Cryptid Conservation

 

For October, I wanted to get us all in the mood for the spooky season and write about cryptids. I wanted to write about the mysterious skunk-ape, or Nessie, or the mothman! However, while our messages are meant to be about education (and learning about cryptids is fun), they are also about conservation. We certainly can’t spread a message of conservation while talking about animals rarely seen and with little evidence of their existence – right?  I ask you to take my hand and trust me as we continue along this haunted trail.

What Are Cryptids

Cryptids are animals that some people believe may exist in the wild, but whose present existence is disputed or unsubstantiated by science. The study of cryptids is called cryptozoology and is considered pseudoscience. For some cryptozoologists, it’s a thing approached with skepticism and whimsy just as much as a seriousness of trying to find “truth” by blending folklore and mythology with scientific methodology.

'Bigfoot' sighting in 1967, filmed by ranchers Roger Patterson and Roger Gimlin.

Some favorite cryptids are Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster; Bigfoot or his global family (Sasquatch, Yeti, Yowie, and Florida’s own Skunk Ape); the part-rabbit part-antelope Jackalope of the West, and the Mothman (who has his own statue). People tell tall tales, go to festivals, write movies, and celebrate these creepy creatures in all kinds of ways. TV shows like “Hunting Bigfoot” have asked people to seek proof of their existence, and the level of skepticism among us ranges from “this is silly fun” to “I have smelt the Skunk Ape myself and I know it’s real.” 

They become a staple in our society featured in children’s books and roadside museums, and are hotly debated – like is Mothman, with his glowing red eyes and long legs, just a Sandhill crane in the dark?

The Mothman statue in Point Pleasant, WV. 

Modern Cryptids

  Let’s look again at that definition of cryptid. A cryptid is an “animal that some people believe may exist in the wild, but whose present existence is disputed or unsubstantiated by science.” For our readers who have been around longer, you may want to scoff at us for publishing an article about mythological creatures, but I want you to consider a modern cryptid. I ask you, is the Ivory-billed Woodpecker not a cryptid nowadays? 

These cartoon-like birds, the largest of the woodpeckers, once certainly flew around the cypress swamps of Hillsborough County. Ages before the land was changed by the timber industry, these birds lived throughout the southeast United States. They were mythical then, too, when they were called the Lord God Bird by settlers and the Tit-ka by the Seminole. The large birds needed long home ranges to thrive, and after the Civil War the timber industry deforested millions of acres in the South, leaving only sparse, isolated tracts of appropriate habitat. Combined with the large range needs, this became the general understanding of the reason for the population decline of the species. To make matters worse, they were hunted by collectors – rarely for meat, but mostly for study and for taxidermy display. 

Ivory-billed woodpeckers in 1935, by Arthur A. Allen

By the early 20th century, few of the birds remained in the south. And by the time the Migratory Bird Treaty Act in 1921 would have helped protect them from feather-hunters, they were already thought to be extinct. The Lord God Bird wasn’t down for the count yet, though.  There were proven sightings (and killings) of these birds in 1924 Florida, 1932 Louisiana, and despite hunts and best efforts of conservation, the last universally accepted sighting of an ivory billed woodpecker in the United States was made by Don Eckelberry in April 1944, when logging of the tract of land they were living on was nearly complete.

James T. Tanner's photograph of the ivory-billed woodpecker with guide J.J. Kuhn in 1938.

We have not agreed upon these birds since, and for the believers in the persistence and magic of this bird, they are a modern-day cryptid. There are people who make it their calling to search for these birds, to gather proof of them in the cypress swamps of the Southeast – but they don’t have the TV shows that Bigfoot hunters get. Sightings of the Ivory-Billed Woodpecker, unconfirmed by the scientific community, have happened as recently as 2022 – but it’s nearly too late as the USFWS will likely delist the species from protections this year. 

Note for 2025: This article was first published in 2023, that year the USFWS ended up not declaring the IBW extinct, stating “Although the delisting proposal included the ivory-billed woodpecker, the Service will continue to analyze and review the information before deciding whether to delist the ivory-billed woodpecker” (Source) There have been no further updates.

Removing protections from certain species also means removing protections on land where these species live, in many cases. Congaree National Park was founded to protect the IBW; and while that park may live on when the Woodpecker is long gone – what happens to other spaces preserved to protect long gone species?

 

Living Ghosts

While some may chuckle at those who spend their days wading cypress swamps for a glimpse of a bird unseen in decades, many of us travel down dirt roads with our binoculars out searching the longleaf pines for our charismatic friend the Florida Scrub Jay or the imperiled Florida Grasshopper Sparrow in the dry prairie (a habitat growing equally harder to find).  While more people move to Florida each year, these prime upland habitats are targeted for building new homes, shopping centers, and roads.

We’re not so different than the ‘Squatchers, trekking in the heat for glimpses of these birds, particularly rare in Hillsborough County. Seeking other critters puts us in the same predicaments; early morning hikes searching for Eastern Indigo or Florida Pine snakes and striking out each time. Gazing across the scrub of a nature preserve trying to tell if you’re seeing a Kirtland’s warbler or not. The difference, I think, between us and those seeking the Jackalope is small.

a Florida grasshopper sparrow, photo by Mary Peterson

Hopeful Haunts

Let us now consider the size of land a Bigfoot must require, as a large animal, to sustain itself while remaining hidden to man’s gaze. It must be substantial, right? The same goes for the ghost-like Florida Panther. A rare sight, with dwindling numbers, trying to make it in a state with fast cars and not enough room. I think Floridians are beginning to realize that without more land preserved for the Panther and other animals, they will soon be cryptids too, showing up only in stories and never on trail-cameras.

Florida panther and three kittens, photo by Albert Herring

Protection of natural spaces in Florida has been a hot topic lately, and with good reason. That’s where we come in, working hard to conserve acreage in Hillsborough County we are doing the same on a smaller scale. ELAPP, or the Jan K. Platt Environmental Lands Acquisition and Protection Program, has conserved over 63,000 acres of environmentally sensitive wildlife habitat and corridors. Combined with other nature preserves and our Conservation Parks, these lands provide critical space for threatened and endangered species to continue thriving and a blend of passive and active recreational opportunities for people to enjoy.

Interestingly enough, there are people who think there may be a Bigfoot that roams some of our parks, so perhaps we’re succeeding.

We hope that our efforts to conserve land in a rapidly expanding area of Florida will help prevent the Florida panther, the Florida Scrub jay, the Grasshopper sparrow, the Eastern Indigo. Our goal is so many other species wont become a ghost in the swamps like the Ivory-billed woodpecker, but will instead be vibrant symbols of Florida’s future.

A sandhill crane (and possibly Mothman?) photographed by Laurie Gordon.