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Gator hunters a special - crazy? - breed
Chris Haywood, left, and Brett Matthews pose with one of their trophy gators, which is longer than the airboat they used to hunt him down. The gators were unusually large for gators caught on public lands.
Some people are a little bit crazy. It's just a fact.
There are those of us who look at massive, toothy, scaly, flesh-chomping creatures and say, "I hope I never have to get too close to that."
And then there are people like Brett Matthews and Chris Haywood.
These two took off for the Florida swamps and paid good money to actually seek out trophy alligators.
"I know it sounds crazy," Matthews said. "My wife, everybody said we were absolutely nuts for doing it. You would not believe the release forms we had to sign to go do this.
"But it was so much fun."
The guys hooked up with Cocoa-based Central Florida Trophy Hunts on Oct. 14 and set off on a pair of airboats, skipping along the everglades in search of gators no less than 9 feet in length.
How did they prepare for the hunt? Well, how does one prepare to sniff out and snuff 600 pounds of nasty?
"I don't know if there's anything you could do to get prepared for it. I reckon you've got to be a little crazy," Haywood said.
So without knowing exactly what to expect, they helped the guides spot heads on the water. When they found a gator they wanted to go for, they would approach.
With only bubbles and mud trails for clues as the gator went underwater, the hunters would blind cast beyond it and try to hook it on 200-pound test with sturdy trebles.
And if you hook one, you'll know.
"Those gators will take those airboats and pull them like Tonka toys," Haywood said. "Wherever they decide to go, that boat's gonna go with 'em."
After a couple of hooks are set, gator hunters move on to the meaner weapons. Matthews popped his monster with a crossbow attached to a line and a buoy to slow it down and show its whereabouts. They followed him about 400 yards before he tried to go underneath a bank. The sportsman slung a harpoon in him after that, a move the gator didn't take too kindly.
The 11.5-footer began to thrash at the shorter boat, biting anything he could get his teeth on, and snapped the wooden harpoon stake - as thick as an adult wrist - with his jaws.
"You're not strapped in or anything, you're just standing on this platform holding on to this rope, and I had to watch out because as he was rolling, that half of the harpoon that was in him kept coming by my head," Matthews said.
The gator, which guides estimated to be around 50 years old, rolled itself up in the lines and finally was held tight enough for the hunter to end it. Matthews was handed the bang stick and hit the back of the reptile's head with a .45-caliber bullet.
"It's almost like fishing and hunting combined," Matthews said. "You're starting with a fishing pole and finishing with a bow and a harpoon, it's a little bit of everything."
Open for hunting
Public hunts have been happening in Florida since 1988, after gators were declared recovered from endangered status.
The season is only open for a few months, and a limited number of permits are issued by the state.
Biologists estimate the state's gator population to be a healthy 1.3 million. Last year, 7,844 of the animals were harvested. The state wildlife commission offered 6,260 permits for 2010 through a lottery system at $270 apiece, permitting each hunter to take two gators from assigned hunting zones.
Nearly 6,000 permits were sold by the Aug. 15 opening day.
Matthews, of Fayetteville, and Haywood, of Eastover, bought the last two permits owned by their guide, who starts trip prices at $1,500. It took three months for Matthews to get everything in order for the trip. The hardest part was finding someone willing to join in.
"He couldn't find anybody else crazy enough to go with him," Haywood said. "But I jumped right on board. Let's do it! Let's go!"
And if Haywood thought a few episodes of Swamp Things were akin to what they'd find, he was wrong. "Hunting gators is nothing like what you see on TV," he said.
"In Florida, you can't use bush hooks to catch them off food. You can't have a gun in the boat and shoot them from 20 or 30 feet. You have to get that gator within 2 or 3 feet of you to kill it," Haywood said.
By the time he took down his 600-pounder, he'd had the experience of Matthews' hunt, and the two of them were together on an airboat.
They were more confident, although fear didn't play much of a role in the first harvest: "You don't have time to be scared," Matthews said.
The second gator dove after they'd hooked him, so they got a hand line in him. After a fight, they started moving him to the boat. Since Matthews' 7-foot rod was broken in the battle, he was the one to fire the crossbow. Then Haywood handed off his rod and got the bang stick.
"The only other thing that's ever gotten me pumped up as much as this is bear hunting with dogs - having a 500-pound bear 5 feet in front of you. And I've got Brett wanting to do that now," Haywood said.
The stories, the laughs and the memories of their gator hunt have had an odd effect on friends who hear them.
"People that thought we were crazy before we went, now they want to go do it," Haywood said.
"They've heard the stories, they've heard about how me and Brett carried on back and forth while we fought the gators, having so much fun, and now they want to jump on the bandwagon."
They have an unforgettable story to tell. And they'll soon have the full-body mounts to prove it. And maybe there's no better bonding than taking down a monstrous relic who could easily snap your femur in half.
Could be great - but I still think they're crazy.
Staff writer Monica Holland can be reached at hollandm@fayobserver.com.
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Area hunter bags an alligator
Written by James H. Phillips
Wednesday, 22 April 2009 10:45
Goshen attorney John Ulmer explains his reptilian adventure this way:
His wife, Carol, was planning a winter vacation in Florida. It called for them to spend several weeks in Bonita Beach, a town on the lower Gulf Coast that Ulmer described as consisting solely of “traffic, condos and shopping centers.”
It is not a milieu designed to attract outdoorsmen.
“I had to do something,” related the veteran big-game hunter.
His eye caught a magazine advertisement for Central Florida Trophy Hunts, an outfit based in Cocoa. It featured alligator hunts. He made a phone call.
It is why Ulmer recently found himself driving across Florida, momentarily escaping the traffic, condos and shopping centers. (Ulmer, who has hunted big game on five continents, prefers to shop at the annual Safari Club convention in Reno, Nev., where various outfitters, custom arms dealers and so on set up display booths.)
Prior to this time, Ulmer had never entertained the idea of hunting alligators. A few decades ago Florida’s alligators had declined to the point some feared for their survival. But protective legislation produced a population explosion.
Today, Florida’s alligators are crawling up on lawns and snatching Grandma from her flower garden. They are devouring pet dogs romping in their backyards. Waterfowl hunters in particular tell horrible tales of losing Labrador retrievers swimming out to fetch downed ducks.
The toothy reptiles have become a deadly menace.
In an effort to keep the population in check, Florida has instituted an alligator hunting season. It also issues permits to private landowners to kill alligators on their property outside of the hunting season.
Ulmer hunted under a private land-owner permit.
Ulmer met his guide, Grayson Padrick, in mid-afternoon near Vero Beach. Padrick is a mechanical engineer who guides part-time and works full-time for NASA at Cape Canaveral.
The two headed out into citrus country, the flat landscape north of Lake Okeechobee that features “thousands upon thousands of acres of citrus trees,” Ulmer related.
Their destination focused on a grove adjacent to a reservoir that featured a network of canals. As Padrick explained, “This is a new property to us that has a ton of alligators.”
“We will start the hunt by riding around the reservoir and looking for ‘gators to shoot,” Padrick said. The law allows hunters to use high-powered rifles only during daylight hours.
“If by dark we have not killed one we will put the boat in the water and hunt with crossbows,” he continued. “I imagine that we will be done before dark.”
They arrived at the property, detached their trailered airboat and sighted in a .270 rifle. Then they began slowly driving along a canal.
Along the way they encountered a hunter with a compound bow. The hunter was wrestling to shore a protesting alligator attached to a line attached to an arrow. (He had earlier missed 10 or 11 gators.) The event was being filmed for television.
As they drove along they saw “several 3-, 4- and 5-foot alligators.” Some were snoozing on the sun-drenched bank. Others were floating motionless on the surface of the water, only their nose and eyes visible.
Some of the small gators ignored the pick-up. Others raced down the bank into the water or, if already in the water, quickly submerged, he added.
Then suddenly they glimpsed a big gator sunning itself on the opposite bank. Padrick stepped on the brakes, then backed up until they were out of sight. The two got out and made their approach. Ulmer gripped his .270.
Padrick earlier had stressed the necessity for a brain shot to provide an instant kill and prevent the ‘gator from escaping, explaining that the bullet should strike the ‘gator two or three inches behind its eye.
When they again came within view of the ‘gator, Ulmer sat down on the ground to brace his rifle. Padrick had an optical range-finder. He informed Ulmer the reptile was 70 to 75 yards distant.
Ulmer took careful aim behind its eye.
“I pulled the trigger,” he said.
The rifle bucked with recoil. A sharp boom shattered the silence of the citrus grove.
“The ‘gator didn’t move.”
The shot proved to be an instant kill.
The reptile measured 8 feet, 2 inches in length. Its hide is now being tanned.
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By Tony Judnich
8-17-2007
Staff writer
The tools of the trade for Grayson Padrick include a spotlight, harpoon, electrical tape and a device known as a bang stick.
Mr. Padrick co-owns Central Florida Trophy Hunts in Cocoa. In his two decades of hunting experience, he has seen plenty of gnashing teeth and whipping tails of alligators fighting for their lives on the end of a line.
The excitement of such battles never fades for Mr. Padrick, who is gearing up for this year's statewide alligator hunt.
"Gator hunting is not your average hunting sport," he said. "You don't sit in a tree stand and wait for the animal to come to you."
Gator hunting is always fast-paced, Mr. Padrick said.
"You have a gator on the end of the rope that essentially wants to bite you," he said. "You have to pull it up to you, and you do it in its element. It's all done at night, so that adds an element of excitement."
Many people want to share such thrills: the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission has sold out of more than 4,700 gator-hunting permits for the statewide hunt, which began Aug. 15 and ends Nov. 1.
Permits were available on a first-come, first-serve basis and most were sold to Florida residents, said FWC spokeswoman Joy Hill.
She said there are about one million alligators in Florida.
"That number is based on the available habitat for them," she said. "(Gator hunting) is one of our wildlife management tools."
Each permit costs $62 and a license to use the permit costs $272 for state residents and $1,022 for non-residents.
For an additional fee of $51.50, people can use an alligator-trapping agent or licensed trapper to guide them on the hunt. Such guides also offer specialized hunting packages.
During the statewide hunt, hunters can kill two non-hatchling gators, or those that are greater than about 18 inches long, per permit.
"Most people aren't worried about the little gators," Ms. Hill said. "They want to get a gator of some size."
Hunters can harvest the gators from designated harvest units, such as Lake Poinsett and Lake Hell 'N Blazes in western Brevard County.
The alligators can be killed by various means, such as with a harpoon, crossbow, bow and arrow, or spear gun. A bang stick, which is a device that discharges a bullet into an alligator's head, can be used once the gator has been captured.
Hunting is allowed from a half-hour before sunset to a half-hour after sunrise.
Mindy Padrick, Mr. Padrick's wife and business partner, said she and her husband will guide many hunters during this year's hunt. During last year's hunt, the couple guided people on trips that involved the killing of 236 gators, mostly in Brevard County.
Mrs. Padrick said she helped kill about 160 of those gators. The largest - a 12-foot-9-inch alligator from Seminole County's Lake Jesup - was killed by Mr. Padrick.
"That one took up almost the whole back of the truck bed," Mrs. Padrick said.
She and her husband begin a gator hunt by flashing a light from an airboat across a body of water, searching for a gator's eyes that look red at night.
Once a gator is spotted, a harpoon or crossbow is used to shoot the alligator. A rod and wheel with a thick cable and a snatch hook is used to help snag and reel in the thrashing gator.
A bang stick delivers a shot to the gator's brain and electrical tape is wrapped around its jaw.
Before being hauled on board, the alligator's spine is cut with a knife to "make sure he is, in fact, dead," Mr. Padrick said.
Each hunt is a blast, Mrs. Padrick said.
"It's like a different world out there," she said of gator territory.
Ms. Hill said besides enjoying the excitement, many people hunt gators for their meat and hides. The meat sells for about $4-$6 per pound.
"Some folks keep the meat and the hides for themselves," Ms. Hill said. "Others sell it to buyers and others sell the entire alligator to a processing facility. The tail is generally considered the prime piece, but all of the meat is usable."
A gator's "white meat has a fine, light-grained texture that many people compare favorably to pork and chicken," according to the Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Service's Web site, located at www.fl-seafood.com/species/alligator.htm.
"It is kind of like chicken, and the texture is like chicken," said Terri Tucker, the office manager of Clayton's Crab Co. in Rockledge.
She said Clayton's sells frozen gator meat, which comes from various parts of alligators and is very popular in the summertime, when many people are grilling and having picnics.
An alligator's hide doesn't go to waste, either. Ms. Hill said the hide can be used for various leather products and novelty items, such as key chains. Some tourist shops sell alligator skulls as souvenirs.
Alligator products in Florida earned net sales of more than $4 million in 2005, the latest statistics available, according to the state Web site.
Mrs. Padrick said many hunters make a head mount or rug mount with the alligator they killed.
"We've had people come down just to hunt small gators to make alligator boots," she said.
The Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission has sold more than 4,700 permits for the statewide alligator hunt, which began Aug. 15 and ends Nov. 1.
Hunters can kill two gators per permit and can harvest them from designated harvest units. For example, more than 400 permits were sold for hunting gators in Lake Poinsett, and more than 100 were sold for hunting gators in Lake Hell 'N Blazes. These lakes are in western Brevard County.
The FWC sold 4,406 gator-hunting permits for last year's hunt, during which 6,419 alligators were killed. The average gator killed measured 8-and-a-half feet long.
The alligators harvested last year included 151 from Lake Hell 'N Blazes, which connects to the St. Johns River. The average gator taken from this lake last year was 8-feet-1-inch long.
- Source: Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission
Contact Tony Judnich at (321) 751-5954 or Judnich@hometownnewsol.com.