The Crocodile Hunter: The Incredible Life and Adventures of Steve and Terri Irwin (20 page)

The first step was to design and build Charlie’s new enclosure. Because he was a mature male he couldn’t be housed with any other male crocs or they would just fight for territory. We decided not to risk putting him in with a female, either. He hadn’t seen another crocodile for more than a decade, so we couldn’t know how he would react. We finally decided on a section of pond that could be barricaded off and began to build.

Charlie in his old concrete enclosure, awaiting relocation to a more natural site at the Park.

First Steve put up a visual barrier between Charlie’s pond and the crocodile next door. This was crucial as Charlie’s new neighbor would be Acco, the largest croc at the zoo. With Acco more than sixteen feet long and weighing in at one ton, we didn’t want Charlie trying to pick a fight through the fence! Next, Steve began placing the steel bars that separated the pond into two sections. This was the tricky part. Steve had his welding equipment in our crocodile dinghy, floating in the middle of the pond. I sat by the plug. If Steve were to get an electrical shock it was my job to unplug him!

Steve and Wes trying to secure a top-jaw rope on Charlie.

Finally, the last touches were added to Charlie’s new home. There were tea trees for shade and lamandra grass to hide in. There was a main pond as well as a little billabong. Everything was designed to make Charlie feel that he was living out in the bush.

Then it was a question of how to catch Charlie and remove him from his present pen. The tall walls that surrounded him posed unique problems. We couldn’t get in with him unless it was low tide and, even then, once in there was no way to jump back out quickly! Steve decided to utilize most of our staff and leave the zoo to run with a skeleton crew. We even enlisted the help of Bruce, our local excavator driver, who could provide that extra boost when it came time to lift 705 pounds of crocodile over the eight-foot wall. We were lucky enough to have Steve’s parents to help out, too.

Steve holding an alligator.

We all arrived at the aquarium at low tide, as planned. Charlie seemed to know something was up as he sat at the far end of his enclosure. Ladders were placed over the sides and Steve began to try to top-jaw rope Charlie from the top of the wall. Not only did Steve’s attempts fail, they made Charlie even more nervous. In order to position the rope accurately, Steve had no choice but to climb in. Charlie seemed shocked to see someone on his level for the first time in years. This gave Steve the chance he needed and he quickly secured the first top-jaw rope.

Steve, Wes, and me being filmed while loading Charlie into a transport box.

Once Charlie realized he was caught, he became furious. Holding the rope on top of the wall, Bob, Steve’s father, tried to keep the thrashing crocodile from grabbing Steve. Steve was dancing around Charlie’s snapping jaws trying to secure another rope. Sensing that Steve needed help, Wes Mannion vaulted over the wall and ran up to the crocodile to distract him. Wes’s plan worked perfectly. As Charlie swung around, mouth open, trying to kill Wes, Steve easily tossed the second rope over Charlie’s top jaw.

Now that he was being pulled from two directions, Charlie couldn’t swing his head. Meanwhile, the rest of the staff were poised on the edge of the wall, waiting for Steve to give the word. “You’re in!” Steve yelled. I slid over the wall and dropped to the ground along with ten other people. We lined up behind the crocodile without saying a word. Charlie began to death roll. Once, twice…

“Go!” Steve shouted. Like a well-rehearsed rugby tackle, eleven bodies landed on Charlie. Steve eased himself off Charlie’s head as Bob came down the ladder. Bob secured Charlie’s jaws as he’d done with crocodiles a hundred times before. After we slid Charlie into his box, his jaw ropes were relaxed for his long drive home. After hoisting his heavy box over the wall, we all took a moment to revel in the attention being given by the press. Wet and muddy, we all still managed to smile for the cameras!

After a quick stop at the local truck scales to verify Charlie’s weight, we were back home with him safe and sound. All hands were on deck as we slid Charlie out of his box and faced him toward his new pond.

When Steve gave the word, we all jumped off Charlie and ran. As usual, Steve was the last off and as he released Charlie’s head, it was as if Charlie was finally free. He slid into the deep, dark, dirty water and completely disappeared. For the first time in his life, Charlie got to be a crocodile. We silently slipped away from his territory, leaving him to his camouflage in the reeds.

For the next few weeks Charlie was absolutely delirious with joy. He finally had the chance to be a predator and he hunted everything. He proceeded to kill as many fish, eels, yabbies, and turtles as he could find in his pond and then he turned his sights on land animals. Steve and I would laugh so hard, we’d have to sit down or we would have fallen over. Charlie would sit on the bank with the end of his tail twitching like a cat’s as he stalked various birds and lizards. Of course, he didn’t have a hope of catching anything as he lurched forward, awkwardly lunging for his prey. The lizards would just scurry out of his way and look at him as if to say, “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

Even now, Charlie is the only crocodile that we don’t hand-feed. He has this habit of ignoring the food in your hand and aiming for the buttons on your shirt!

The director of our wildlife documentaries had noticed that some of our wildest adventures happened at home, and so was born the idea for “Sleeping With Crocodiles.” Our usual filming trips were always lengthy affairs travelwise, and it was a real luxury to be filming in our own backyard. Working with some of the more dangerous animals proved to be an added bonus for me and pushed me into learning a little faster. When I watch this show today, I have to laugh. Some of the situations that scared me then are routine now.

The most rewarding experience I had was getting to know our boa constrictors. These huge snakes had never been handled and were just as afraid of me as I was of them. The big difference was, when they got scared enough, they would bite!

I decided to start small and work my way up. Steve had two young boa constrictors that lived in a large tank in the living room. I asked Steve’s advice on the best way to become comfortable with them. He suggested I pick up one of the four-year-old snakes and get to know it by spending an hour or so with it every evening. I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to do with it, but I chose the female and named her Rosie.

Steve and me with a reticulated python.

Our first evening was like an awkward date. Rosie sat coiled up at one end of the sofa looking as if she’d rather be anywhere else and I sat at the other end of the sofa trying to eat dinner. We spent several miserable nights like this and I was beginning to think that I was getting nowhere.

Rosie the boa constrictor has a fascination for our visitors.

Then quite unexpectedly, after a couple of weeks of Rosie ignoring me, she tentatively stretched out to my side of the sofa. It wasn’t a huge breakthrough—just a few tongue flicks and she was back to her side of the couch—but it was a first step. After a few more weeks it was impossible to eat dinner because she was all over me. Rosie’s favorite move was to slither up to the top of my head for a look around, her body firmly constricted around my face for support! By the time we filmed “Sleeping With Crocodiles,” Rosie was sitting on the table while I did my bookwork or hanging from my shoulders while I did my housework.

During the filming I had to turn on the heat lamps for our wild boa constrictors. This was something that I would never have been brave enough to do if I hadn’t got to know Rosie first. I can’t say that I would ever trust our wild snakes, but Rosie is so tame that sometimes even visitors get to meet her.

Some of the wildlife that comes to stay with us seems to prefer civilization to living in the bush. Take, for example, the female brushtail possum that found her way to us after she’d been hit by a car. When she arrived, the good folks who had found her sitting alongside the road weren’t sure if she’d live at all. She really was quite a sight. Most of the fur had been scraped off one side and her left eye was hanging out on her cheek.