Babies vs Alligators

I am often asked if I worry about alligators. As a hiker and an Everglades tour guide I see them often. In fact we guarantee guests that they will see them on our tour. I never take for granted that we have massive reptilians that can grow more than fourteen feet in length. I understand them and I respect them. I do not worry about them.

Recently my wife and I took our baby for a stroll on a trail next to a marsh near our home. As she pushed the stroller through a muddy portion of the trail I noticed the stroller tracks bisecting an animal’s tracks. There was no mistaking it. A large all­igator had recently crawled from the river, climbed the muddy berm and descended into the pond on the other side. The large webbed feet made deep impressions in the mud and the sinuous trail of its heavy tail drew a perfect impression of an animal walking with a side to side gait.

The alligator was nowhere in sight, nor was it lurking in wait to snatch our baby. It was a hot day and no doubt it simply wanted to get from one body of water to another. Fish, birds, turtles and other prey that are easily chomped and swallowed are typically on the menu. American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis) often take to the water at the sight of a person and while attacks do happen, there have been only 568 reported in Florida since 1948. Males were involved in 86% of attacks and unsurprisingly, many of those were provoked.

Feeding an alligator often results in an alligator losing its natural fear of people and they are more likely to approach. Swimming in rivers, canals and ponds, especially at night can mimic the sound of injured prey which draws the attention of an alligator. Water hazards on golf courses can be literal hazards as well.  

Having said all of that, the number of fatalities caused by alligators since 1948 is twenty three. The number of babies in strollers chased by alligators? Zero. Am I careful? Yes. Am I worried? There are more important things to worry about.

Things that bite in the Night - the Fire Ant

“Coffee” is usually the first thought that I have upon waking. On this particular day I awoke, panicked, thinking “I need to get my wedding ring off my finger now”. I didn't know why but the band was cutting off circulation to my finger which had swollen to a light shade of grape. The ring itself looked like a hula hoop on a hippo. Butter, Vaseline, WD-40, there was no way I was squeezing out of it.

I found a red bump at the knuckle. It itched so my assumption was I had been bitten. I treated it with “after bite”. I put my hand in ice. I kept it elevated. I tried Benedryl. Nothing was working. The finger was turning a deeper shade of purple and aching like a thumb hit by a hammer. By 10 pm it was time to go to the ER.

In the ER the red bump had grown into a white-capped pustule and the doctor quickly identified what I should have guessed already. As I slept I was bitten by a single Red Imported Fire Ant (Solenopsis invicta). Fire Ants are native to South America but can be found throughout the southern U.S. Back in the 30’s they were inadvertently introduced by a cargo ship docked in Alabama.

They are mound builders that can establish multiple satellite colonies of hundreds of thousands of ants. They inject painful venom to both defend the colony and take down potential prey. In Florida, these ants stand accused of causing the population decline of the Southern Hognose Snake (Heterodon simus) and the Florida Kingsnake (Lampropeltis getula floridanus) by consuming incubating eggs.

A White-tailed Deer (Odocoileus virginianus) fawn will freeze in place at the sight, sound or smell of danger. If they happen to do so in or around a Fire Ant mound, the ants will begin climbing up the animal and then bite in unison. The bites are not only painful but the itching and swelling can last for four days or more. This of course happens to people as well. Some experience anaphylaxis.

In the ER I was given a choice. Leave the wedding ring unscathed and hope the swelling subsides or cut the ring off to alleviate the pressure and save my finger.

“Cut it off! The ring not the finger”

They did. The swelling subsided and wife insisted I get the ring fixed immediately. 

Welcome to Sunniland

Like a hermit crab, we outgrew our home and had to move to a bigger place. Although L.A. was originally scratched from our home search back in April of 2009, it quickly became obvious that Lehigh Acres, FL would be the only place in Lee county that was suitable and on November 20th, 2009 we moved into our new home. I'll post more on "Sunniland" tomorrow for those interested in named places, oil fields and railroads but for the time being this is our new hermit crab shell.

Ma-Le and Pia

An entrance to accommodate Giraffes

"Vegetative fuel" all around. In realtor speak that means plants that burn and are a threat to your house so you might want to cut them down.

Nice old Live Oak in the backyard

"Wood"-tiled floors

"General Tso - get off the bed..."

"General Tso - get out of the tub...."

Sunset on Sunniland

Moonrise over Sunniland

Jelly Belly

And people wonder why I hate the beach.... Nothing gets my attention quicker when I'm floating around in the ocean than someone racing out of the water screaming.

"JELLYFISH! JELLYFISH!" - Suddenly I felt a sting on my leg. I was nowhere near this person screaming so apparently my psychosomatic empathy was kicking in. MaLe and I had been relaxing in the ocean for a while so we decided to head out and as I pushed my way towards shore I felt an electric buzz drag from my bellybutton, around my side and across my back. No doubt what that was.

The photo is the rash from belly to back. Nasty. And the rash is nasty too.

Having an allergy to bee stings - I was immediately concerned with the effects of a jellyfish sting and made my way to our beach chairs to find my epi-pen - a needle-injected dose of epinephrine that prevents severe allergic reactions and potential death. I looked through the bag. No epi-pen. I raced back to the car, side swelling, rash burning. No epi-pen in the car. I ran over to the ranger station - no ranger in the ranger station. Peeing on it won't work. My throat was not swelling but my heart was beating twice as fast as normal. When I finally found a ranger he explained to me how rare it is to find jellyfish here, but I was the 10th victim of the day. He explained I'd have to hang upside down while he attached leeches to my skin as a remedy. Seeing as I wasn't believing that nonsense - he used an After Bite stick - apparently the ammonia neutralizes the sting. No anaphylactic shock to worry about anyway. The burning subsided and we retreated back home.

I wouldn't have needed it but it was only the third time I have been without my Epi-Pen. Must remember - Epi means "upon" in Greek. Must have the Epi-Pen upon me if I ever need it.

My Left Foot - Beach Edition

If you did not have the full function of your arms or legs how would you manage? You might have the opportunity to regain certain abilities. You might remain in that condition for the duration of your life. I've thought about it and my mobility is something I don't take for granted. Nor do I dismiss the great achievements of those that have overcome a perceived disability.

Birds will tuck a leg up under their fluffed plumes to conserve energy while at rest. I've overheard many bird watchers point out a one-legged bird, only to be surprised when the second leg miraculously appeared. Sunday night we walked on Fort Myers Beach and watched a Willet dart back and forth with the inhalation and exhalation of sea foam. Clearly this one has both legs.

Further down the beach we spotted another Willet behaving rather strangely.

It had only one leg. The other leg could have been bitten off. Maybe it was tangled in monofilament fishing line, restricting blood flow and causing it to fall off. Maybe it was born without it. It did have a small stump which was noticeable as it hopped around.

The bird did not feel sorry for itself. It asked for no favors. It simply hopped about in the surf in a very un-Willet like gait, feeding on invertebrates and such. We watched it feed for several minutes, impressed by its determination, balance and grace. It occurs to me that you can do anything when you must. Survival is harsh and beautiful all at once.

I Give Up

Why is Jungle Pete riding the leg of a 26-foot tall aluminium nurse in this photo? Static electricity experiment? Publicity stunt for the Meat Blog? Bad Mexican food? Do you give up?

The statue "Unconditional Surrender" brings dimension to the famous World War II photo of a sailor smooching a nurse in Times Square. The classic impromptu moment captured the thrill of victory as Japan announced their surrender. Subsequent photos reveal the nurse pulling pepper spray from her skirt and spraying the anonymous sailor in the face.

None of this explains my bucking calf ride.

The statue was first unveiled in New York City in 2005 before it came to the shores of Sarasota, Florida. It remained there for the "art season" before the colossal creation was shipped off to San Diego. Residents of my birthplace of Sarasota were so elated that the steel curtain was falling on this 3-D peep show that they brought it back. Sort of.

Yes people hated it. But enough people enjoyed it that a Category 3 hurricane-proof aluminum replica was created as a modern day Colossus for Sarasota Bay. Although the size pales in comparison (the statue of Helios, aka the Colossus of Rhodes was over 4x the size), the cost to the city drew a few more detractors. At $700,000, the price tag to keep the piece of art was more than the community was willing to bear. Case closed. Haters go home happy...until an 88-year old WWII veteran came forward and offered to pay for the statue which will now apparently remain in the city of.... in the city that.... what the hell is Sarasota famous for???

Which brings me back to the original question - Why am I riding the leg? Friends Rebecca and Eric Gordon, who will remain nameless brought MaLe and me here over the weekend to enjoy the spectacle. As we approached, a passenger in a car passing by yelled "that statue sucks". I disagree and to finally answer the question - I'm riding the leg because there wasn't a sign that said I couldn't.

Carter's Tern-about

When a 20-something woman began running down Barefoot Beach I took notice. In front of her was a flock of 25-30 Royal Terns and assorted gulls and her intent was obvious - get every single bird to fly. As bird after bird took off to avoid the rampaging woman in a sun dress, Ma-Le suggested that we (including my sister Tara and family) get up and rampage toward the woman. I would have done it if I wasn't tired, comfortable, lazy and just too embarrassed to perform this display of karmic balance. I wish I had - I was annoyed - the woman not only disrupted our peaceful setting but when birds are disturbed like this they waste energy. One person doing this might not impact them much but repeated disruptions?

The woman and friends passed. The birds settled back down and relaxed and than my nephew decided to go for a stroll of his own.

Ah - some day I'll explain it all to him.....

Edison Part I: Caloosahatchee Nights

When Thomas Edison visited Fort Myers on his honeymoon with Mina in 1895, he was so taken by the natural beauty of south Florida that he commented "There is only one Fort Myers and 90 million people are going to find it out." He established a winter home here along the banks of the Caloosahatchee River (pictured below) in 1897 and spent many winters tinkering in his lab and exploring the outdoors. Today the Edison/Ford Estates is a historical museum and botanical garden on the property once owned by friends Edison and Henry Ford. I volunteered here a few nights ago during Edison Holiday Nights where guests can enjoy the grounds and buildings lit up and decorated for the holidays. I enjoyed it enough that I came back the next night with a camera for the last night of the season.

My Great Aunt Hilda lived a mile up the road from here when I was a kid and we would visit the museum during our visits from Venice. The largest Banyan tree in North America stretches across an acre of land behind Ma-Le and Margie - (posing here with the equally gigantic Edison. He was 8 feet tall.)Edison's lab was used primarily for research into alternative derivations of rubber and napping. His failure to efficiently harvest latex from goldenrod was one of the few failures in relation to his many successful inventions and patents. So let's not dwell on it. I assume this was originally a 3-horse garage? In 1916, Edison's good friend Henry Ford moved in next door with dreams of ubiquitous motorized carriages, streets with no horse poop and something south Florida had never seen....traffic.As Edison grew older his visits to the "Seminole Lodge" became less and his winter visit in 1931 would be his last. He passed away at age 84 on October 18th of that year. One of the signature tree species found not only on Edison's property but lining the avenues and parking lots all across south Florida is the Royal Palm. The trees famously line McGregor Boulevard which runs the length of the Caloosahatchee River southwest towards Sanibel.
What looks like a black and white is actually a color photo with long exposure. if you look closely you can pick out some of the reds. In the background is Henry Ford's historic home.

I still enjoy walking the grounds and peering into his home and lab. That sounds creepy. But I do so with a sense of logging for a day when things seemed more genuine and less commercialized. As Edison conceived, designed, developed and evolved so much of his eras technology with the full intention of making life better and easier I wonder how he would look at the world we live in today.

"90 million people are going to find it out" echos in my head as I stand along the shore of the Caloosahatchee River. I've seen the quote in several places. Some sources suggesting Edison said it with sorrow. Other saying he said it with an enthusiastic vision of the future.

I think back to 1909. There was no hum of traffic. There were sparingly few bulbs to light up the night. This small plot of land - this piece of history remains relatively unchanged compared to what is out there....It is ironic that Edison and Ford's winter homes have become an oasis of simplicity.

Kingdom of the Monkey Skulls

Another for my mother (12/27/2005) - Three years gone by but your voice echos through my adventures.My father once joked that when archaeologists discover this site in the future they'll theorize that an ancient race of tiny people lived and thrived here. In fact, the ground beneath my feet today was the site of my childhood home and the Florida Monkey Sanctuary until 1988. Many monkeys found refuge here. More were born here and some were buried here. When my mother sold the property 20 years ago, many of the monkey cages were torn down. I returned in 1993 to see what had become of the place. An older man had moved in with his even older mother and I was content to know that the land was well taken care of. Flash forward to 12/27/2008 and today's visit. The house has been torn down and burned due to termites. The owner long since gone. The land is now used as a horse ranch. The neighbor's yard is less than welcoming. I don't test the dog or my speed. But we have permission to walk our old property. Beautiful old oaks cast their branches out over sandy soil. Margaret, a Clydesdale and my first horse (and the first word I ever spoke - Mah-gwet!) is buried here.What appears as a ditch is a dried up moat that encircled two islands. Peter's Island (named for my grandfather) was inhabited by squirrel monkeys in the 70's until a Florida Panther swam across and taught her kittens how to hunt. The bridge was built by my dad and me when I was 13. The next owner built the handrails, but our bridge to nowhere actually went somewhere. As a kid the island was completely forested and seemed to be a dense impenetrable jungle that I would always try to explore.Spread across the 10 acres were several corn cribs that functioned as housing for several hundred primates over the course of 20 years. On past explorations I had discovered little remains of the Sanctuary but I forged further into the "creepy" corner of the property and found three round concrete slabs that once were the foundations for the corn cribs. A shallow pool remains. My sister Tiffany called it creepy and I think she was referring to the NW corner. The NE corner was always creepy to me and I would run as fast as I could - from what I don't know.
As I explored further I instantly recognized the distinct aqua blue color of the swimming pool that once belonged to a troop of Weeper Capuchins. On rare occasions I would have the good fortune of hosing out the cages. The pool was always the toughest to clean. It was a task normally relegated to my mother or father. I must confess that while hosing the cages, certain monkeys would come down and shake the cage. I don't know if they were tainting me or playing, but I would spray them. They looked peeved but they always returned. I tell myself they were having fun. An orange tree grows at the edge of a concrete slab. No doubt the consequence of a discarded seed or two. The monkeys and apes were fed Monkey Chow as well as grapes, apples and oranges that my family prepared for them. (Marshmallows were always a vice of several sugar-loving simians). Today the ancient ruins from the 70's are lightly covered by tropical vegetation. Water pipes remain buried beneath leaves and soil. Bones of long past primates rest just beneath the surface. To the casual observer, all of these subtle clues might be dismissed. To me, they are my Machu Pichu. Relics of my childhood that echo a memory of my mother.

Spending Time Behind Bars

One of my goals in life was to see monkeys in the wild. Growing up at the Florida Monkey Sanctuary in the 70's, I was surround by primates - squirrel monkeys, spider monkeys, capuchins, baboons, siamangs and many more. Many had been taken from the wild and sold in the U.S. as pets, finding their way to the sanctuary through various means.
Some had been born in the U.S. or on the sanctuary and although their lives may have been better for coming to the sanctuary, they were never truly free. To see monkeys in the wild is to experience one of the most beautiful things in nature (which I have several times in Ecuador - I recommend it). To see monkeys in captivity is often heart breaking.

In 1988, many of the monkeys at our sanctuary were sent to other zoos and sanctuaries. I never imagined that 20 years later I would have the chance to see some of them again. But a friend of the sanctuary contacted me a few months ago and told me a few monkeys were changing hands and would be introduced to two sanctuaries in north Florida.

On our trip to Tennessee I thought it would be a good opportunity to visit. The sanctuary was not far from our route. The monkeys in question were Maddie (named after the Cybil Shepard character on Moonlighting) and Gertie (named for the Drew Barrymore character in E.T.). Gertie was born on the sanctuary in 1982. Her mother died at birth and my parents had to take care of her. She lived in the house for the first year or so. Lived in a crib. Wore a diaper. Watched cartoons with us. We essentially grew up with her.

I called the sanctuary when we were close and was informed she had been moved to a new facility which was only 15 minutes from where we were. It turns out her new home is a zoo - which concerned me and when we arrived the sign stated they were closed for a private function. So we became part of the private function and no one was the wiser. We were able to slip into the zoo and found our way to the spider monkey cages. No Gertie. We continued on to the back of the small zoo and found two black spider monkeys. Surely they would not recognize me after 20 years right? Maddie was younger than Gertie and was not raised in the house. I would never expect her to recognize me. She didn't get carried around to baseball games and out to restaurants. She didn't go to New York in the summer time with the family like Gert. Add the fact that Maddie now has testicles - I'm sure that this monkey had no idea who I was. Somewhere along the way, monkeys got switched. I called to Gertie and she came right over. Maybe she wants attention? Maybe this is part of her show?
MaLe called to Gertie. Nothing. She continued to stare at me and chatter. Gertie - not MaLe. I would love to think that she recognized me. The zoo keeper found it interesting and suggested the two spiders are usually shy. I'm not sure I wanted Gert to recognize me because I would have to leave her. As well intentioned as some of the zoos may be, its certainly not an idyllic life for these animals. We left and made arrangements to call the zoo director to see what I could do to help make a better life for the two spiders. Apparently Gert gets quite upset when she is separated from her new Maddie.

I'm not sure what I can do, but I will do my best to help her. It's good to know that they don't breed animals at this zoo. It's also illegal to import monkeys into the United States.

It breaks my heart to see animals in these conditions. It hurts having to leave Gert behind bars.

Click to hear Gertie chatter at me

Brett Favre - The Movie

Former Green Bay Packer Brett Favre recently came out of retirement, only to be traded to the New York Jets. Nearly every U.S. citizen knows this and many know the long time Packer leads the NFL in passing yards, touchdowns and interceptions. My Ecuadorian wife does not.


I was asking a friend recently what he thought of Brett Favre's return. MaLe was eavesdropping and chimed in.

"I loved that movie"

"huh?"

"Braveheart!"



No no - Brett Favre. He played for the Green Bay Packers - does Wrangler Jeans commercials - was in Something About Mary - the last reference rang a bell.


Our language barrier can be frustrating sometimes and amusing other times. We just watched a fantastic movie that we both could relate to on that matter.

Outsourced

When his department is outsourced to India, customer call center manager Todd Anderson heads to Mumbai to train his successor. Amusing culture clashes soon ensue as Anderson tries to explain American business practices to the befuddled new employees -- and in the process learns some important lessons about globalization … and life. Director John Jeffcoat's delightful comedy also stars Ayesha Dharker and Matt Smith.


MaLe tends to choose the foreign/independent films which I resist at first and usually enjoy. This one is quite funny and deserving of attention. Its a good reminder that we all need to look outside our borders and take a deeper appreciation of the diversity of landscapes and cultures. We are all both similar and different in many ways. I mean are Brett Favre and Braveheart all that different? Yes and No.

7-10 Split

We're finally heading to the Great Smokey Mountains for out "honeymoon". We'll be missing the 7-10 Split Bowling Event this evening in Naples (Sorry Gomer and Kara). That is if Hurricane Gustav doesn't alter plans.

We'll get a 7-10 split of our own as that hurricane passes by and Tropical Storm Hannah lingers to the east. We'll squeeze up I-75 between the two storms and hope that all remains well back at home. On our way north, we hope to stop at Ziggy's - an animal sanctuary in Lake City, FL where 4 of our monkeys from the former Florida Monkey Sanctuary now reside. Most noteable is Gertie - a 26 year old spider monkey who was raised by my parents and is like a long lost sister to me. There may be tears. 100% chance if she remembers me.

Gertie is seen above - swaddled in the pink and white crocheted blanket - playing the role of the baby Jesus. (circa 1983?) Gertie was brought to a new sanctuary in 2008 after suffering was a skin problem (seen below) at her home in North Carolina. I'm told she's doing much better.
Then its up to Tennessee for a few days of hiking, waterfalls, train rides and cave exploration.

I hope everyone stays safe in the storms.

HurriCone Honeymoon

I rarely buy into the hype. I'm not one to succumb to mania or participate in a frenzy but when my home is projected to be within the HurriCone I can't help but freak out a little bit. First of all I would trademark "HurriCone" but apparently its some type of floor drying equipment. "Floor soaking wet from the latest storm? You need a HurriCone!"

2nd of all - I'm in the freaking cone for Tropical Storm Gustav.

My boss says don't worry as he packs his travel bags to head to the Dominican Republic. My dad says not to worry as I need to pack my bags to head to the Great Smokey Mountains for our honeymoon. Mine and Ma-Le's. Not Mine and my fathers.




The cone essentially represents the area that a hurricane has the potential of hitting. It's the probability that suggests if God drops his ice cream - will it land on you?

Fay has passed by and here comes Gustav. It quickly went from Tropical Wave to Tropical Depression to Tropical Storm and Hurricane within 24 hours before weakening over the mountains of Haiti. But forecasters say it will head through the Gulf of Mexico and as of right now (Wednesday 8/27) the storm is forecasted to head towards New Orleans by Sunday. It could go any which way regardless of the cone. I know that.

But Tennessee doesn't get hurricanes. Right?