Snakes and other reptiles in Mexico – Part II
One swings the lasso, the next takes over if the first throw misses, and a third, armed with a stick, stands guard to ensure the crocodile doesn’t get too close. We intend to catch it, certainly, but contact should only occur on our terms – when it is safe for both human and animal.
That might sound sarcastic; after all, a crocodile is always dangerous. Yes, absolutely. But even these animals can be handled with varying degrees of risk. Since we are currently in Mexico, Michael decided it was the perfect place to learn something new. By chance, he stumbled upon a crocodile-handling course. And, well, why not give it a go?
Even the tamest of animals can be dangerous depending on the situation. With these massive reptiles, the peril is staring you right in the face. Since Michael had already caught small caimans by hand in Bolivia, we now want to learn how the larger specimens are managed using proper equipment.
A Star of Herpetology
That’s how we meet Jerónimo, a sturdy man with long hair tied in a ponytail and crocodile teeth around his neck. Together with his crew, he leads the NGO Comaffas. It all began with crocodiles, but they have since become established experts in handling reptiles, running a rescue centre for all manner of species: snakes, lizards, macaws, anteaters, kinkajous – essentially anything in need of help.
Most animals are released back into the wild as soon as they are healthy and capable of survival. Some must stay forever. Take the American Crocodile Canelo, who suffered a broken jaw due to mistreatment; he can no longer open his mouth further than 10 cm and is therefore unable to hunt. Some birds had their wings clipped; for them, freedom would mean certain and immediate death. Or some animals have been imported and are not endemic to the nature, thus can not be set free.
Jeronimo began his career as a biologist counting crocodiles. It is partly thanks to his analyses that protected areas were established and laws passed to safeguard wild populations. It may sound cynical, but the fact that crocodiles can be kept legally on farms for meat and leather production has actually aided wild stocks. These farms are only permitted to operate as long as a minimum population thrives in the wild. Consequently, poaching has plummeted, and species like the Morelet’s crocodile have been removed from the Red List of threatened species.
Three crocodile species in Mexico
Mexico is home to three species. Firstly, the true crocodilians: the Morelet’s and the American crocodile (Crocodylus moreletii and acutus), which inhabit brackish and fresh water. Secondly, a native caiman, the Spectacled caiman from Chiapas (Caiman crocodylus chiapasius), found in lakes and rivers. All three can only be found together in the state of Chiapas, in southern Mexico.
As long as a crocodile is small enough, you grab it with a firm grip directly by the neck. The snout is then secured with electrical tape. The animal can still breathe but can no longer snap. The primary danger is thus neutralised—even a small one can take off a finger. Once secured, study data is recorded: size, weight, sex. In the wild, they are also marked for identification.
Here at the rescue centre, we take the opportunity to clean the enclosures and fill them with fresh water. Blood samples are taken from some crocodiles. To keep stress levels as low as possible, this happens less often than you might think—usually only once a year.
Crocodile vs. Caiman? Learn the difference:
- Snout: Crocodiles have a V-shaped (pointed) snout, whereas caimans have a U-shaped (broad) snout.
- Teeth: In crocodiles, the fourth lower tooth is visible on the outside when the mouth is closed. In caimans, the lower teeth are hidden.
- Water: Crocodiles can tolerate salt water thanks to special salt glands; caimans are dependent on fresh water.
A shunt heart
To further reduce stress, we place a cloth over their eyes. When they cannot see, their entire system shuts down. In this instinctive survival mode, they power down their metabolism—one of many tactics these masters of adaptation have perfected over 200 million years. One of the anatomical wonders is the actively controlled Foramen of Panizza in the right ventricle of the heart. Under water, they can close this valve, preventing blood from being shunted to the lungs. Deoxygenated blood bypasses the lungs and flows directly back into the systemic circulation and to the stomach. This not only allows them to dive for longer but also aids digestion due to the more acidic blood.
Teamwork or couple’s therapy?
With large crocodiles, two hands are no longer enough. This is where lassoing and precise teamwork come into play. From a distance, ropes are used to hold the jaws shut. Crocodiles possess immense biting power, yet they have almost no muscle strength to open their mouths against resistance.
It takes practice to hit the mark, but it works. Then we haul it onto land, where two people secure it. The approach starts at the tail and moves toward the head; you then pin the front legs with your knees and apply pressure to the back without sitting fully on it. A second person does the same with the hind legs.
The skin feels like cool, embossed leather—firm, dry, and surprisingly clean. Once secured, measurements are taken. To weigh the animal, it is trussed up; though it looks barbaric, it is for the safety of everyone involved. Once everything is done, we release it back into the enclosure. This is one of the most dangerous moments.
Despite the knotting technique, a residual risk remains: the crocodile feels the moment the restraints fall and fights back. Michael ends the day with grazed hands from his rodeo ride on the reptile. Our two American crocodile specimens weighed about 80 kg and were over 2.5 metres long; four people were needed to lift them. The largest specimen, Argos, at over 4 metres, would easily push eight people to their limits. We’ll leave that one for another time!
After two days, we say our goodbyes with grazed knees and bruised legs, but proudly holding our certificates as official “crocodile handling experts” in Mexico in our (mostly) intact hands.
In Search of the Dragoncito
From the heat of Chiapas, we head up into the cool mountains of Mexico. We are searching for a rare reptile, a little dragon—Dragoncito in Spanish. This arboreal lizard is the exact opposite of the crocodile: a relaxed, sluggish species with magnificent colours. There are no giant maws here that could devour us. Its only defence is its perfect camouflage.
A scavenger hunt through the cold cloud forest begins—including a sudden cold snap. Not exactly ideal conditions for finding cold-blooded animals. In the area around Zacatlán, there are few foreign tourists. Yet, at the end of an adventurous mountain drive, we find a place to stay. In a mountain restaurant, the abuela serves warm tortilla soup, and the campsite offers the luxury of a wood-fired hot shower. At nearly 3°C, it is a godsend.
As Swiss tourists, we are quite the sensation—we look like fish out of water. Furthermore, it’s not just our feet freezing; we are effectively trapped. The country is in a state of emergency: there are road blocks due to the death of the cartel boss of the Jalisco Nueva Generación. However, the local lads are undeterred and help us search for the Dragoncito.
The genus Abronia
The genus Abronia is endemic to Mexico and critically endangered. Their habitat is shrinking steadily, and because of their brilliant blue and green-yellow colours, they are sadly coveted collectors’ items. On top of that, they are completely harmless—and, to be honest, rather sweet. Easy prey.
And then, among the mist, the boys actually spot a specimen. Its scales shimmer with a turquoise green and yellow that looks almost artificial.
It is fascinating: while we worked drenched in sweat and adrenaline during the crocodile handling, searching for the Dragoncito requires an almost meditative patience.
We observe the creature for a while. It moves with a swaying motion, inching forward slowly. By doing so, it imitates a leaf in the wind—a marvellous bit of camouflage. These lizards are viviparous; an adaptation to the cold of the highland forests, where eggs in the ground would simply freeze. It is a specialised niche that offered them protection for millennia but now leaves them extremely vulnerable. If their patch of forest is cleared, they cannot simply move house.
We stay until our fingers are numb with the cold. But the lads have a solution for that, too: the wood fire for the hot water is already roaring.
The boys from the village are beaming with pride at having shown us their dragon. For them, it is merely a part of daily life, a treasure whose true value they perhaps don’t quite realise; for us, it is a rare glimpse into a world hanging by a thread.
The following morning, we begin our journey back. The roadblocks have cleared, and the highland mist is left behind in our wake. What remains is the stark contrast: we can still feel the raw muscle of the lowland crocodiles in our bones, while our cameras carry the images of the fragile Abronias from the cloud forests.
Mexico has shown us its very best: the formidable power of the crocodiles, rare and colourful lizards, cave-dwelling snakes that hunt bats, and even hitchhiking rattlesnakes. And yet, there are still so many more species waiting to be found in this country.
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