3 minute read
HOW TO GET ALONG WITH
Alligators live in peaceful plenitude on Jekyll Island‚ and wildlife experts keep a closer tab on them than you might imagine. Still‚ some generous distance is good for everyone.
BY CANDICE DYER
THE SCENE AT HORTON POND is eerily still. Even the insects are silent. Night herons roost like sentries in the trees‚ and on a platform in the water‚ a female alligator is holding an eyeball-to-eyeball staring contest with a turtle. The mood soon might be interrupted by a crunching sound as the gator devours the yellow-bellied slider‚ but for now‚ neither moves‚ prompting one visitor on the observation deck to wonder aloud‚ “Are these animals real or fake?”
Wildlife on Jekyll Island is decidedly real and unusually accessible‚ and its guardians urge visitors to adopt a policy of peaceful—and respectful—coexistence. “We don’t want people walking around in fear of alligators‚” says Ben Carswell‚ director of conservation for the Jekyll Island Authority. “At the same time we don’t want people harassing them‚ trying to catch them‚ or feeding them. Feeding them makes them unafraid of people and therefore all the more dangerous. We need to keep wildlife wild.”
Managing the relationship between gators and people is a critical mission for the Jekyll Island Authority’s wildlife team. While fatal alligator attacks are incredibly rare (there’s only been one ever in Georgia‚ in 2007), the potential for danger is always present—for both parties. “A fed gator is a dead gator‚” says wildlife manager Joseph Colbert. “If one becomes too aggressive we would have to put it down. We haven’t done that yet‚ but we keep it on the table as an option.”
The Jekyll Island Authority’s conservation department and Sea Turtle Center work to monitor the population and study the alligators’ movements‚ reproduction‚ and health. Initially‚ for five years‚ researchers surveyed thirty locations monthly with powerful spotlights that picked up the gators’ spooky red eye shine. As the project evolved, researchers mounted GPS tracking units on the animals, which collected valuable location data. They also notched their tails for identification purposes and took blood samples to gauge their health. The gators‚ who were not hurt during the process‚ were tracked for a year.
The GPS device collected location points every hour that could be downloaded remotely. “This revealed where we might have conflicts with people‚” says Gregory Skupien‚ who came to Jekyll as an AmeriCorps volunteer and stayed to write a master’s thesis on alligator conservation. Their findings? An estimated 110 alligators four feet or longer now call Jekyll home‚ though they have been known to venture as far away as St. Simons and Brunswick. The tracking and identification marks enable wildlife professionals to see when an alligator shows up in an undesirable spot. “These are usually the unruly‚ energetic teenage gators who cause problems‚” says Carswell. For example‚ one might emerge onto a crowded beach‚ causing alarm. In that case‚ it is likely exhausted and trying to travel back to its preferred freshwater habitat; staffers can break out the treble hook and lend it a helping hand to get home. The system also reveals repeat offenders who are begging for food. About 18 percent of the calls to Jekyll’s wildlife hotline involve alligators‚ and half of those require a response from a park ranger or wildlife manager.
The GPS research ended in 2015‚ but the Jekyll conservation team continues to keep tabs on the animals through standard mark-and-recapture procedures. Though the population fluctuates‚ the gators tend to police themselves. “Large males and even siblings will take out other alligators‚ which keeps the population from exploding‚” says Colbert. “They don’t have predators to keep their populations in balance‚ and they won’t just allow thousands to grow up to compete with them‚ so they regulate themselves by being territorial and essentially fighting for space to survive.” o look at one of these animals—Alligator mississippiensis—is to gaze deep into the primordial past. Gators have not evolved much since their ancestors emerged during the Cretaceous period 65 million years ago. The name “alligator” is believed to be an anglicized version of “el lagarto‚” or “the lizard” in Spanish‚ the language of early explorers and settlers in Florida.
Alligators are most active during mating season in the spring. “Around here‚ you can hear the males bellow‚” Carswell says. “It’s this low-volume rumble that’s almost ultrasonic‚