321 is a really specific number to use for an “about”-type estimate.about 321 yards away
321 is a really specific number to use for an “about”-type estimate.
Years back in Florida there was a gator in the middle of a Pompano Beach street that just decided he liked it there and was going to nap. A Pompano LEO responded and tried to “nudge” the 7 to 8 foot gator along with his front bumper (I think they had Caprices then) and the gator just got mad and bit the front bumper leaving maybe a half dozen holes from his teeth. It took a couple animal control officers with catch poles to secure the gator and then a wildlife specialist to haul him off. All total that road was closed down for about 2 hours … for just a 7 to 8 foot gator who just wanted to take nap.
By the letter of Wildlife Fish and Game Laws that would be a felony with major fines … might be hard to prove but I’ve seen an individual shrimping 1 hour to early get fined and community service. Hell, if you mess with (throw golf balls or such) gators in certain areas they will charge you with harassing wildlife (which is a misdemeanor only) and fine you $200 …A 6-7 foot gator tried occupying the road at NPTU, Charleston while I was on shore duty (as they often did). Unfortunately for that particular one, one of the drivers in a big ole pickup truck decided he didn't have who-knows-how-long-of-a-wait to spare. So he ran him over.
I don't know what happened to the gator afterwards, live or die.
#FloridaManAbout 15 years ago I had this buddy. He played football for Guilford college, center. Not overly tall, but squat and muscular. Man knew no fear. Only stopped playing ball because he broke his back in a game after a blindside hit after a play.
Anyway, this guy made up for brains by being tougher than rawhide. He would fight a chainsaw, and probably win. Problem was, some of his stories he would tell just wouldn’t pan out in the “that makes sense” and he seemed to stretch the truth at times to make things a bit more than they were.
So he and his wife move down to Florida, and now this is before Facebook was really around so I kinda lost contact with him. We chat on the phone at times, but only here and there. Well he calls me up one day and starts telling me another whopper. About how he messed up his hand fighting a gator, his wife buster her knee getting hit by its tail; and his dog lost its leg to it.
I listened and put in my usual “wows” and “that’s crazies”. But figured it probably wasn’t all it cracked up to be.
So a few months later he comes back to NC to visit and we are all over at my folks house and he whips out a VHS tape. He says it’s the local news article about it.
And he was 100% telling the truth. He had stopped along the road to fish in a pond. He had waded out in the water a bit, his dog was playing in the water around him, and his wife had gone in a little as well, about up to her knees. Suddenly his dog yelped and disappeared. So my friend dove in the direction he saw his dog vanish and grabbed him. When he pulled up he said he just saw a scaled belly, so he started punching it as hard as he could. The gator thrashed around and it’s tail smacked his wife in the leg. After punching and punching (remember, this guy is build like a midgets brick poop house) the gator let go briefly and he grabbed his dog and took off for shore. They drove to the vets office and his dog lost a leg. They had footage of his scuffed and bloody knuckles.
Local wildlife officers went out and hunted and caught a 10-12 foot gator in the same pond.
Yes, it was completely stupid to just randomly jump in a pond in Florida and start fishing. But that’s the kind of stuff this guy would do.
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"It was about 321 yards away when he fireda single shot, striking it just above the eyes, according a Facebook post."
Hell of a shot at 963 feet.
The kill spot is very small.
A 6-7 foot gator tried occupying the road at NPTU, Charleston while I was on shore duty (as they often did). Unfortunately for that particular one, one of the drivers in a big ole pickup truck decided he didn't have who-knows-how-long-of-a-wait to spare. So he ran him over.
I don't know what happened to the gator afterwards, live or die.
I saw a 6-7 footer get run over by a fully loaded log truck. I watched the drivers side wheels go over its head. We went back to see if it was dead. By the time we got back to the spot, the gator was on the other side of the road. Grandpa being the joker he always was, told me to reach down and grab the gator that he should be dead by now.
Well, it wasn't. He didn't want to be touched and let out a great big hiss as he swung his head over in my direction. I was only about 6 feet away but I think I jump 6ft high and about 12 ft back. Grandpa got a great laugh about it. I did to once I calmed down.