Tales from da Swamp
Part 2 Mysterious Gator Attack
A series of short stories and first-hand recollections of hair-raising moments from da Swamp.
Years ago, on a cold winter morning, me and my lab Buddy headed
out to our duck hole in Sherburne WMA. It was a full moon and the visibility in
the swamp was good that morning. This year was a dry year, with the water being
low our honey hole was mostly mud. As I finished setting out my duck decoys I started
making my way towards my hiding spot when I noticed the unmistakable ridges on
the back of an alligator. The head was not visible at first just the plates on
his back sticking up out the mud.
With my paddle I splashed water on him, the gator didn’t move.
I banged a cypress stump right next to him, the gator didn’t move. I figured
he was dead, why else would he be stuck in the mud.
The sun was coming up and I had to get ready for the fast
flying wood ducks that would soon come in. I pushed my canoe past the gator and
set up in the brush about 10 feet away. Soon after I shot the first duck of the
day which Buddy quickly retrieved running right near the gator in the mud. It
was a great day to duck hunt, the grey ducks came in flock after flock. A few
quacks from the duck call and they circled in range of my 12 gauge. Buddy would
have to run in the mud jump over the gator at the water’s edge to retrieve the
ducks, he even stopped to smell him a few times.
After making the last retrieve of the day, I dragged the
canoe out of the bushes and made my way through the sloppy swamp mud. With Buddy
next to me with his nose down he sniffed and pushed on the gator, with lighting
fast speed the gator rose up hissing and snapped at Buddy. With my shotgun
pointing towards the gator I yelled at Buddy to get back. Just as soon as I yelled the gator put his
head back down in the mud and never moved again.
PHOTOGRAPH BY GEOFF WALSH |
The next morning, we went back to the same spot and there
was no sign of the gator until the sun came up. To the right of our honey hole
was a willow tree coming out the water at an angle. Spread out a few feet above
the water was the remains of the mysterious gator. Head still attached the body
cavity was open and eaten out. Something dragged it across the mud, up the tree
and ate most of it. Swamp cat? Maybe a Rougarou. My guess would be a large
freshwater otter attacked the cold-blooded gator while he couldn’t move and had
him for dinner.
Maybe it was the rougarou, or just another day in da Swamp.