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Yomiuri Shimbun
2 days ago
- General
- Yomiuri Shimbun
The Last-ditch Race to Save the Orinoco Crocodile
Reuters An Orinoco crocodile is seen at the Masaguaral Ranch, a captive breeding center near Tamarindito. Photos were taken in Venezuela, between April 21 and 24. CAPANAPARO, Venezuela (Reuters) — Venezuelan biologist Carlos Alvarado, 34, has one hand on the young crocodile's neck and another on its tail. With the help of some tape and calipers, he is measuring it, tracking its growth a few days before it will be released into the wild. Alvarado's story — and that of the Orinoco crocodile he is caring for — is a tale of hope and persistence in the face of overwhelming odds. Reuters The eye of an Orinoco crocodile before its release into the wild at the Capanaparo River Fewer than 100 Orinoco crocodiles — one of the largest living reptiles in the world — remain in the wild, according to Venezuelan conservation foundation FUDECI. The animal's natural habitat is in the Orinoco River basin, which covers most of Venezuela and spills into Colombia. For decades, the men and women of the Venezuelan Crocodile Specialist Group have been raising younglings of the critically endangered species in captivity in a race against time to avoid its extinction. Reuters Orinoco crocodile eggs are seen in a hatching area at the Leslie Pantin Zoo. But they say they are losing that race. Decades of poaching for leather pushed the Orinoco crocodile to the brink, and now struggling Venezuelans who hunt the animals for meat and take their eggs for food threaten to deal the final blow. The members of the Crocodile Specialist Group are not getting any younger — and the next generation of biologists has mostly fled turmoil in Venezuela for jobs elsewhere. Alvarado remains alone to take up the baton. It is, he says, 'a great responsibility.' He has a sense of mission. He is trying to persuade university students to take part in the conservation effort. Federico Pantin, 59, is not optimistic. He is director of the Leslie Pantin Zoo in Turmero, near Caracas, which specializes in endangered species and is one of the places where the crocodile hatchlings are raised. 'We're only delaying the Orinoco's extinction,' he says. Reuters Alvaro Velasco shows a tattoo of an Orinoco crocodile on his shoulder, at the Terepaima Ranch near Elorza. Pantin and his colleagues keep on going, however — researching, measuring, transporting. The scientists log the sites where the long-snouted Orinoco are known to nest, collecting their eggs or hatchlings. They also breed captive adults kept at the zoo and at Masaguaral Ranch, a biodiversity center and cattle farm near Tamarindito in central Venezuela. The scientists raise the babies, feeding them a diet of chicken, beef and vitamins until they are about a year old and grow to a weight of around 6 kilograms. Adult Orinocos can reach over 5 meters in length, and can live for decades — a 70-year-old named Picopando resides at Masaguaral Ranch. The adults have tough, bony armor, fierce jaws and sharp teeth. They are not to be trifled with. Reuters A small museum at the Masaguaral Ranch But when they are first hatched, a researcher can cradle one in their hands. Omar Hernandez, 63, biologist and head of FUDECI, tags the tiny foot of a hatchling at the Leslie Pantin Zoo. To save the species, a number of efforts would be necessary, he says: research, protection, education and management. 'We are doing the management, collecting the hatchlings, raising them for a year and freeing them,' he says. But 'that is practically the only thing being done. And it is not being done at scale.' Every year the group releases around 200 young crocs into the wild. Reuters 203 Orinoco crocodile hatchlings raised in captivity before their release into the wild at the Capanaparo River The biologists wait until they are a year old, as that is the most critical period in their life, Hernandez says. It is when they are young that 'almost all are hunted.' In April, Reuters accompanied the scientists as they released this year's batch. The young animals were placed in crates, their jaws bound, for the journey from the zoo to the Capanaparo River, deep in western Venezuela not far from the Colombian border, where human habitations are few and far between. This part of the river passes through private land, reducing the likelihood that the animals will immediately be hunted. Alvaro Velasco, 66, who has a tattoo of an Orinoco crocodile on his right shoulder, covered the eyes of a juvenile with tape to avoid it becoming stressed during the journey. 'People ask me, 'Why crocodiles? They're ugly,'' said Velasco, president of the Crocodile Specialist Group. 'To me, they're fabulous animals. You release them and they stay there, looking at you, as if to say 'What am I supposed to do in this huge river?' And then they swim off.' Reuters Omar Hernandez carries an Orinoco crocodile hatchling raised in captivity before its release into the wild at the Capanaparo River. Pickup trucks drove the scientists, crocodiles and volunteers along muddy tracks to a camp near the river, where the humans spent the night sleeping in hammocks. The next day, they gently removed the crocodiles from their crates and carried them to the river. The juveniles slid into the muddy, greenish waters. 'Maybe many of these animals are going to be killed tomorrow or the day after tomorrow because of a lack of awareness among people and of course because of hunger,' said Hernandez. He echoed Pantin's comments that ultimately the Orinoco crocodile was likely doomed. But, he said, 'we're stubborn. It's a way of delaying extinction and it's something that is in our capacity to do. If we waited for the perfect circumstances, they would never come.'
Globe and Mail
29-05-2025
- Health
- Globe and Mail
Tipping the scales
Venezuelan biologist Carlos Alvarado, 34, has one hand on the young crocodile's neck and another on its tail. With the help of some tape and calipers, he is measuring it, tracking its growth a few days before it will be released into the wild. Mr. Alvarado's story – and that of the Orinoco crocodile he is caring for – is a tale of hope and persistence in the face of overwhelming odds. Fewer than 100 Orinoco crocodiles – one of the largest living reptiles in the world – remain in the wild, according to Venezuelan conservation foundation FUDECI. The animal's natural habitat is in the Orinoco River basin, which covers most of Venezuela and spills into Colombia. For decades, the men and women of the Venezuelan Crocodile Specialist Group have been raising younglings of the critically endangered species in captivity in a race against time to avoid its extinction. But they say they are losing that race. Decades of poaching for leather pushed the Orinoco crocodile to the brink, and now struggling Venezuelans who hunt the animals for meat and take their eggs for food threaten to deal the final blow. The members of the Crocodile Specialist Group are not getting any younger - and the next generation of biologists has mostly fled turmoil in Venezuela for jobs elsewhere. Mr. Alvarado remains alone to take up the baton. It is, he says, 'a great responsibility.' He has a sense of mission. He is trying to persuade university students to take part in the conservation effort. Federico Pantin, 59, is not optimistic. He is director of the Leslie Pantin Zoo in Turmero, near Caracas, which specializes in endangered species and is one of the places where the crocodile hatchlings are raised. 'We're only delaying the Orinoco's extinction,' he says. Mr. Pantin and his colleagues keep on going, however – researching, measuring, transporting. The scientists log the sites where the long-snouted Orinoco are known to nest, collecting their eggs or hatchlings. They also breed captive adults kept at the zoo and at Masaguaral Ranch, a biodiversity centre and cattle farm near Tamarindito in central Venezuela. The scientists raise the babies, feeding them a diet of chicken, beef and vitamins until they are about a year old and grow to a weight of around six kilograms. Adult Orinocos can reach more than five metres in length, and can live for decades – a 70-year-old named Picopando lives at Masaguaral Ranch. The adults have tough, bony armour, fierce jaws and sharp teeth. They are not to be trifled with. But when they are first hatched, a researcher can cradle one in their hands. Omar Hernandez, 63, biologist and head of FUDECI, tags the tiny foot of a hatchling at the Leslie Pantin Zoo. To save the species, a number of efforts would be necessary, he says: research, protection, education, and management. 'We are doing the management, collecting the hatchlings, raising them for a year and freeing them,' he says. But 'that is practically the only thing being done. And it is not being done at scale.' Every year the group releases around 200 young crocs into the wild. The biologists wait until they are a year old as that is the most critical period in their life, Mr. Hernandez says. It is when they are young that 'almost all are hunted.' In April, Reuters accompanied the scientists as they released this year's batch. The young animals were placed in crates, their jaws bound, for the journey from the zoo to the Capanaparo River, deep in western Venezuela not far from the Colombian border, where human habitations are few and far between. This part of the river passes through private land, reducing the likelihood that the animals will immediately be hunted. Alvaro Velasco, 66, who has a tattoo of an Orinoco crocodile on his right shoulder, covered the eyes of a juvenile with tape to avoid it becoming stressed during the journey. 'People ask me, 'Why crocodiles? They're ugly,'' said Mr. Velasco, president of the Crocodile Specialist Group. 'To me, they're fabulous animals. You release them and they stay there, looking at you, as if to say 'What am I supposed to do in this huge river?' And then they swim off.' Pickup trucks drove the scientists, crocodiles and volunteers along muddy tracks to a camp near the river, where the humans spent the night sleeping in hammocks. The next day, they gently removed the crocodiles from their crates and carried them to the river. The juveniles slid into the muddy, greenish waters. 'Maybe many of these animals are going to be killed tomorrow or the day after tomorrow because of a lack of awareness among people and of course because of hunger,' said Mr. Hernandez. He echoed Mr. Pantin's comments that ultimately the Orinoco crocodile was likely doomed. But, he said, 'we're stubborn. It's a way of delaying extinction and it's something that is in our capacity to do. If we waited for the perfect circumstances, they would never come.'
Al Jazeera
20-05-2025
- General
- Al Jazeera
Photos: The last-ditch race to save the Orinoco crocodile
Venezuelan biologist Carlos Alvarado, 34, grips a young crocodile with one hand on its neck and the other on its tail. Armed with tape and callipers, he measures the animal, monitoring its growth just days before it is due to be released into the wild. Alvarado's journey – and that of the Orinoco crocodile under his care – is a testament to hope and determination amid overwhelming odds. Fewer than 100 Orinoco crocodiles, one of the world's largest living reptiles, remain in the wild, according to the Venezuelan conservation foundation FUDECI. The species' natural habitat encompasses the Orinoco River basin, which covers much of Venezuela and stretches into Colombia. For decades, members of the Venezuelan Crocodile Specialist Group have reared this critically endangered species in captivity, racing against time to prevent its extinction. Yet, they now fear they are losing the battle. Once pushed to the verge of extinction by poaching for their leather, Orinoco crocodiles now face a new threat: Desperate Venezuelans who hunt the animals for meat and harvest their eggs for food. Federico Pantin, 59, is not optimistic. He serves as director of the Leslie Pantin Zoo in Turmero, near Caracas – a facility specialising in endangered species and one of the few places where crocodile hatchlings are raised. 'We're only delaying the Orinoco's extinction,' he says. Nevertheless, Pantin and his colleagues persevere: Researching, measuring, transporting. The team records nesting sites for the long-snouted Orinoco crocodile, collecting eggs or hatchlings. They also maintain breeding programmes for adults kept at the zoo and at Masaguaral Ranch, a biodiversity centre and cattle farm near Tamarindito in central Venezuela. The young are fed chicken, beef and vitamins, reaching about 6kg (13lb) by the time they are a year old. Adult Orinocos can exceed 5 metres (16ft) in length and live for decades – a 70-year-old named Picopando resides at Masaguaral Ranch. At the Leslie Pantin Zoo, Omar Hernandez, 63, biologist and head of FUDECI, tags the foot of a hatchling. Saving the species, he says, would require multiple efforts: Research, protection, education and management. 'We are doing the management, collecting the hatchlings, raising them for a year and freeing them,' he says. But 'that is practically the only thing being done. And it is not being done at scale.' Each year, the group releases about 200 young crocodiles into the wild. The biologists wait until the animals reach a year old, a critical period in their lives, Hernandez explains. During this time, 'almost all are hunted.' In April, scientists released this year's batch. The young crocodiles, with their jaws bound, were placed in crates and transported from the zoo to the Capanaparo River in western Venezuela, near the Colombian border, where human settlements are sparse. This part of the river runs through private land, lowering the risk that the animals will be hunted immediately. Alvaro Velasco, 66, placed tape over the eyes of a juvenile to help it remain calm during transport. 'People ask me, 'Why crocodiles? They're ugly,'' says Velasco, president of the Crocodile Specialist Group. 'To me, they're fabulous animals. You release them and they stay there, looking at you, as if to say, 'What am I supposed to do in this huge river?' And then they swim off.' Pick-up trucks carried the scientists, crocodiles and volunteers along muddy tracks to a camp by the river, where the team spent the night sleeping in hammocks. The following morning, the crocodiles were gently lifted from their crates and carried to the water's edge. The juveniles slipped into the muddy, green-tinged river. 'Maybe many of these animals are going to be killed tomorrow or the day after tomorrow because of a lack of awareness among people and of course because of hunger,' says Hernandez. He echoes Pantin's fears that the Orinoco crocodile may ultimately be doomed. But, he adds, 'we're stubborn. It's a way of delaying extinction and it's something that is in our capacity to do. If we waited for the perfect circumstances, they would never come.'
Yahoo
19-05-2025
- Science
- Yahoo
The last-ditch race to save the Orinoco crocodile
By Gaby Oraa and Efrain Otero CAPANAPARO, Venezuela (Reuters) -Venezuelan biologist Carlos Alvarado, 34, has one hand on the young crocodile's neck and another on its tail. With the help of some tape and calipers, he is measuring it, tracking its growth a few days before it will be released into the wild. Alvarado's story - and that of the Orinoco crocodile he is caring for - is a tale of hope and persistence in the face of overwhelming odds. Fewer than 100 Orinoco crocodiles - one of the largest living reptiles in the world - remain in the wild, according to Venezuelan conservation foundation FUDECI. The animal's natural habitat is in the Orinoco River basin, which covers most of Venezuela and spills into Colombia. For decades, the men and women of the Venezuelan Crocodile Specialist Group have been raising younglings of the critically endangered species in captivity in a race against time to avoid its extinction. But they say they are losing that race. Decades of poaching for leather pushed the Orinoco crocodile to the brink, and now struggling Venezuelans who hunt the animals for meat and take their eggs for food threaten to deal the final blow. The members of the Crocodile Specialist Group are not getting any younger - and the next generation of biologists has mostly fled turmoil in Venezuela for jobs elsewhere. Alvarado remains alone to take up the baton. It is, he says, "a great responsibility." He has a sense of mission. He is trying to persuade university students to take part in the conservation effort. Federico Pantin, 59, is not optimistic. He is director of the Leslie Pantin Zoo in Turmero, near Caracas, which specializes in endangered species and is one of the places where the crocodile hatchlings are raised. "We're only delaying the Orinoco's extinction," he says. Pantin and his colleagues keep on going, however - researching, measuring, transporting. The scientists log the sites where the long-snouted Orinoco are known to nest, collecting their eggs or hatchlings. They also breed captive adults kept at the zoo and at Masaguaral Ranch, a biodiversity center and cattle farm near Tamarindito in central Venezuela. The scientists raise the babies, feeding them a diet of chicken, beef and vitamins until they are about a year old and grow to a weight of around 6 kg (13 lb). Adult Orinocos can reach over 5 meters (16 ft) in length, and can live for decades - a 70-year-old named Picopando resides at Masaguaral Ranch. The adults have tough, bony armor, fierce jaws and sharp teeth. They are not to be trifled with. But when they are first hatched, a researcher can cradle one in their hands. Omar Hernandez, 63, biologist and head of FUDECI, tags the tiny foot of a hatchling at the Leslie Pantin Zoo. To save the species, a number of efforts would be necessary, he says: research, protection, education, and management. "We are doing the management, collecting the hatchlings, raising them for a year and freeing them," he says. But "that is practically the only thing being done. And it is not being done at scale." Every year the group releases around 200 young crocs into the wild. The biologists wait until they are a year old as that is the most critical period in their life, Hernandez says. It is when they are young that "almost all are hunted." In April, Reuters accompanied the scientists as they released this year's batch. The young animals were placed in crates, their jaws bound, for the journey from the zoo to the Capanaparo River, deep in western Venezuela not far from the Colombian border, where human habitations are few and far between. This part of the river passes through private land, reducing the likelihood that the animals will immediately be hunted. Alvaro Velasco, 66, who has a tattoo of an Orinoco crocodile on his right shoulder, covered the eyes of a juvenile with tape to avoid it becoming stressed during the journey. "People ask me, 'Why crocodiles? They're ugly,'" said Velasco, president of the Crocodile Specialist Group. "To me, they're fabulous animals. You release them and they stay there, looking at you, as if to say 'What am I supposed to do in this huge river?' And then they swim off." Pickup trucks drove the scientists, crocodiles and volunteers along muddy tracks to a camp near the river, where the humans spent the night sleeping in hammocks. The next day, they gently removed the crocodiles from their crates and carried them to the river. The juveniles slid into the muddy, greenish waters. "Maybe many of these animals are going to be killed tomorrow or the day after tomorrow because of a lack of awareness among people and of course because of hunger," said Hernandez. He echoed Pantin's comments that ultimately the Orinoco crocodile was likely doomed. But, he said, "we're stubborn. It's a way of delaying extinction and it's something that is in our capacity to do. If we waited for the perfect circumstances, they would never come."
The Star
19-05-2025
- General
- The Star
The last-ditch race to save the Orinoco crocodile
CAPANAPARO, Venezuela (Reuters) -Venezuelan biologist Carlos Alvarado, 34, has one hand on the young crocodile's neck and another on its tail. With the help of some tape and calipers, he is measuring it, tracking its growth a few days before it will be released into the wild. Alvarado's story - and that of the Orinoco crocodile he is caring for - is a tale of hope and persistence in the face of overwhelming odds. Fewer than 100 Orinoco crocodiles - one of the largest living reptiles in the world - remain in the wild, according to Venezuelan conservation foundation FUDECI. The animal's natural habitat is in the Orinoco River basin, which covers most of Venezuela and spills into Colombia. For decades, the men and women of the Venezuelan Crocodile Specialist Group have been raising younglings of the critically endangered species in captivity in a race against time to avoid its extinction. But they say they are losing that race. Decades of poaching for leather pushed the Orinoco crocodile to the brink, and now struggling Venezuelans who hunt the animals for meat and take their eggs for food threaten to deal the final blow. The members of the Crocodile Specialist Group are not getting any younger - and the next generation of biologists has mostly fled turmoil in Venezuela for jobs elsewhere. Alvarado remains alone to take up the baton. It is, he says, "a great responsibility." He has a sense of mission. He is trying to persuade university students to take part in the conservation effort. Federico Pantin, 59, is not optimistic. He is director of the Leslie Pantin Zoo in Turmero, near Caracas, which specializes in endangered species and is one of the places where the crocodile hatchlings are raised. "We're only delaying the Orinoco's extinction," he says. Pantin and his colleagues keep on going, however - researching, measuring, transporting. The scientists log the sites where the long-snouted Orinoco are known to nest, collecting their eggs or hatchlings. They also breed captive adults kept at the zoo and at Masaguaral Ranch, a biodiversity center and cattle farm near Tamarindito in central Venezuela. The scientists raise the babies, feeding them a diet of chicken, beef and vitamins until they are about a year old and grow to a weight of around 6 kg (13 lb). Adult Orinocos can reach over 5 meters (16 ft) in length, and can live for decades - a 70-year-old named Picopando resides at Masaguaral Ranch. The adults have tough, bony armor, fierce jaws and sharp teeth. They are not to be trifled with. But when they are first hatched, a researcher can cradle one in their hands. Omar Hernandez, 63, biologist and head of FUDECI, tags the tiny foot of a hatchling at the Leslie Pantin Zoo. To save the species, a number of efforts would be necessary, he says: research, protection, education, and management. "We are doing the management, collecting the hatchlings, raising them for a year and freeing them," he says. But "that is practically the only thing being done. And it is not being done at scale." Every year the group releases around 200 young crocs into the wild. The biologists wait until they are a year old as that is the most critical period in their life, Hernandez says. It is when they are young that "almost all are hunted." In April, Reuters accompanied the scientists as they released this year's batch. The young animals were placed in crates, their jaws bound, for the journey from the zoo to the Capanaparo River, deep in western Venezuela not far from the Colombian border, where human habitations are few and far between. This part of the river passes through private land, reducing the likelihood that the animals will immediately be hunted. Alvaro Velasco, 66, who has a tattoo of an Orinoco crocodile on his right shoulder, covered the eyes of a juvenile with tape to avoid it becoming stressed during the journey. "People ask me, 'Why crocodiles? They're ugly,'" said Velasco, president of the Crocodile Specialist Group. "To me, they're fabulous animals. You release them and they stay there, looking at you, as if to say 'What am I supposed to do in this huge river?' And then they swim off." Pickup trucks drove the scientists, crocodiles and volunteers along muddy tracks to a camp near the river, where the humans spent the night sleeping in hammocks. The next day, they gently removed the crocodiles from their crates and carried them to the river. The juveniles slid into the muddy, greenish waters. "Maybe many of these animals are going to be killed tomorrow or the day after tomorrow because of a lack of awareness among people and of course because of hunger," said Hernandez. He echoed Pantin's comments that ultimately the Orinoco crocodile was likely doomed. But, he said, "we're stubborn. It's a way of delaying extinction and it's something that is in our capacity to do. If we waited for the perfect circumstances, they would never come." (Reporting by Gaby Oraa and Efrain Otero; Additional reporting by Kylie Madry and Vivian Sequera; Writing by Rosalba O'Brien; Editing by Daniel Wallis)
