One of my favorite pit stops whenever Gordy and I visited Florida was Tarpon Zoo, now long out of business. Located in Tarpon Springs, about mid-distance between the Everglades and the Georgia state line on the Gulf side of Florida, Trudie, Mike, and George specialized in neotropical mammals, birds, and herps. Although they billed themselves as a zoo, the facility was actually a wildlife dealership that stocked everything from tapirs and macaws to Suriname toads, anacondas, bushmasters, and black caiman.



In fact, it was at Tarpon Zoo that I first saw and became enamored of baby black caiman, the most alligator-looking and by far the largest of the several caiman species. But the baby black caiman, with their yellowish faces and dark mandibular blotches, were even cuter than a baby alligator.

With only a mention that over the years black caiman have become a species rarely seen in both private and zoo collections in the United States, I'll fast forward about 60 years to 2015. On our winter Amazonian ecotour of 2015, I had made the sighting of a baby black caiman one of our top priorities.

And as luck would have it, crocodilian expert Flavio and a few sidekicks accompanied us on that trip. I explained to Flavio that over the years several adults of the species had surfaced next to our boats as we searched after dark for anurans, but despite several tries to find a baby at a known "nursery" locale, we had failed.

Flavio and others took on the challenge.

Edwin, one of our Peruvian guides, scouted out the easiest and best way to get through the varzea to the nursery pond. The route involved an arduous trek, kayaking, then portaging the craft, then more kayaking, all the while circumnavigating rainforest treefalls.

And it was thanks to these Herculean efforts on the parts of others that I, over sixty years after first seeing baby black caiman in captivity, got to see a couple of dozen babies of this coveted taxon in the wild.

Life is good.