The Crocodile Hunter: The Incredible Life and Adventures of Steve and Terri Irwin (23 page)

Now that Old Faithful has been educated to avoid people, the
greatest
task of all time is being tackled—education of the people who visit crocodile territory. To keep both crocodiles and visitors safe, all people visiting wilderness areas should be well educated and totally respectful of the crocodiles’ family structure and their territory. It’s the toughest job of all! Terri and I will continue to film our interaction with crocodilians to maximize the education of potential visitors to our national parks and the conservation of the special reptile. Crocs always have and always should rule! We just need to understand their rules.

Bindi

S
teve came in late one night. This wasn’t unusual; he often got caught up in a project. Sometimes he would be building a huge rock formation for a new enclosure here at Australia Zoo, or maybe he’d be digging a new crocodile pond with his trusty old backhoe. But tonight was different. There was no clanging of tools or hum of machinery. The zoo was quiet and still; only a stream of smoke from Steve’s fire gave away his location. Was he planning a new filming adventure? I couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind, but I sensed that he needed some time on his own. His dinner got cold and I put it away. I was doing some paperwork when I heard the door close quietly and Steve walked in.

“What’s going to happen to the zoo?” he asked.

I couldn’t figure out what Steve was talking about. Everything was running well with the zoo and nothing was about to happen.

“When we’re gone, what’s going to happen to the zoo?” This time Steve sounded almost panicked. He had been sitting by that fire for hours reviewing his life, growing up with all these animals. Some would outlive us by many years. His concerns were quite valid. We were up most of the night talking about our hopes and dreams for conservation and Australia Zoo. There was no doubt in our minds about the next step to take. Steve and I both grew up with a burning passion for saving wildlife. Now we needed to pass on this desire to make a difference in the world. We’d made the big decision. More than anything on Earth, we knew that we wanted a child.

Steve’s enthusiasm and joy at the prospect of having a baby was extremely contagious. It became a topic of conversation at Australia Zoo, during film shoots, and at every family gathering. Everyone was happy and excited at the thought of a little Irwin running around, but we had some practical points to work out, too. After all, our lives were hardly normal. Filming wildlife documentaries all over the world and living in the middle of a zoo surrounded by wild animals would make having a child even more challenging. We were determined to set some ground rules right from the start. We both felt strongly that we stick together as a family and encourage our little one to follow dreams wherever they led, even if that meant something other than wildlife conservation.

It was after a whirlwind trip to America, filled with awards, banquets, and promotional events, that I came home to discover that I was pregnant. I was amazed to see Steve at loss for words when I told him.

“Congratulations…I love you,” he stammered as he gave me a big hug and a kiss. He was then on the phone for hours telling everyone the good news. I didn’t realize he knew so many people.

We had reveled in our happy news for only a few days when we received an urgent phone call from far North Queensland. It was the peak of the dry season and some of the crocodiles were in serious trouble. Many younger crocs were having great difficulty traveling the distance from their drying water holes to more permanent bodies of water. One enormous old freshwater crocodile refused to leave a farmer’s canal. He had dug himself into the tiny bit of water remaining, but it was fast disappearing. There was no time to waste. We contacted the film crew and headed for the tropics.

I was lucky to have a doctor with common sense give me advice for my pregnancy. He told me that I didn’t need to change my lifestyle since I’d become pregnant, but that I shouldn’t take on any new or different physical challenges. I was in good health and got the OK to continue filming. The main caution Dr. Voucollo and Dr. Tarr gave me was regarding the heat. It was more important to avoid getting overheated, particularly during the first trimester.

As we drove north I began to realize what a challenge this was going to be. The summer heat and humidity was heavy like a wet wool blanket. We had to drive into a very remote location and then pack up for a hike across country to the farm. An epic journey!

We arrived just before dark after driving two days nonstop. It was too late to survey the plight of the crocodile, so we made camp. I was amazed at how tired I was. Every little task was an effort and I was asleep before I hit the swag.

At first light I woke up to Steve boiling the billy. Still tired from the long trip, I had a quick cuppa before gearing up for the big hike ahead. Steve had to think of everything we might need to help this crocodile. We packed ropes, tarps, blindfolds, knives, food, and a lot of water. Steve carried most of the equipment, including some of the camera gear, and we headed out. By midmorning we all began to feel the effects of the sun blazing relentlessly down on us. I knew that I was slowing the group down as I stopped to cool down in every available shade. Nobody complained about our slow progress. I continued to push on, keen to reach the crocodile that so desperately needed our help.

It was after noon when we finally reached a small series of canals. Most of them had dried out completely, but one, deeper than the other, still held a bit of moisture—and one cranky crocodile!

We all felt a sense of urgency as Steve scrambled to get the ropes and tarps ready for the move. I felt my adrenaline kicking in as Steve was preparing to jump this eight-foot freshie. The rest seemed like a slow-motion blur. I remember Steve on the croc’s head and shoulders as I jumped its back end, restraining the crocodile’s powerful tail. The mud was much deeper and softer than I’d expected. It was incredibly slippery, and difficult to hold the struggling croc. Steve was shouting for me to pick him up, but I couldn’t move. The suction of the mud had a firm hold on my legs and I felt strangely weak, unable to stand. I felt Steve shift his grip to take more of the crocodile’s weight, then suddenly drop the croc’s head back in the mud. It was only after the immense struggle to the top of the canal that I discovered why Steve hesitated so abruptly. While he was trying to drag me and the crocodile out of the mud, the frightened freshie picked his moment and snapped down on Steve’s hand. In an instant, Steve’s hand was crushed. One of croc’s teeth had broken off in Steve’s thumb, leaving Steve severely incapacitated.

Even though the crocodile did make it safely to a new billabong, and Steve’s hand eventually healed up just fine, I realized that the next few months would be very different for us. I would have to be much more careful about backing up Steve while I was in this “delicate state.”

As the months passed, the weather began to cool off a bit and my body began to adjust to the demands of pregnancy. We were planning a documentary shoot in the Galapagos Islands. I knew this would be my last chance to film overseas before the baby was born and I was incredibly keen to go. Given my history of working in the heat, Steve was concerned about carting my huge tummy directly to the equator, but the giant Galapagos land tortoises compelled me to go. After all, our tortoise Harriet was collected from the Galapagos Islands in 1835. More than anything I wanted to see where she came from.

Another adventure-me in my delicate state with a gopher snake.

I was in my last trimester as I waddled onboard the catamaran that we would call home for the next few weeks. The crew welcomed us onboard and a couple of them even spoke a little English—bonus! Below deck we visited our quarters. Steve and I shared a room that was quite nice and unbelievably small. There was one tiny window above the bed and a little fan that rattled terribly. And then there was the heat. Even though we were out on the ocean, there was absolutely no sign of a breeze. The air was still and it was hot—easily the hottest place I had ever been.

That night the crew prepared us a lovely dinner and we enjoyed the magic of the wildlife all around us. We decided to turn in and get an early start the next morning. Little did we know, the sleeping arrangements themselves would be an adventure! The small bunk was situated close to the ceiling and the little room was like an oven. Since Steve’s a very light sleeper and would be up a lot during the night, I chose to sleep next to the wall. We both lay there, drenched in sweat with no breeze and a very loud fan puffing a bit of air over us. I finally heard Steve’s breathing change as he fell asleep. I tried to relax enough to go to sleep myself, but it was difficult in a room that eerily reminded me of a crypt. The more I thought about the cramped quarters, the less inclined I was to rest. As an added drama, I then felt the call of nature. I wasn’t sure how I’d do it, but I felt compelled to try and slither out of my bunk and sneak to the rest room without waking Steve. Inch by inch I slid over Steve, who was in a deep sleep. Just as I was about to clear the other side of the bunk, the slope of the ceiling caught me. There I was with my big tummy wedging me firmly between Steve and the ceiling. Steve woke with a start—he must have thought one of the local sea lions had him!

Although the nights were long, the days were filled with fantastic wildlife. Nothing was afraid of us and we were able to swim with the seals, sea lions, marine iguanas, and even penguins! The land animals were just as spectacular. We watched the lava lizards fighting for a mate, the land iguanas eating the local vegetation, and even my favorite: the precious giant tortoises. After hiking all over the volcanic islands all day, John Stainton (our director/producer) worked hard to make sure there were ice packs available on the boat to keep my tummy cool. Just like the animals around me, I learned to survive the heat. Some of the animals didn’t seem to take any notice of the weather. The flamingos always looked busy as they marched around the pond, sifting through the water for food, and the blue-footed boobies were hilarious as they courted each other by showing off their beautiful blue feet, first holding one foot up high, and then the other. It may have been more difficult to get around while I was so pregnant but it was definitely worth the effort. I have special memories of the Galapagos Islands that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

Back home in Australia we were busy putting the final touches on a shark documentary that we’d been working on for nearly two years. Steve had gotten to know several species very well. We would routinely go hang out with one particular group of tiger sharks who seemed to have gotten to know us, too! Even the giant fourteen-foot-plus females would swim lazily around our dinghy as if to get to know us better. Steve spent many hours in the shark cage having a wonderful time with these deep-sea giants. I was having fun observing from the boat, but the fifteen-hour days in the middle of the ocean were starting to take their toll. At more than eight months pregnant, my body just couldn’t put up with the constant movement out on the water. My doctor told me that it was time to hang out closer to home. Steve would have to tackle the bull sharks on his own.

Steve was worried about leaving me on my own for long periods of time even though the baby wasn’t due for another two weeks. He decided to film the bull sharks on the local river systems so that he wouldn’t risk being stuck in the middle of the ocean if anything happened. The night before he was to head south to search for bull sharks, I thought my water broke…but I wasn’t sure. It was nothing like I’d heard or read about, and not wanting to worry Steve, I just quietly made an appointment to see the doctor the next day.

In the morning it was business as usual at Australia Zoo. Steve had driven only two and a half hours away when he found a good filming location and I merrily drove off to the hospital around lunchtime for a checkup. After a brief examination, Dr. Tarr gave me the news: I’d better call Steve because I was about to have a baby.

Steve was always so calm—even in the face of death—but I could hear the panic in his voice over the mobile phone. I told him not to rush, but I could hear him yelling for the crew to hurry as he hung up. Why was he telling the film crew to hurry? Sure enough, by mid-afternoon, in came Steve, the cameraman, soundman, and John Stainton. I knew some dads bring a video camera, but this was ridiculous!

Since my water had broken the night before, there was some concern that the baby needed to be born soon. Therefore, my labor was induced. It really was an amazing process. Under Dr. Tarr’s instruction, the midwife just dialed my contractions closer together. As the machine released the drug through the IV into my arm, the pain became more intense. Finally, at about 6
P.M
., they announced that I’d be going into the delivery room. That’s when I asked for some kind of pain relief, only to be told that I was too far along for anything but nitrous oxide—a kind of “happy gas.” That sounded great to me until I tried it. One breath and I felt terribly nauseous. The only option I had left was to dig my fingernails into Steve’s arms and legs. I’m still not sure why that made me feel better!

Steve proved to be an inspirational coach. No matter how tired I got, he would convince me to push even harder. I felt a bit like a prizefighter, as he’d give me a play-by-play description of what I needed to do next. As the baby’s head began to emerge, Dr. Tarr called for Steve to help. Grasping the baby’s head gently but firmly, Steve started to pull. The baby’s shoulder hung up for a minute and then it was all over.

“It’s a girl,” came Dr. Tarr’s voice through a haze. We were both surprised. This would mean my parents finally had a granddaughter, since both my sisters had boys. Steve and I had never discussed girls’ names much, but as he held our brand-new baby, he sounded certain when he said he wanted to name her Bindi. It was the word aborigines use for young girl. It was also the name of one of Steve’s favorite crocodiles.