Farmers in Australia, supplying
material for the hot fashion item, get creative to move reptiles across the
Outback
A saltwater crocodile in
Australia. PHOTO: EVOLVE/PHOTOSHOT/ZUMA PRESS
By Rob Taylor-Wall Street
Journal, 3/23/18
SAVAGES ISLAND, Australia—In his
latest attempt to satisfy the world’s snappiest dressers, Adam Lever recently
found himself coaxing yard-long live crocodiles into “travel pods” made of
pipes purchased from a plumbing shop. Mr. Lever needed to move the crocodiles
without getting a scratch—on them.
The PVC pipes are the latest
tactic in a man-versus-beast conflict that affects millions of dollars worth of
goods in the global fashion industry. Damaged crocodile skins aren’t worth
nearly as much when turned into boots and handbags—which can easily run
$50,000. By placing thousands of juvenile saltwater crocodiles in the
refrigerated tubes, Mr. Lever says he can safely move them vast distances
across the Outback from far-flung hatcheries to his farm.
“A scratch on a croc is a massive
thing,” said Mr. Lever, estimating even one could lower a skin’s value by up to
40%. “You wouldn’t be happy if you just paid a million bucks for a Ferrari and
it had a scratch in the paint and a flat tire.”
A crocodile Birkin bag
The crocodile skin business is
booming, with especially strong demand from Asia, and Australia’s crocs are
coveted for their particularly fine skin patterns—American alligators tend to
have horny backs—and because more of the hide can be used.
The animals are both culturally
significant and an important income source for indigenous communities in the
Outback, who collect the eggs by hand from swamps and incubate them until
they’re hatched. Then, the juvenile reptiles are sold to farmers like Mr.
Lever, who transport them to farms in less remote areas where they grow for a
couple of years before the skins are harvested. A farmer can sell a high-end
skin for about $1,000, while an egg can be worth about $35 to a collector.
(Farmers also sell the meat, for food, and things such as claws and gall
bladders for alternative medicines.)
Farmer John Lever adjusts a ‘croc
pod’ used to transport the young saltwater crocodiles he raises for skins near
Rockhampton, in Australia.
PHOTO: ROB TAYLOR/THE WALL STREET
JOURNAL
Eventually the supply chain leads
to the catwalks of Paris or the boutiques of New York, where it’s common for a
customer to wait up to two years for a popular style. In 2016, an Hermès Birkin
bag made of albino Nile River crocodile skin and encrusted with 245 diamonds
set in white gold sold at auction for an eye-popping US$300,168 to a Hong Kong
buyer, the most expensive ever. It was similar to one owned by Kim Kardashian.
To fetch and move animals with as
many as 72 razor-sharp teeth and a notoriously bad attitude, farmers get
creative. Saltwater crocodiles, which can grow to 22 feet long and weigh 2,200
pounds, are among the world’s largest ambush predators, using their teeth and
strong jaws to clamp down on prey.
“Sometimes we collect eggs and
the mother comes back. We hit her on the nose to make her go away,” says Otto
Campion Bulmaniya, of the Arafura Swamp Ranger Aboriginal Corp. “Or sometimes
we stay and talk with her, to make her calm down.”
Government regulations promote
Outback collection of eggs to spread the economic benefits of the industry and
support biodiversity, while at the same time impose quotas to protect the species.
One innovation in egg collecting
is slinging someone into a wild crocodile nest from a helicopter to spare a
heart-stopping walk through swamp and reeds. “Up here it’s like a little bit of
Alaska. There are still freedoms,” said Grahame Webb, an expert in crocodile
behavior who now runs the Crocodylus wildlife park and skin farm in Darwin.
Crocodiles at the Crocodylus
wildlife park and skin farm in Darwin run by Grahame Webb. PHOTO: ROB
TAYLOR/THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
Still, collectors must keep on
the right side of the health and safety bureaucracy. The 73-year-old lamented a
recent government directive for egg collectors to wear steel-capped boots as
protection against bites. “Let me tell you, if an adult croc comes back the
thing to do is run or get up a tree,” Mr. Webb said. “I find steel boots aren’t
the best for climbing.”
At Ramingining, in a remote part
of the Northern Territory, indigenous rangers pressed an old, out-of-order
fridge into service as a temperature-regulating incubator, together with used
aquarium equipment and a thermometer. To avoid overheating in the sweltering
monsoon heat, they simply propped open the fridge door with a stick, said Mr.
Bulmaniya.
Hatchlings were transferred into
two large plastic “grow” bins, each holding 40 or so foot-long crocodiles until
they were ready to transport. With the industry booming, Mr. Bulmaniya is
planning a commercially sized hatchery able to hold almost 1,000 crocodiles in
22 bins, for completion later this year.
Australia accounts for 60% of the
trade in saltwater skins, worth US$78 million a year in a global crocodile and
alligator fashion sector worth up to US$1 billion, according to the Crocodile
Farmers Association of the Northern Territory.
Australia’s edge over rivals in
Asia and South America is cemented by its status as one of a few nations
allowed to export saltwater crocodile skins into the U.S. under treaties
safeguarding endangered wildlife. Wild saltwater crocodile numbers have
recovered strongly since protection in the 1980s.
Some farmers move developing
crocodiles in the egg, but rough Outback roads make that a fraught process. One
bump can destroy an embryo. Moving live crocs presents other, sharp problems.
John Lever, Adam Lever’s father,
once opened a truck with 200 juvenile crocodiles inside to find some had
loosened themselves from restraining ties on their jaws. “They are pretty good
escapists, and even a small one can do some serious damage,” said Mr. Lever,
who runs a farm with his son on a low scrub spit known as Savages Island,
ringed by mud flats near the southern edge of the Great Barrier Reef.
John Lever at home. PHOTO: ROB
TAYLOR/THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
Employee Tiffany Smith at
Vervain, a crocodile product shop in Darwin. PHOTO: ROB TAYLOR/THE WALL STREET
JOURNAL
That’s where the croc pods come
in. While plumbing pipes have been used before to move hatched crocodiles, Mr.
Lever’s Koorana Crocodile farm near Rockhampton said it was the first to
construct a cluster of pipes to create a “pod.”
Each pod cluster holds between 60
and 130 crocodiles, in ventilated tubes built onto a pallet and loaded into a
refrigerated truck. By lowering the temperature to around 64 degrees, the baby
crocs become drowsy and less bellicose over a journey lasting up to a week.
Once in their new homes, the pods
are removed from the truck by forklift and placed into a farm pen before a
sliding-door lid is opened, allowing the crocs to slowly warm up in the
tropical air.
“You open up the pods and you’ve
got 70 pairs of crocodile eyes staring at you,” Adam Lever said. “For a
heart-stopping moment you’re hoping like hell that the refrigeration worked and
they don’t come rushing out in a waterfall of crocs.”
That’s happened a couple of
times, he said, and “you have to move fast.”