THE GREAT GATOR HUNT
The First Hunt
Editor's Note: I can’t think of anything more
exciting than hunting big bull aggressive alligators
with a bow. This week I’ll take you with me on
a thrilling alligator hunt. Alligator hunting is primarily
a southern sport since gators don’t do well in
snow. Because regulations vary from state to state on
seasons, bag limits and equipment you can use, always
check the laws in the state where you plan to hunt.
Before I went to Florida to hunt gators, I studied
them and I learned . . .
* the name alligator came from the Spanish word, el
largato, meaning the lizard and
* the southeastern United States and eastern China laid
claim to the only places in the world where crocodilians
of the genus Alligator lived.
When Mike Waller of Birmingham, Alabama, and I arrived
at Panama  City,
we met Groom and followed him to a swampy area in the
Florida Panhandle. At the boat ramp that night, I first
met John Tadlock and Eugene Wheeler, both professional
gator hunters and our guides for the evening's hunt.
"Let's take two boats," Tadlock said. "Then
we can keep the gator out in the open where we can get
a shot." Groom, Tadlock and I got in a 12-foot
skiff while Waller and Wheeler launched the second craft.
Tadlock announced he had a test gator downriver about
8- or 9-feet long. "I thought we'd go to that gator
first and attempt to call it out to the middle of the
river. Then you guys can see what a hunt will be like.
"John, you can shoot the flash on your camera and
see what the gator will do when you try and photograph
it. Ronnie, you can stand up in the boat, prepare for
the shot and get an idea about what's going to happen
if we get a big gator to come in to us." Groom
had decided to use a heavy fiberglass Muzzy fish arrow
with 250-pound braided wire cable attached to it and
wound around a spool on the front of his 60-pound Browning
bow. An avid bowhunter and an archery instructor for
many years, Groom felt confident he had the equipment
to deal a big gator a lethal blow and that the strong
cable could pull a large gator in to our boat. Although
Groom had taken hundreds of deer and various other species
of animals with his bow, he never had tried to bag a
gator with his bow.
 As
we motored downstream three or four miles, Tadlock finally
spotted a gator on the bank with his strong light. "Get
ready," he instructed, "and stay out of the
light. We don't want the gator to see any shadows as
it moves toward us." Tadlock gave light chirping
sounds like "Mraaaak! Mraaaak!” In the beam
from the light, I saw two mirror-like eyes swimming
toward us. I readied my camera while Groom stood on
the front of the boat and prepared to draw. When the
gator swam about 10 feet from the boat, Groom made his
draw and aimed. "If you're going to get a picture,
take it now, John," Tadlock coached. When I snapped
the picture with my 35mm camera, the 8-foot gator pulled
its head back and sunk beneath the surface. "O.K.,
now we know you can't shoot photography until after
Ronnie gets a shot at a gator with his bow," Tadlock
observed.
We went downriver and called a 9-foot gator. We tested
my flash. Groom once again went through all the motions
of a shot except actually releasing the arrow. Then
we motored to a backwater area off the main river where
Tadlock spotted the biggest gator yet. As Tadlock continued
to call, the wide-eyed gator that had pushed the tree
limb under the water came for our boat. "Get ready
to shoot that gator, Ronnie," Tadlock said. "I
think this is the one we want." As Groom stood
up in the boat, I only could see two eyes and a chin
coming straight at us. When the gator got closer, I
realized from its tail that this bull gator was at least
10-feet long or more. Once 8 feet from the boat, the
gargantuan gator turned sideways. I was horrified at
the size of the reptile.
"Take the shot, Ronnie," Tadlock whispered
urgently from the back of  the
boat. Groom stood at full draw and aimed straight for
the huge gator's neck. But when he released the arrow,
I watched the arrow travel about 6 feet, stop and fall
in the water. The Goliath-sized gator pulled its head
back and dove for the bottom. When I asked Groom what
happened to his perfect shot, he explained disappointedly
that, "the cable tightened down around the spool
on the front of the bow. It didn't peel off like string
would have. I can't believe the arrow stopped, and we
didn't get the gator. That's the biggest alligator I've
ever seen." I worried aloud, "That gator's
larger than the boat. What will we do if we shoot something
that big?" Tadlock observed, "That alligator's
well over 10-feet long, probably 12 to 13 feet, and
will weigh well over 500 pounds. I've never seen a gator
that big before."
"Will we get another chance at the gator?"
I questioned with hope in my voice. "It's doubtful,"
Tadlock said. Disappointment swept over our small crafts
like a plague on the old sailing ships. We all felt
we'd blown a chance of a lifetime. But Tadlock suggested
we go downriver and see if we could find another gator.
"Then we'll come back to this lizard in about an
hour and try and call him again." As we continued
to hunt, we didn't locate another alligator. In an hour,
we returned to the large, fallen tree where we first
had seen the enormous bull gator.
TOMORROW: WAR WITH THE GATOR
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