Attack of the Killer Manatees

Let me share a sure-fire way for stirring up conversation at your next social gathering along the Gulfshore. Forget presidential politics. We're way over that. Besides, most folks, be they Democratic or Republican, can maintain a fairly cool head and a civil tongue when they argue party lines.

Not so when it comes to the number-one hot-button issue hereabouts. I refer, of course, to manatees. Around here, you're either for them or against them, and there's no suffering fools who would take the middle ground.

Depending on your point of view, manatees are either: 1) Defenseless endangered creatures that deserve everything we can do to protect them, or 2) Devious marine terrorists bent on destroying the value of waterfront real estate, ruining recreational boating and subverting the American way of life. Anti-manatee extremists take it even further, blaming manatees for everything from declining SAT scores and soaring gas prices to the sagging fortunes of Florida's NFL teams. But since these radicals comprise no more than 30 percent of the population, they can safely be ignored.

I recently witnessed just how ugly it can get when the topic turns to manatees. After an otherwise lovely dinner one evening at a friend's new home, several of us were sitting around the swimming pool, looking out on the canal that leads eventually to the Gulf. One of our group asked the owner: "So, when are you going to put in a dock for your boat?"

After a flurry of colorful but not particularly original maledictions, the owner explained that he'd been trying to get his dock built for the past several months, but the permitting process was at a standstill. All because of the blankety-blank-blank manatees.

Then someone else chimed in, saying he and his neighbors had spent thousands of dollars trying to fight the establishment of a no-wake manatee zone on the waterway near his house. Another guy said he and some of his boating friends had made a pact among themselves to ignore such speed zones because-and these were his exact words-"slow boats hit manatees, too, so we might as well go as fast as we want."

At that point, yet another person spoke up. He offered the opinion that since manatees have no choice but to live in the waterways, and people, no matter how big their boats, are interlopers, then it seemed a matter of common decency for people to show just a smidgen of respect for the native populace, even if it took them a few minutes longer to get where they were going. After that, all hell broke loose. Fortunately, my wife intervened and led me away before it came to a bloodletting.

It didn't used to be like this. When the whole "Save the Manatee" thing got started some 25 years ago, the general sentiment seemed to be, hey, let's do what we can to help the critters. But then the manatees screwed up big time. They didn't go dodo. They didn't die. They just did what we all do-they tried to hang in there.

Now, depending on whose statistics you are willing to believe, the manatee population between Tampa Bay and the Ten Thousand Islands is either about 3,400 and holding or 45 million and skyrocketing. Again, there's little point in taking a middle ground.

But life is dreadfully short, and there's no reason why we shouldn't all be happy. That's why I am proposing the Ultimate Manatee Protection Act, which offers a little something for everyone.

Under this proposal, recreational boaters could again rule the waters. Anyone who wants a dock can have one, and we'll do away with all the no-wake zones. The money otherwise spent on enforcing the regulations will be used to buy explosives, which will be put into neat little bundles and strapped to the backs of the manatees.

Then I'll pull up a chair by the water and watch: boaters going as fast as they want, and manatees enjoying some much-deserved retribution on their way to glory.