Sports

Column: Hurricanes and gators don't mix

Thursday, October 2, 2008 10:14 AM EDT

The lack of columns lately is a sure sign I've been having some adventurous times. A month ago I was in Arctic Alaska and intended to do several columns on this trip. Things don't always go as planned, though. I operate a Red Cross Emergency Response Vehicle, known as an ERV by the acronym loving Red Cross. They must have had a spy staking out my house for I'd hardly unpacked my Arctic gear when they stuffed me onto a Louisiana bound plane to run an ERV in on the heels of hurricane Gustav while dodging Ike in the process. In less than a week I had time warped the full length of North America from the Arctic Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico.

While Ike was having its way with Texas my assigned mission was to run food, water and, later, cleaning supplies to the folks hunkered down in the Cajun bayou country along the Central Louisiana coast. About eighty of us Red Cross folks moved into a Southern Baptist Church in Lafayette. We slept coed on cots in a meeting hall and meals were cooked on propane stoves in the parking lot by the gracious Baptist folks. There were many trials getting into the coastal bayou country because of flooding. Local fire and law enforcement officials as well as prowling Red Cross Disaster Assessment people telephoned us the moment another road became passable and we followed the slowly receding waters with our lumbering, food laden ERVs.

On one such run to a place called Pecan Island I heard rumors that a dirt road wandering off into the remote reaches of the bayou might be passable as soon as they could get the bridge fixed. I drove around the barricades and set out to check on progress. Barely a mile along I was dumbfounded to see a big alligator laying belly up dead on the edge of the road. "Hmmm, odd." Then there was another smaller one and soon after another, all dead as a doornail. I reached the bridge to find the crew had just finished repairs and they allowed the ERV would be a fitting test to check their work. Before playing guinea pig I asked them what was up with all the dead alligators in the road. "Saltwater kills 'em," one mud encrusted worker said. He went on to say the 'gators congregated on the road because it was the last dry land where they could get out of the salty storm surge. When the road finally flooded over there was nowhere else to go so there they stood and met their fate. I know alligators can tolerate some brackish water but apparently they can't stand full scale ocean salt. The guy didn't know just why they died but he said their eyes turned blue before they perished. Perhaps the salt blinds them and they can't see to function? Some brief Internet surfing didn't shed any light on this. There were similar reports from other ERV drivers. Several also encountered roads jammed with live alligators and snakes. One driver reported snakes so thick he couldn't avoid running over several. Passing the bridge test and continuing down the road I saw many more dead 'gators as well as a few live ones.

In nature's way, though, one creature's demise is another's bounty. Vultures, sea gulls and crows were having the feast of their lives. Immense numbers of wading birds gathered for the bonanza of crustaceans and insects churned up by the wind whipped floodwaters. Terns, snowy, common and giant egrets, blue herons, roseate spoonbills, rails, gallinules and a variety of sandpipers big and small crowded into the shallow pools and perched on every stick and hummock dry enough to be called a perch. It was a bird watcher's paradise and a sight to behold. It was also a classic nature lesson. Amidst the devastation, misery and death of some life flourished for others. Carpe diem.

Larry Lyons writes a weekly outdoor column for Leader Publications. He can be reached at larrylyons@verizon.net

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