Is it for preservation or culling? Life in the crocodile capital of Australia

Government ranger Kelly Ewin, whose job it is to capture and remove crocodiles, balances precariously on a floating trap at dawn in Darwin Harbor.

Heavy rain clouds from the recent storm were drifting overhead. The boat's engines have been cut, so it's almost silent now—except for the intermittent splashing of water from inside the trap.

“Your chances of dealing with these guys are almost zero,” Juve said as he tried to wrap a lasso around the agitated reptile's jaw.

We are located in Australia's Northern Territory (NT), home to approximately 100,000 wild saltwater crocodiles, more than anywhere in the world.

The capital, Darwin, is a small coastal city surrounded by beaches and wetlands.

And, as you quickly learn, in the Northern Territory, where there's water there's usually crocodiles.

Saltwater crocodiles (known locally as saltwater crocodiles) were hunted almost to extinction 50 years ago.

After World War II, the uncontrolled fur trade soared, and the number dropped to around 3,000 animals.

But after hunting was banned in 1971, the population began growing again, and rapidly.

They remain a protected species but are no longer threatened.

Saltwater crocodiles have recovered so quickly that Australia now faces a different dilemma: managing their populations to ensure people's safety and public support.

Crocodile expert Professor Graham Webb explained: “The worst thing is when people turn (against crocodiles).”

“And then there's always some knee-jerk reaction from politicians who think they're going to 'solve' the crocodile problem.”

The Northern Territory's hot temperatures and rich coastal environment create the perfect habitat for cold-blooded crocodiles, which need warmth to keep their body temperatures constant.

Saltfish are also abundant in northern Queensland, Western Australia and parts of South East Asia.

While most species of crocodiles are harmless, saltwater crocodiles can be territorial and aggressive.

Fatal incidents are rare in Australia, but they do happen.

Last year, a 12-year-old child was snatched, the first crocodile death in the Northern Territory since 2018.

This is the busiest time of year for Evan and his colleagues.

The breeding season has just begun, which means the saltwater fish are on the move.

His team goes out to sea multiple times a week to check 24 crocodile traps around Darwin.

The area is popular for fishing and brave swimmers.

Crocodiles removed from ports are usually killed because they are likely to return to the port if they are released elsewhere.

“Our job is to try to keep people safe,” he said, having been doing his “dream job” for two years. Before that, he was a police officer.

“Obviously, we're not going to capture every crocodile, but the more crocodiles we capture from the harbor, the smaller the risk of encountering crocodiles and humans.”

Another tool that can help keep the public safe is education.

The Northern Territory Government runs the 'Be Crocwise' program in schools, which teaches people how to behave responsibly around crocodile habitats.

It was so successful that Florida and the Philippines are now looking to borrow it to better understand how the world's most dangerous predators coexist with humans with minimal interaction.

“We live in crocodile country, so it's about how do we (keep ourselves) safe around waterways – how should we respond?” Natasha Hoffman, the Northern Territory ranger in charge of the project said.

“If you're in a boat while fishing, you need to be aware that they're there. They're ambush hunters, they sit, watch and wait. If they get a chance to grab food, that's what they're going to do.”

In the Northern Territory, large-scale culling is not currently being considered due to the species' protected status.

Last year, the government approved a new ten-year crocodile management plan to help control the population, which increases the annual quota of crocodiles that can be killed from 300 to 1,200.

This builds on the work Evan's team is doing to remove crocodiles that pose a direct threat to humans.

Every time a crocodile dies, it reignites the debate about how close crocodiles live with humans.

In the days after the 12-year-old girl was taken away last year, then-NT leader Eva Lawler made it clear she would not allow the reptiles to outnumber the Territory's human population.

The number currently stands at 250,000, far higher than the number of crocodiles in the wild.

This is a conversation that goes beyond the New Testament.

Queensland has about a quarter of the crocodile population in the northern part of the Northern Territory, but there are far more tourists and far more deaths, meaning the topic of crocodile culling sometimes comes up in election debates.

These apex predators may be controversial, but they're also a big drawcard for the Northern Territory – attracting not only tourists but also fashion brands keen to buy their hides.

Visitors can head to the Adelaide River to watch the “Crocodile Leap” – where salty fish are fed chunks of meat on the end of a stick if they can jump out of the water for spectators.

“I should have told you to put on your (life jacket),” joked Alex “Wookie” Williams, skipper of the spectacular Jumping Crocodile cruise ship, as he explained the ship's house rules.

“What I don't have to tell you is… life jackets are useless here.”

For Williams, who has been obsessed with alligators since childhood, there are many opportunities to work with them.

“It’s boomed over the last decade or so,” he said of the number of tourists coming to the area.

Agriculture, introduced when hunting was banned, has also become an economic driver.

It is estimated that there are approximately 150,000 crocodiles currently in captivity in the Northern Territory.

Fashion brands such as Louis Vuitton and Hermès have invested in the industry, with a Birkin 35 crocodile handbag selling for up to A$800,000 ($500,000; £398,000).

“Business incentives are effectively put in place to help people tolerate crocodiles because we need a social license to use wild animals,” said Mick Burns, one of the Northern Territory's best-known farmers working with luxury brands.

His office is located in Darwin city centre. On the floor was a huge crocodile skin. Another piece of skin, at least four meters long, is nailed to the wall of the conference room.

Burns is also involved in a ranch in remote Arnhem Land, about 500 kilometers (310 miles) east of Darwin. There he worked with Aboriginal rangers to harvest and hatch crocodile eggs, then sell the skins to the luxury goods industry.

Otto Bulmaniya Campion, one of the traditional owners of the area who works with Burns, said more partnerships like theirs would be vital to ensuring Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander It is vital that civilian communities share in the economic benefits of the industry.

Crocodiles have played an important role in Aboriginal cultures for tens of thousands of years, shaping their sacred stories, lives and livelihoods.

“My father and all the elders used to go harpooning crocodiles, get a skin and then go and trade it for tea, flour and sugar. (However) there was no money,” the Barngara man said.

“Now, we want to see our own people handling the reptiles.”

But not everyone agrees with farming as a practice — even if those involved say it helps the environment.

Animal activists are concerned about the way crocodiles are kept in captivity.

Although they are social animals, they are often confined to individual enclosures to ensure their skins are flawless – as a fight between two territorial crocodiles will almost certainly damage valuable merchandise.

Everyone in Darwin has a story about these terrifying creatures, whether they want to see them hunted in greater numbers or protected more strictly.

But the threat they continue to pose is unimaginable.

Professor Webber said matter-of-factly: “If you go (swimming) in the Adelaide River next to Darwin, there's a 100 per cent chance you'll be killed.”

“The only question is whether it takes five minutes or 10 minutes. I don't think you'll ever get to 15 minutes – you'll get ripped,” he added, pulling up his trouser leg to reveal a huge scar on his calf – — is evidence of a close encounter he had with an angry female while collecting eggs nearly forty years ago.

He is unapologetic about what he says is the pragmatism of authorities in managing populations and making money from the crocodiles — a way of life that, at least for the near future, will continue to exist.

“We've done something that very few people can do, which is capture a very serious predator … and then manage them in a way that the public is prepared to (tolerate) them.

“You try to ask people in Sydney, London or New York to put up with serious predators – they're not going to do it.”

Additional reporting by Simon Atkinson.