Dance of the Reptiles

by Carl Hiaasen

  That’s what Democrats always say about Republicans, so many voters didn’t take it seriously. Who would have imagined that, in only three months, Bush would start to make Ronnie Reagan sound like Marjory Stoneman Douglas?

  In his budget package unveiled last week, George II asked Congress to cripple the Endangered Species Act by suspending the deadlines when government must respond to petitions for protecting imperiled wildlife. Echoing a complaint of the Clinton administration, the Bush White House says the Interior Department is swamped by lawsuits seeking “endangered” status for rare species of fish, plants, birds, reptiles, and mammals.

  Bush officials want a one-year moratorium that would effectively forestall any new court order protecting specific animals and their habitats. They say such decisions should come from within the agency, not from outside litigation.

  Unfortunately, litigation is the only thing that seems to work. The Endangered Species Act is despised by powerful segments of the business community, and the Interior Department never has been independently aggressive about enforcing it.

  If it weren’t for legal action by citizen groups and environmental organizations, no federal protection would exist for the Atlantic salmon, the northern spotted owl, and most of the 1,200 species that the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service now lists as threatened.

  That’s not to say the law isn’t abused or that the listing process doesn’t need reform. But the notion of entrusting the fate of the nation’s dwindling wildlife to a political appointee—especially Interior Secretary Gale Norton—is laughably brazen.

  Critters sometimes get in the way of bulldozers, and that’s unacceptable to those who bankrolled Bush’s presidential campaign—developers, energy companies, the timber and mining industries. They’d love to see the Endangered Species Act trashed completely, and there’s no reason to expect Bush won’t try to oblige. Judging by his brief track record, he’ll do absolutely anything that industry wants.

  One of the president’s first executive actions was to throw out the federal rules on how much arsenic can be dumped in drinking water by hard-rock mines. Bush decided it won’t hurt people in Utah and Nevada to swallow 80 percent more of the soluble poison.

  Next, he casually reneged on a campaign promise to reduce carbon-dioxide emissions from power plants. Overruling his new chief of the Environmental Protection Agency, Christie Todd Whitman, Bush said that adding smog controls would be a financial hardship for utilities.

  He made the same argument for weaseling out of the Kyoto Protocol, an international agreement to limit the volume of greenhouse gases released into the global atmosphere.

  Predictably, the two industries that will gain the most from Bush’s backpedaling—mining and electric power—were responsible for two-thirds of the 7.7 billion pounds of toxic chemicals spewed into the environment in 1999, the last year for which statistics are available. That report was issued Wednesday by the EPA itself. Naturally, President Asterisk wants to cut the agency’s budget by 6 percent, a big chunk coming from enforcement.

  As dangerous to the public health as his actions appear, Bush is refreshing in a peculiar sort of way. He wasted no time showing his true colors, which was considerate of him. We’ve had plenty of presidents who didn’t give a damn about the environment but pretended otherwise.

  Not Bush. He’s proving to be a rare species himself—a politician who is exactly what his critics said he was: in this case, a stalwart and unapologetic shill for big business.

  His priority is simple and unambiguous: to fatten corporate profits at all costs.

  Nobody can say he isn’t decisive. Nobody can say he doesn’t have a well-defined policy.

  Look at the bold moves he has made in only three months:

  More toxins in the water we drink, more crud in the air we breathe, less wilderness for refuge—and fewer birds and animals to share it with.

  And to think this is only the beginning.

  June 3, 2001

  George W. Does the ’Glades Thing

  President Bush travels to Florida tomorrow on a new campaign to prove he really doesn’t hate nature.

  Buoyed by his triumphant communing with a giant sequoia tree in California, the president plans to celebrate federal efforts to restore and preserve the Everglades.

  Concerned that Bush is perceived as indifferent to environmental concerns, the White House carefully has crafted a Florida itinerary that will show the president as a caring, sensitive friend of the earth:

  8 A.M. Air Force One arrives at Miami International Airport.

  Photo opportunity: President cradles a small burrowing owl that has been digging a nest near runway Nine-Right.

  Prepared comment: “Imagine such a tiny thing living among these huge noisy jumbo jets—what better example of nature and mankind coexisting in harmony!”

  9:05. Motorcade enters Everglades National Park.

  Photo op: President pauses to admire a mangrove.

  Prepared comment: “While perhaps not as imposing as the great sequoias, this humble tree plays a unique role in nurturing marine life.

  “That’s why it is vital to continue clear-cutting our vast federal forests in Montana and Idaho, so that these precious mangroves will never be needed to meet our nation’s burgeoning timber needs.”

  10:15. Motorcade stops at a wetland.

  Photo op: President poses with the wetland.

  Prepared comment: “My administration is firmly committed to restoring the river of grass to its previous lush glory, so that it may be cherished by future generations.

  “That’s why it is imperative to move ahead with drilling in the Gulf of Mexico and the Arctic Preserve, thus ensuring there will always be plenty of gasoline for Americans who wish to drive to Florida and see the Everglades.”

  10:30. Motorcade stops at a slough.

  Photo op: President poses with a garfish.

  10:45. Motorcade stops by a canal.

  Photo op: President poses with a turtle.

  10:55. Motorcade stops at a cypress hammock.

  Photo op: President poses with a palmetto bug.

  Noon: Box lunch, followed by airboat ride.

  Photo op: President pauses to admire sawgrass.

  Prepared comment: “Wouldn’t it be a tragedy if Americans could no longer tour this national treasure because there wasn’t enough aluminum for making airboat hulls, or copper for wiring the engine coils?

  “That’s why our mining companies must not be crippled by unnecessary regulations and pollution controls. A little extra arsenic in the water is a small price to pay for the pleasure of airboating among garfish and turtles on a spring day.”

  1:15. Motorcade stops at gator pond.

  Photo op: President points out several alligators swimming nearby.

  Prepared comment: “It wasn’t so many years ago that these magnificent animals were almost extinct. Today they’re so plentiful, we’re making shoes and purses out of ’em again!

  “Now, that’s how the Endangered Species Act is supposed to work.”

  2:30. Kayaking excursion on Whitewater Bay.

  Photo op: President swims with a manatee.

  Prepared comment: “We must do everything in our power to help this gentle giant endure.

  “That’s one reason why I’m committed to leasing millions of public acres dirt-cheap to America’s cattle ranchers, so that these precious manatees will never be needed to meet our nation’s burgeoning demand for protein.”

  4:05. Motorcade arrives at a Seminole Indian village.

  Photo op: More endangered species.

  Being allergic to cats, the president will be unable to commune with a captive Florida panther. Alternatives include a gopher tortoise, a baby indigo snake, and some sort of large moth.

  In the event that no endangered animals are available, the president has consented to be photographed with a raccoon.

  4:30. Tribute to Marjory Stoneman Douglas.

  Photo op: The president and Interior
Secretary Gale Norton will perform a dramatic reading from Douglas’s classic Everglades essays.

  This will be followed by a small riot.

  5:15. Presidential tour ends at park headquarters.

  Photo op: President is greeted by his brother, Florida Gov. Jeb Bush, who will be wearing a grocery bag over his head.

  November 28, 2001

  War Has Been Declared on the Humble Sea Cow

  “We need to define just how many manatees you need.”

  That revelatory remark was made two years ago by a fellow named Wade Hopping. He’s a big-time Tallahassee lobbyist who was speaking on behalf of the National Marine Manufacturers Association, which represents makers of boats and outboard engines. Asserting that Florida’s manatee population was “stable and growing,” Hopping suggested that the mammal be removed from the endangered-species list.

  Incredibly, both the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission now seem to be sliding in that direction.

  War quietly has been declared on the humble sea cow.

  Influential special interests fear that their profits will be threatened by regulations designed to protect the hulking, easygoing animal.

  Last month, the Coastal Conservation Association disgraced its own name by petitioning the state to demote the manatee from “endangered” to “threatened.” The CCA claims to stand for the views of thousands of recreational anglers, but on this issue, the group is hauling water for boating and sportfishing suppliers.

  It’s part of an anti-manatee backlash that began after authorities decided to beef up efforts to protect the species. Hammered by lawsuits from environmental groups, state and federal agencies agreed to devise broader regulations. Among them: more low-speed boating zones in areas of heavy manatee activity and the creation of several manatee sanctuaries where human activity would be banned or limited.

  Another controversial provision would have imposed special fees for new docks, the revenues to be used for enforcing manatee laws. That plan was scrapped after an outcry from developers of marinas.

  The new proposals have earned the manatees some prickly enemies:

  * Boaters who don’t like to be told to slow down.

  * Fishermen who don’t like to be told where to fish.

  * Trade groups whose members sell fast boats and fishing tackle.

  While the efficacy of some manatee protection measures can and should be debated, it’s ridiculous to argue that the critter is no longer endangered.

  Florida has more than 800,000 registered boats and only about 3,200 sea cows. Even when you’re lucky enough to see one in the wild, it’s usually striped with prop scars.

  Advocates of “delisting” cite an increase in the manatees counted during aerial surveys. They say that the population has reached a level at which strict regulations are no longer necessary. In other words, there are enough manatees swimming around that we can start killing them off again with impunity.

  The Fish and Wildlife Service recently bucked its own scientists by approving a plan that would allow the delisting of manatees even if their population wasn’t growing.

  The FWS said that an annual mortality of 200 to 300 adult males is acceptable (to all, presumably, except the doomed manatees). Meanwhile, state wildlife officials also have agreed to reassess the species’ designation as endangered.

  The irony is, there wouldn’t be any sea cows left to argue about if they hadn’t been protected for the last three decades. No less important than the laws and the speed zones is the heightened public awareness that resulted.

  Today the manatee is a beloved Florida icon, celebrated with license plates, Jimmy Buffett tunes, and cuddly stuffed toys. Homely as they are, sea cows are adored by tourists and natives alike.

  Idling my boat through a channel instead of racing full throttle is a small sacrifice for the thrill of sharing the water with these ancient and fascinating behemoths.

  In 1999, the year that glib Mr. Hopping and the marine manufacturers declared war, 82 manatees were killed by boaters—the most ever. During the last 23 months, 150 more have perished by propeller.

  Such sad accidents are inevitable. Sea cows go wherever they please, and it’s impossible to protect them all the time. That doesn’t mean that we should stop trying.

  Despite what lobbyists say, saving a few more manatees won’t endanger Florida’s huge marine industry. With input from anglers and boaters, as well as biologists, it shouldn’t be hard to come up with a sensible long-term plan.

  How many manatees is enough? What an insipid question.

  It’s more appropriate to ask just how many Wade Hoppings we need.

  May 16, 2004

  Fishy Tale About Timber Lobbyist, Wild Salmon

  President Bush has found an intriguing way to skate around the Endangered Species Act, the wildlife-protection law that has caused so many headaches for his pals in timber, oil, and real-estate development.

  In a move that surprised residents of the Pacific Northwest, the administration has decided to start counting hatchery fish when determining whether certain types of wild salmon should remain on the federal endangered list.

  This proposal didn’t come from biologists, many of whom consider hatchery fry to be genetically inferior to wild salmon. Nor did the plan come from the administration’s own appointed panel of experts, whose findings were dismissed by the president’s men.

  Actually, it was a lawyer named Mark C. Rutzick who first dreamed up the idea of including hatchery-bred salmon when counting the species. The intent was to boost the reported fish population to such levels that the species might be removed from the endangered list and no longer be protected.

  At the time, Rutzick’s prize clients were timber companies, often under fire for trashing streams and rivers. He led the fight against conservation rules intended to protect fish and animal habitats from the effects of forestry operations.

  Presented with such credentials, it’s no wonder that President Bush appointed Rutzick as a legal adviser to the National Marine Fisheries Service. Who better than an agent of the logging industry to oversee the future of America’s 26 imperiled species of salmon?

  Here in Florida, we have no salmon, but we do have a variety of wildlife at risk of being wiped off the planet, including the panther, the Key deer, the Miami blue butterfly, and the homely short-nosed sturgeon.

  In all, federal and state officials have classified at least 57 Florida species as either endangered or threatened. None stirs more emotion than the ponderous manatee, which is at the center of a battle pitting environmentalists against the recreational marine industry and waterfront developers.

  The Legislature’s sympathies were never in doubt. Last month it passed a bill that would severely limit the ability of state wildlife authorities to set boating speed zones or restrict dock building in areas where manatees congregate.

  The measure, now on Gov. Jeb Bush’s desk, is endorsed by some of the same interest groups that have been lobbying to get manatees scratched off the endangered list altogether. Could their campaign be given new life by the administration’s novel hatchery concept?

  Obviously, farming manatees would pose some unique challenges. For starters, sea cows are considerably larger than salmon—an adult specimen weighs anywhere from 800 to 1,200 pounds. Even newborn manatees are chubby, averaging more than 60 pounds. Consequently, the holding tanks will have to be very spacious.

  Then there’s the fertility issue. A female salmon lays 2,000 to 10,000 eggs every spawning season, but the average female manatee gives birth to only a single calf every two to five years. So the process of accumulating baby manatees will take a very long time.

  And while mother salmon typically lay their eggs and take off, mother manatees insist on sticking around for a couple of years to nurse and raise the calves. This could get expensive, because manatees eat the equivalent of 10 to 15 percent of their own body weight every day.

  So the grocer
y bill for fresh greens will be very high.

  Finally, there’s the problem of adaptability. When you put baby salmon into a river, they almost always swim away—even the dumbest, most inbred hatchery fish. Manatees are more likely to be confused by their sudden freedom, especially after being fed and pampered for so long. The spectacle of hundreds of young sea cows moping around a river, waiting for handouts, could be a definite problem, PR-wise.

  None of these hurdles is insurmountable, though. Just as the White House relied on a timber advocate for advice on salmon, perhaps it could turn to the makers of Jet Skis for guidance on manatee management.

  If such a bold approach were successful, we might see a day when a hatchery-style census is applied to Florida’s remaining panthers and Key deer, perhaps counting zoo specimens as part of the natural population.

  Anything is possible when we’ve got a president so clearly committed to pruning the nation’s roster of endangered species down to a manageable two or three critters.

  May 29, 2005

  Vigilance Falls Woefully Short

  If Miami-Dade commissioners sell out to developers and vote to move westward the county’s Urban Development Boundary, thousands of acres of wetlands will be open to destruction.

  The decision would effectively sabotage the $8 billion Everglades restoration plan and would further imperil South Florida’s future water supply.

  In theory, wetlands are supposed to be protected under the Clean Water Act by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. Since the federal government is an equal partner with Florida in the much-hyped Everglades project, you might reasonably assume that the Corps would make at least a token effort at vigilance.

  But you’d be wrong.

  If the UDB gets moved, all remaining wetlands along the rim of the Everglades are in danger. Judging by its past actions, the Corps will bow to the developers as meekly as the politicians do.

  A series of superb articles in The St. Petersburg Times has documented that at least 84,000 acres of wetlands in Florida have been obliterated since 1990. That was the year that the first President Bush unveiled a federal initiative called “no net loss.” The idea was that developers would be required to replace the pristine marshes and swamps that they destroyed.