May 2, 1999

After much discussion, heated at times, the posse saddled up, and headed off to our final destination, Darwin. On the way, after gazing, with deep respect, upon the mounds of the world-renowned magnetic termites. We spotted a sign that read "This way to Humpty Doo - Home of the Famous Jumping Crocodiles." We pulled into the Hamlet of Humpty Doo, situated about thirty kilometers off of the main highway, on the Adelaide River. The large boat pulled up to the dock or jetty, as the Aussies call it; we clamored aboard and waited for the fun to begin. Somewhat pessimistic, as our recent maritime activities had proved to be less then climactic, we settled in for an hour and a half of river cruising and tree watching. Not ten minutes into the trip, the skippers inane, yet comical, monologue was interrupted by his, whispered in awe, warning "There's one now, keep your hands in the boat!"

On a piece of twine, dangling from a ten-foot pole, Judy, the "Giligan" of the tour, hung a large chunk of pig head over the water. The crocodile slithered from the shore, where he had been baking in the midday sun, working on his own version of "the tan", and into the murky river; making his way, towards what was left of good ole' Wilbur’s snout and face. After a bit of coaxing and teasing the beast lunged out of the river, closed a huge set of choppers down on the raw porky treat, and descended to the depths for a little mid-afternoon snack.