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Crocodile, Features

A HOT BREEZE rustled in the trees overhead, bringing a faint stench of rotten meat and an ominous rumbling sound. Our party came to an abrupt halt.

False alarm: the sound is just truck passing over a nearby hill, but for a moment I imagined a crocodile’s gaping jaws as it lunges out of a nearby rock pool, and I began to wonder if a mackerel fillet and a long stick were adequate protection for the task at hand.

This was the scene in a murky wood below Oikos village on Friday where, after two sightings, I had come in search of an elusive-crocodile like creature that was terrorising villagers.

With me were Androulla Charalambous, sister and guardian of the second witness, former EOKA fighter  and ex Oikos mukhtar Stelios Mavros, and resident crocodile hunter, and Sunday Mail intern Erica Macherioutou.

Earlier that morning, Erica and I met Stavroulla Diakou, the first witness, to see if we could learn anything about the beast’s habits to help our quest.

Diakou gives a convincing account of her experience, and is certain it was a crocodile, not an alligator or Caiman. “I may be from a village but I can most certainly distinguish one from the other. Alligators have a rounder face; a crocodile’s is longer and narrower. What I saw was a crocodile!”

No sooner had we started to discuss strategies for catching the beast (namely luring with bait and splashing about a bit) when the phone rang with news of a second sighting just metres from Diakou’s farm.

We arrived there moments later, together with Mavros (in full Camo gear) and began to explore. The second witness, Andreas Constantinou, 65, showed us the site where he claims the crocodile actually struck him before fleeing to the river.

Later he would tell two bemused-looking policemen. “The crocodile came up behind me and shoved me over the shoulders causing me to fall over the ledge,” he said.

Andreas’ sister, and carer, Androulla Charalambous said “Andreas was terrified, his clothes were soaked and he was shaking; he couldn’t sleep at all last night.  He keeps repeating the same story over and over, he wouldn’t lie, the poor darling.”

It was time to set the bait. On our way up to the mountains we had stopped off to buy mackerel fillets, which we laid tantalisingly along the river bank near muddy areas, to reveal footprints.

With no sign of life an hour later (bar one curious crab) it was time for plan B: Souvlakia. Two hours, and one hearty lunch later we had confirmed our suspicions: the creature had left the area.

There was only one thing left to do; venture into its lair.

With one last mackerel fillet and an intern as bait, we set off upstream. After about 300 metres we reached DIakou’s farm, scene of the first sighting two weeks ago.

The farm sits in a narrow meadow formed by the looping river, and is home to a row of rabbit hutches and pigsties.

Upwind we discover the source of the rotting smell: the Fisheries Department’s traps, which had been dismantled after two weeks without success.

Clearly the beast was a greater match than we first thought: it had resisted mackerel, souvlakia and even reptile experts’ trap, and while sceptics might doubt the existence of a crocodile, the truth was still out there to be discovered, so we ventured on.

Asked if he believed in the crocodile’s existence, Mavros said ““Well I haven’t seen anything to confirm it, and the traps left by the Department of Fisheries were untouched, but there’s no fish left in the river, he’s cleared it all.”

As long as the threat remains of a hungry wild predator, Mavros is remaining cautions about his grandchildrens’ safety. “I used to bring my grandchildren here every year to splash around the river. Now I wouldn’t dare.”

Soon the dense forest forces us to turn back. There was just one place on our list to check – the algae filled pond at the foot of the Oikos dam - perfect croc territory.

We arrived there 10 minutes later, where all was silent save for the trickling of a stream from the dam above us.

Where was the dam manager? Had the crocodile entered and eaten the compound’s residents? Only a stray puppy answered our calls. Could he be the next victim. Could this puppy even be the misunderstood monster?

We left Oikos with as many questions as when we had arrived, but one thing was for sure – whatever was out there was not Cypriot, for what Cypriot carnivore could resist souvlakia?