Night visions: Zoo gives up-close and personal tour of the wilder side of animals — after dark

By JENNIFER GRANT, jlgrant@naplesnews.com
February 1, 2004

It's kind of like going on an African safari — first you need the proper gear for the excursion and then learn how to use it. Only then can you go where the wild things are.

But this is not Africa, and it's really not a safari. But it's about as close as you can get in Southwest Florida. It's the Night Eyes Tour at Caribbean Gardens, the Zoo in Naples.

The program, which is in its second season, aims to show zoo goers just what happens after dark in a place where wild animals roam, the place they call home.

"This is something unique," says Christine Porter, zoo public relations director, dressed for the occasion in a ball cap and hiking garb. It's a chilly Friday night — with temperatures dipping into the 'colder than normal' range — and a few people are even donning gloves in preparation for their trip into the night.

There are about a dozen anxious tour goers gathered here in the zoo gift shop. They mill about, checking out the navy blue night vision monoculars that each will need to learn to use before making his mark around the 52-acre park.

"You never know what's going to happen around here," says zoo director David Tetzlaff, who personally leads the night tours. He too is dressed in a cap and khakis ready for the great zoo escape that he's been a part of since he was 6.

Tetzlaff, the son of "Jungle Larry & Safari Jane" (Lawrence and Nancy Jane Tetzlaff, who purchased the zoo in the late 1960s) now spearheads the creation of new exhibits and improvements of existing facilities and methodologies at the zoo.

One such creation is this Night Eyes tour, which Tetzlaff says is a rarity in the zoo world. He'd heard about it through a former coworker who'd heard of a zoo in Singapore that did the same thing. There, though, Tetzlaff says the lights were on during the evening zoo tours.

"We wanted to make it more natural," he adds, saying that's why this entire tour is done in the dark of night, with only him grasping a flashlight and the tour participants following his lead with questions and curiosity.

"It's a new opportunity," he says of the evening tour. "Everyday you learn something new."

As a primer for the safari-type tour, Tetzlaff heads from the gift shop into none other than Safari Canyon, a stadium area where daily daytime shows take place. This is the only part of the tour where he uses a microphone, in order to discuss some important habits and descriptions of nocturnal animals. It's here that he gives a lesson on the monoculars.

"Don't take your lens cap off yet," he says. It's dim lighting in the canyon, but it still could affect the pricey monoculars. "The bright lights damage the equipment."

Once the lights are off, the first test for the night glasses is given. In focusing the monoculars the group realizes there's a two-toed sloth dangling from a tree branch on the canyon stage. After a quick pet of the sloth, it's off to the park for a peek.

The group is giddy with excitement, still bleary-eyed from the light of the gift shop and Safari canyon. That's when the other senses kick in. The scuffling of two dozen feet along the gravel path seems like hundreds. There's inadvertent bumping into each other, and a few giggles can be heard above the soothing singing of crickets.

The first stop on this safari is a gumbo limbo tree. It's a test, Tetzlaff tells the group, to see if they each know how to properly use the monoculars.

"What is it?" Tetzlaff asks. "What's in the tree?"

There are a few grumblings and someone drops his lens cap. Everyone's still trying to focus on the tree, let alone what is in it.

"It's a snake!" someone says.

"The joke's on you, it's fiberglass," Tetzlaff says and laughs. This seems to be the safari leader's true nature, a prankster, yet one who teaches along the way.

He's also got the voice of a campfire storyteller, weaving tales so well that it makes his pack of people a bit nervous: "He crawls right beside his prey," Tetzlaff says of the snake, with an eerie inflection in his voice.

There's more scuffling and as the group moves on to the next tour stop, it's slow walking, as if everyone's searching for, or at least anticipating, a snake.

Next stop is the gators. But there's not one to be found. "Must be too cold," Tetzlaff announces, adding they're probably cozying up under the water.

Not to worry, there's more to see. He shines his flashlight forward and it's off to the porcupine pen. There's a bright red light emanating from what looks like a wooden house.

"I'll grab some peanuts," says Porter, who's become the caboose of the group, making sure there are no stragglers along the way.

The peanuts seem to be the key to the male porcupine's heart. And he easily leaves the warmth of his heated home.

"He's saying, 'I'll be back in a minute honey,'" one woman exclaims in the darkness. "Here he comes!"

For a moment there's silence. Everyone's focusing on taking the porcupine's portrait, so to speak.

That's when Tetzlaff starts with the lessons. "These aren't guys you go and play with," he says. "They back into you — can weigh up to 60 pounds. And those quills, they're not solid."

By this time everyone's eyes seem acclimated to the dark. There's joking and laughing and it's an easy short walk to some antelopes and then African wild dogs.

"Africa — I've been there twice," Tetzlaff tells his troops. Everything out there will eat you."

The dogs behind the fence whine and whimper a little, not unlike a pet pooch at home. But these guys aren't lap dogs, Tetzlaff reminds the group. They're dangerous.

Upon getting deeper into the park, all sounds of civilization are dimmed, besides the occasional landing airplane to the nearby airport. It's the sounds and smells of the wildlife that become as brilliant as the sun and make up for the lack of light.

"Take a deep breath here," Tetzlaff tells the crew. "There's a smell of Fritos in the air."

No, it's not Frito corn chips, or popcorn, or any other snack, Porter says and laughs. It's the resident Binturong — an Asian bearcat — which has thick, coarse, glossy hair and a really long tail.

It's a special gland under the Binturong's tail that produces the strong smelling oil reminiscent of movie snacks, Porter says. But as she spent a few years as zookeeper for one, Porter says she never did get hungry for Fritos or popcorn, as a few of the Night Eyes tour participants do and mention their growling stomachs.

The cute baby sable antelope is the next stop, and a few on the tour ooh and ahh, but Tetzlaff brings them to reality, "These guys will shish kabob you! That's why you give them a wide berth."

Suddenly there's a thunderous lion roar from somewhere in the pitch darkness and a few jump. Tetzlaff again becomes the jokester. "That's my stomach. I missed dinner!"

But the jokester morphs into the teacher quickly as he leads the group to the tiger cages. He mentions how three types of tigers have become extinct. "Three groups of animals, GONE, on our watch."

Yes, he admits that zoos are playing God in a way, breeding what only nature used to do. "But we've been left with this responsibility," he says almost sadly.

The sadness doesn't stick, though, and again he continues, leading his followers to the boat docks where they'll get a view of the monkey islands in the darkness.

"Don't worry about me driving around in the dark," Capt. Chris, another Tetzlaff sidekick says. He turns off the boat lights and exclaims, "Get prepared for your viewing pleasure."

There isn't much to see monkey-wise on this chilly night, however. The water is smooth as a looking glass and the stars twinkle their reflection. There is a curious spider monkey that chooses to play a little game of chicken with the boat and a few others in the trees. But just like humans, the monkeys like to bundle up in the wintry weather. They too are used to the Southwest Florida sunshine, Tetzlaff says.

After the boat ride, things relax even more. The group starts mingling and asking Tetzlaff questions of his life and Africa.

"Just bein' there...There's nothing like Africa," he answers. "I'm fascinated."

There's a fascination here, too, in this faux Africa with the growls and the wilderness all about. It's been an amazing journey with lions and tigers and Asian bearcats. And those on the tour are saddened when it nears the end.

This was the first time part-time Bonita residents Ken and Susan Meyer had come to the zoo. They were so surprised that such a small place could offer such a fantastic experience.

"I can't believe it," Ken says.

Michigan resident Nolan McBride, 14, and his parents, Joy and Steve Glaze took time out from visiting family on Fort Myers Beach just to see what Night Eyes was all about.

"We love zoos," Joy says. "We're zoo people, and we haven't seen anything like this before."

All the praise makes Tetzlaff proud. "Our reputation has grown," he says. "So, we're always looking for something new and unique."

He gets excited again, describing the new reptile show starting in a month or so with venomous snakes and the like.

"It's as much a thrill as working with the tigers," he says.

Soon after it's back to the light and time to return the gear. The lions are left to grumble in the darkness and there's a sadness that the night's all over — until tomorrow morning when the zoo doors open at 9:30 a.m.