The ultimate experience: Rogow '02 recounts summer fighting the 'gators

What would it take to get you to submerge yourself in a swimming pool with a 9.5-foot alligator, capture the animal, haul it out of the water and wrestle it on the nearby sand?

For Bryce Rogow '02, it was a wage of eight dollars an hour, guaranteed free insurance for any personal injuries during the activity and the promise of adventure.

This summer, Rogow — a native South Floridian — spent four months at a mock Seminole Indian village in Hollywood, Florida, at a tourist attraction for deepwater alligator wrestling.

"I'd seen alligator shows since I was a child and always wanted to try it," Rogow said in an e-mail. "It looked fun and exciting. This summer I finally decided to make it happen."

Making it happen seems deceptively simple — after just one week of training with alligators whose mouths were taped shut, Rogow was ready to tackle the wild gators.

But, as Rogow explained, provoking, prodding and maneuvering a 9.5-foot alligator with no soft spot for his safety is always "a close call."

"The difference between doing a successful show and getting torn to pieces is always a matter of inches. That's why they say there's no such thing as a bad alligator wrestler — they get weeded out pretty quickly," he said.

The shows — Rogow performed in four each day — consist of three main parts: Capturing the animal in the water, wrestling with the gator, and finally, educating the audience about the animals with fun facts and tricks.

"We jump in the water and either swim down, grab the alligator by the neck and then lift it out, or drag it out by its tail," Rogow said. "Both of these techniques were developed by the Seminoles about 300 years ago to catch alligators in the Everglades."

When the alligator is on the sand, the trainer performs a series of motions to drain the alligator's energy and increase its submissiveness.

"We use our hands to prod it, getting it to snap, hiss, lunge, spin around and try to bite us. Once we have the alligator tired out, we maneuver behind it and then pounce on its back."

"Then we show the crowd all kinds of neat tricks, like opening its mouth up — the 'Florida smile' — or keeping its jaws open using only our chins — the 'chin trick,' the most dangerous one."

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The trainer then educates the audience about alligator biology, adding bits of humor to keep the show dynamic and exciting.

"When I'd point out where the alligator's brain is, my boss would always say that my brain must be smaller than the gator's, since I'm dumb enough to be wrestling alligators when I could be interning on Wall Street like most of my friends," Rogow joked.

While each show necessarily contains an element of imminent danger, the wrestlers familiarize themselves with a series of techniques to better understand the alligators and to minimize their risk of serious injury.

The trainers scrutinize the alligators' actions in order to discover key facts about the animals' behavior. They then use this knowledge to "exploit the alligators' weaknesses and avoid their strengths."

"For example, alligators can see very well to the sides, but not directly in front of their noses or behind their tails. So you always want to approach an alligator from right in front or right behind. Otherwise, it will see you and react. You also need to watch the alligator's body language to predict what it is about to do. For example, tensed legs mean that it may be about to lunge," Rogow explained.

Yet even when the trainer is skilled with knowledge of the animal's habits and behavior, alligator wrestling remains a dangerous feat.

"Adult alligators can slam their jaws shut with over 2,000 pounds of pressure per tooth," Rogow said. "Worst case, the alligator 'death rolls' with your limb in its jaws, and takes off your arm at the elbow or your leg at the knee. The most dangerous part is when you're about to pounce on its back. If it cocks its head inches to either side, it will see you and you'll end up in its jaws.

"One more thing that makes the jaws dangerous, other than the 80 sharp teeth, is that the slightest touch on the inside of the mouth — a few grains of sand, drops of water or your fingers — will make the jaws slam shut."

In the face of such danger, the novelty and excitement of interacting with an untamed gator kept Rogow attached to the activity.

"The first time I jumped on a wild, thrashing alligator's back and held on for the ride was one of the biggest adrenaline rushes of my life," Rogow said.

While Rogow was fortunate not to have sustained any serious injuries during his tenure as an alligator wrestler, he does carry the physical and emotional memories of being bitten by a three-foot gator only four days before his job ended.

"It felt like being hit by a sledgehammer with nails in it. I got 22 lacerations on my right hand, and some bones in my hand were exposed," he explained. "Even an alligator of that size can take fingers off, so I was lucky not to be permanently damaged."

Rogow, who was "feeling kind of macho," ignored the pain, skipped the stitches, and remained focused his task.

"I had a job to do, so I cleaned up my hand, bandaged it and did two more shows that same day. Couldn't let the alligator beat me. That little bite certainly made me thankful that one of the big gators hadn't gotten me," he said.

While the idea of alligator "wrestling" may prompt animal rights activists to cringe at the thought of harming an animal for entertainment purposes, Rogow assures his viewers that the wrestlers always handle the alligators with the utmost care and respect.

"We're very gentle with our alligators, and we don't hurt them one bit. The term 'wrestling' is intended to sound violent to attract tourists," he explained. "A better word would be 'handling.' Our purpose was to entertain and educate our audience, not to injure the alligators."

"Alligator wrestling is a calculated risk," he said. "I love the excitement, I love the animals, and I felt like it was a tremendous accomplishment each time I made it through a show without bloodshed. Plus, I was proud to be one of only two people in the world who professionally wrestled alligators in deep water."