us. We’re finally going to capture this Mega Croc on tape!”
My mom looked uneasy. “Rick, we should make sure the kids and this croc get back safely. Plus, the sun has set. They’ve only dived at night a handful of times.”
“This may be THE shot, so I think it’s crucial the entire family gets in on this. We’ll make sure everyone stays safe. I promise.”
I looked over at Mom and Dad hopefully.
My mom sighed and looked at Dad. “I don’t really like this, Julio …”
Dad ran his hands through his hair. “This could be a really pivotal shot. And I think the kids can handle it. They’ve more than proved that they can take this seriously and follow directions.” He smiled warmly at me.
Mom turned back to me. “You are still grounded, señorita, even though you have been quite responsible lately and we are proud of you for that. If Mr. Savage insists you’re in the shot, then it’s your lucky day,” she said.
* * *
I was nervous. Not to be around the crocodile necessarily. I knew from my research that the American crocodile wasn’t as aggressive as other types, but I didn’t exactly love night diving. Speeding toward the area with this new crocodile, Mr. Savage turned to some of the boat crew, including the safety divers. “You’re in there only a few minutes, max, because it is dark. Are we ready?” The safety divers nodded.
“Let’s film what may be the highlight of this episode!” Mr. Savage said as he clapped his hands.
Mark confirmed when we’d reached the spot he’d seen an American crocodile on the drone footage. As the boat slowed to a stop, some of the camera people began descending into the water. After a few minutes, one yelled out, “We see it!”
Mr. Savage clapped his hands again. “I want one safety diver for each family member. Let’s get you all in the water.”
We all kissed one another’s cheeks and one by one got ready and then slipped under the water.
Outside of the spotlights the camera crew had set up, the water was completely dark. I felt as though I’d just dove into outer space.
The safety diver assigned to me tapped my shoulder, checking in with me. I gave him the “okay” sign, a bit nervous. A few seconds later he pointed behind me and turned me around.
It was then that I saw the American crocodile. Easily ten feet long, it looked like a prehistoric dinosaur slowly swimming toward our family. It was big, but not “mega.”
The underwater cameras and lights immediately lit up the crocodile’s face. I saw my parents talking into cameras and pointing out the crocodile.
Both Feye and I stayed back, observing. After a few more minutes, the crocodile left the hectic scene in the lights and was swallowed by the inky darkness.
I suddenly heard a crackling sound in my ears. The sound of my parents’ voices abruptly cut out. Uh-oh. I swam toward the lights and pointed at my ears, signaling to my safety diver that there was a problem. I watched his blurry figure swim away, letting someone else know.
After a minute he returned, giving me a thumbs-up and then the “dive over” signal with his hands to say the dive was over. I gave him the “okay” sign, ready to warm up with some hot cocoa back at the boat hotel. As he swam in front of me, I stayed down for a few extra seconds so his fins wouldn’t hit me in the face.
The camera crew disappeared above me in slow motion. With the warm thought of marshmallows in my head, I kicked my legs toward the surface. Night diving was always fascinating, but I much preferred sunlit dives in broad daylight!
But my thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sudden sharp pain in my left leg. What was that? I looked down, trying to see if my suit had gotten caught on a gnarled mangrove root, but all I could see was inky darkness.
I kicked my leg to try to free it from whatever had snagged it—but another jolt of pain shot throughout my body. My stomach dropped. This was no tree root. Before I knew it, I was being pulled away from the surface and into the depths of the muddy seafloor below.
I clawed at the sand, stirring up clouds of grainy dust that made it impossible to see. Desperately, I tried to see if I could grab on to a rock or something to keep from being dragged too far away.
Because it was clear now: I was being dragged by a massive American crocodile who had half my leg clamped firmly in its jaws. I took a quick glance back and tried not to cry as I realized how much trouble I was in. Whatever you do, A, don’t move that leg! screamed my inner voice as my fingers raked through the mangroves’ silty bottom.
I’d grown up surrounded by wild animals. I knew what often happened in these scenarios: a person did not survive. I had never heard of someone being bitten while scuba diving, so this was new territory for me.
Play dead, A. Don’t let it think of you as food, my inner voice returned, a little quieter. If I moved too much, the predator could bite down harder, making this an extremely painful situation to be in. Or worse, it could launch into one of the infamous crocodile death rolls.
My mind went back to the one time I had seen a crocodile at the zoo do a death roll. The large male tensed up like a sprinter before a race. Then it exploded into action, using its hind legs to roll over and over again until the animal in its teeth was long dead.
If the croc holding on to me now did either of those things, I would surely lose my leg … or my life.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a
split second to think. I remembered what Dad had told Feye when his hand had gotten stuck to the crocodile tag. “Keep breathing. It’s important to stay calm.”
I opened my eyes again. I was a little calmer now. I stopped raking my hands through the silty soil. I remembered now that mangroves usually didn’t have big rocks lying around in the sand. What I needed to do was try to call for help. The fancy scuba diving mask I was wearing had a microphone. Even though it had been acting up before and I couldn’t hear anyone else … maybe they could still hear me. I jammed my finger on the microphone button and hoped for the best.
“Guys, the crocodile has got me! I’m being dragged!”
There was no response other than static. But hopefully my message had gone through. I turned my attention back to controlling my breathing.
Don’t freak out, Adrianna. The croc is just curious. Right? Breathe. You just got a new tank of oxygen before starting this dive, and if you keep calm and breathe like normal, you’ll have plenty of air. Breathe.
Just as I began to rack my brain to think of what else I could do, I suddenly felt the pressure on my leg release. The crocodile had let go of my leg!
I didn’t hesitate. I filled my scuba diving vest up with air and shot to the water’s surface. I flew up quickly, as if I were strapped to a rocket, not caring about doing the safety stop I would have taken normally to help my body adjust to the pressure. No way was I staying in the water for five more minutes!
Surfacing above the water, I felt a surge of relief. But I had no idea of the level of panic and confusion that was waiting for me above the waves.
“Mom! It’s Adrianna! She’s over there!” I heard Feye yell as I desperately tried to get the full-face mask off.
Crocodile Rescue! Page 6