Alligator Hunting

Thought it always would be difficult and dangerous to
hunt an alligator in Florida. Not necessarily true. Also thought a gator hunter was of a special breed. You know, part Seminole Indian, part Florida Cracker, part swamp-dude.  Wrong there, too. With a few tools-of-the-trade, loads of patience, decent respect for crushing jaws filled with six dozen sharp teeth, the ability to properly cast a fishing pole, and a liking for mosquito bites, most anyone can catch and kill a gator.

In Florida, a prospective alligator hunter must submit his or her name for an annual lottery drawing. If selected, an alligator license will be issued to the “lucky” person for a particular location within Florida. Two gators, per license holder, are allowed to be harvested during certain dates of the year. At the prodding of a friend, I half-heartedly submitted my name for the 2011 lottery. Well, you'd know it. Lo and behold, my dern name was picked.

At the time, I hadn’t a clue how to hunt an alligator. My total alligator hunting experience amounted to watching the television show 'Swamp People.' "Rest assured," my friend said.  "You'll be in good hands with two fine acquaintances of mine who are very experienced alligator hunters. They'll go out with you to your assigned area and will even provide the necessary hunting paraphernalia. All you need to take is your gator license and tags." Reluctantly, I agreed.

On a warm September night, I met my hunting partners at a McDonalds in Orlando. From there we proceeded on a 2-hr. journey, southeast to the hunting area near the swampy headwaters of the St. Johns River. In the distance, the lights of the assembly buildings at Kennedy Space Center marked our eastern boundary. The full moon shined its glory, lighting the sky and the multitude of canals and levees surrounding us. As soon as we got there, I anxiously put a spotlight’s beam over the water. Gazing at me were at least a dozen sets of green alligator eyes. Within seconds, they were gone.

Pause for a brief lesson in Alligator Hunting 101. Anytime there is a congregation of eyes together in a stretch of water, they are usually small gators. The 6-ft. variety. Children. The alligator hunter wants the big ones. 9-feet and longer. Why? Well, it’s not for the hides. No money there anymore due to the economy. More so for the glory, the bragging rights, and the fight. The hunter must also understand the theory of “what comes up, goes down.” Probably the most frustrating part of alligator hunting. And, when the gator goes down, he stays down. Sometimes for twenty minutes; then, reappearing 50-yards from where you last saw him. A tactic the larger ones use … and, that’s why they get so big. They ain’t stupid. If you’re lucky,the gator will leave a bubble trail in the direction he's heading.

So, what we wanted to find was that lone pair of eyes. The gator all by himself with fifty yards of water on each side of him, void of other gators. This will be the big one … habitating his personal territory. No six-footer or smaller, in their right mind, mosies into a big one’s space. They’ll only do it once. A big one’s eyes will be far apart. And, the distance from the tip of his snout to his eyes will be far. Only a half-hour had passed while we patrolled in the darkness along the levee, spotlights beaming over the water, when one of my hunting partners whispered, “There’s one! Across the canal by the bank.” Thirty yards away a large pair of green eyes stared at us. I waited for the gator to go down, but it didn’t. It was as if the gator was daring us to catch him. We all three spazzed and went into “excitement mode”, tip-toeing hurriedly away to get the gator-catching equipment. There the gator was upon our return … same place, with the same taunting look. We had one chance of casting a 5-inch treble hook to the other side of his body and jerking, hopefully embedding the large barbs into his body. If the cast missed, the gator would go down. If we missed and he didn’t go down, I sure wasn’t going to mess around anymore with this particular gator. He would be either one mean SOB with a desire to bite us or he was on Quaaludes … and I wasn’t about to mess with a gator on drugs.

One hunting partner was a big dude and to him went the honors of making the cast. Armed with a stout surf fishing rod, lined with 200# test and a steel leader, he made the toss. He yanked and set the treble hook and on the very first try we had the gator. When he flopped and splashed and carried on and did what gators do when snagged, we saw that he was indeed a big one.

Pause for another brief lesson in Alligator Hunting 101. Big gators, when snagged, get pissed and dive to the bottom. Once there, they dig in. Even though they don’t lift weights, they are tremendously strong.

So, we had a huge gator hooked, at the bottom of an 8-ft. deep canal, thirty yards from where we were standing. And, every mosquito within three miles had arrived to suck our blood. After thirty minutes of strong-armed fighting, and a busted-in-half fishing pole (but not the line), the gator was within harpoon range. While the third dude in our party held the spotlight, I positioned myself precariously on the edge of the bank (thinking holy shit what if I fall in), holding the harpoon high, waiting for the gator to be pulled closer and nearer the top of the water. The dude holding the pole was freaking, hollering, and becoming very exhausted. Saying something like, “Throw the damn harpoon!” I did and I missed. Twice. The third throw I buried the harpoon deep into the gator’s side. Sounded like I’d hit a pumpkin. Now with two lines on the gator, we both pulled and got him beside the bank.

Pause for one more brief lesson in Alligator Hunting 101. There is a piece of equipment called a bang stick. It is a thin 5-ft. pole with an armed charge at the end, typically a .357 or .44 magnum shell. The hunter, poised above the alligator, shoves the pole against the gator’s head in an area behind the eyes, firing the charge and killing the gator.

So, here I am, now poised above the gator holding the bang stick. Ours is armed with a .223 caliber shell. I thrust it hard against the gator’s head below me and nothing happens. No bang. A dud. New shell, another thrust, and nothing happens. No bang again. Finally, with a third shell, I succeeded in demolishing the back of his head. We hauled him ashore. And, he began crawling away, down the levee, quite quickly. Amazingly quickly. Sure didn't wake up that morning expecting to be walking a 9-ft. alligator on a leash in the moonlight. Finally, after another shell to the head, electrical tape around his jaws, and a tag inserted into his tail, we had our gator.

Huge lizards creep me out. Think I’ll stick to hunting squirrels.