It was over a decade ago that I first heard rumours about wild crocodiles living in Singapore. There had been reports of occasional sightings in the remaining patches of mangrove that clung to the island’s coast. It seemed implausible that such a mighty predator could survive on the edge of one the planet’s busiest shipping lanes. Determined to test these claims, I made regular pilgrimages to Sungei Buloh Wetland Reserve at the north west of the island. Finally, after many weeks of searching, I spotted two glowing eyes of a Saltwater Crocodile. 

Back then there wasn’t the same interest in wildlife or wildlife photography that now grips Singapore. I usually had the wetlands to myself. My work colleagues thought I was crazy for hunting crocs in mosquito invested swamps. Twelve years later I returned to Singapore and made the mangroves a first port of call. Would the crocs still be clinging to life on the edge of the city state? 

Access to the wetlands had changed. A new bridge carried me over familiar waters with a sense of hope and excitement. I turned left and crunched my way along the gravel track. The air was thick and my ears rang with the drilling whine of cicadas. I soon came across the first sign that crocodiles may still inhabit these murky waters.

The walking track is protected by a low wooden fence on either side. Even so, there is something unsettling about walking close to soupy water where apex predators lurk unseen beneath the surface. The milk tea water was clouded with silt. Logs that pierced the surface from below had the mind playing tricks. That sense of not wanting to get too close to the water, or lean too far over the fence. Then common sense dragged me back. There had not been a single report of a croc attack in Singapore in recent history. In fact, the most serious instance that I had found reported was the devouring of Major General William Farquhar’s dog in the 1820s. An incident for which the poor crocodile paid with his life. Besides, the crocs I had seen in the past had not struck me as being large enough to be man-eaters.

I had walked further along the track when something caught my eye. A shape amongst the flotsam and jetsam that didn’t quite fit. My eyes focused and widened as I realized that once again I had spotted the glowing eyes of a Singapore Saltwater Crocodile. 

This time encounter was not like the ones I had enjoyed in years gone by. The eyes were not the young eyes of a sub-adult animal. These were old eyes that belonged to a huge beast of a crocodile! Slowly the reptile surfaced, revealing a massive head that sloped to a bulbous neck and armoured body, that looked like a piece of the latest military hardware. This wasn’t any old crocodile I had stumbled upon. This was Tailless. 

Tailless is Singapore’s alpha crocodile. He is the largest and most powerful predator in the mangroves, and indeed, excluding humans, the whole island. All the other resident crocs, large and small, know to avoid him at all costs. While he may be the largest by body size, he is not the longest. As the name suggests, Tailless is without tail. There is speculation that he lost his tail in a fight, or perhaps it happened in a collision with a boat propeller, but this, no doubt, horrendous injury does not appear to have impacted Tailless’ ability to command a territory. 

The tide was now high and I walk on, peering beneath overhanging trees and under the black arches of twisted mangrove roots. I passed other people making the same slow walk, studying the same dark areas, desperate to catch a glimpse of one of these awesome creatures. Again, I saw the yellowish orbs with a devilish vertical slit staring back at me. I stopped to take photos and the crocodile did not move beyond the imperceptible movements with the wind and tide. I found myself lowering the camera and just staring back for the longest time. I wondered what, if anything she was thinking. Did she contemplate my presence and our ability to live together in harmony, or did she look at me as a potential meal, ready to lunge if I had crossed the fence?

I suspect neither. The waters around Sungei Buloh are rich and there is an abundance of fish. There are always dead and dying fish caught in the mangrove roots, waiting to be devoured by nature’s waste disposal units – the crocs and monitor lizards. Why use valuable energy taking on large prey when you can fill up on as much fish as your stomach can handle? 

The Saltwater, or Estuarine crocodile, is the largest reptile on the planet. The males are massive animals growing to over 6 meters (20 feet) in length and weighing in at well over a whopping 1,000 kg (2,200 lbs). The females are significantly smaller, often half the size of the males. 

Together with its immense size and ability to remain concealed beneath the surface of the water, the Saltwater crocodile also boasts the strongest bite of any animal on the planet. These attributes make for a formidable predator, but perhaps it is their willingness to eat just about anything meaty, living or decaying, that has allowed them to survive and thrive unchanged for millennia. 

The skin of the Saltwater crocodile is a thing of beauty, created from mottled plates that gave rise to its name. The name crocodile originates from the Ancient Greece, where Herodotus used the words kroke and drilos to create krokodilos, which translates beautifully as Pebble Worm.

Unfortunately this pebbled skin is also one of the most prized skins of the fashion industry. The desire for skin for handbags and wallets, and the market for other body parts for traditional medicine led first to hunting and later to crocodile farming. Singapore became home to many such farms which perhaps allowed for the last of the wild population to cling on unnoticed, and may have supplemented the wild population with occasional escapees. The species was recorded as locally extinct in Singapore in 1996. 

In recent trips to the wetlands over 2022 and 2023 I, and others, have had the opportunity to observe and photograph juvenile crocodiles and even hatchlings. It is thrilling to know that the species, once declared extinct in the country, now has a small healthy breeding population. 

In the post-covid era there appears to be growing interest in wildlife, photography and the outdoor lifestyle in Singapore. Each weekend hundreds of humans head to Singapore’s National Parks in search of wild interactions. This means more people in the domain of the crocodile. There have been several examples of walkers coming face to face with a large croc crossing the track.The low fence is a minor inconvenience for a determined crocodile. National Parks have put warning and advice signage up. It does seems incredible that people need to be asked not to feed a large Salty. 

Visitors to Sungei Buloh Wetland Reserve wanting to see their first crocodile can improve their chances with a little pre-planning. The best place to look for the mighty reptiles is from the main bridge. Low tide is the best time to visit, so a check of the NEA Tide Timetable will improve further chances. 

Choose a day when the sun is shining or at least it is not raining, and stand on the bridge scanning the muddy river banks. If you are lucky you might spot a huge beast hauled up with toothy mouth gaping. Maybe just the yellowy eyes and snout pointing towards the land. On the best of days you might be blessed to see Tailless cruising under the bridge as he surveys his territory.

If all else fails, look for a photographer and follow the direction of the gun-barrel lens. Chances are that there will be a crocodile smiling at the end of the glass.  

I made another trip to the Sungei Buloh Wetland Reserve on a quiet weekday morning. The tide was very low, revealing the full size of Tailless. The huge predator moved past me, half swimming and half walking along the river bed. He was moving up river with purpose. I followed the track alongside him just to be in his inspiring presence and I wondered where he was heading. 

Presently, he turned towards the exposed muddy bank, slowed, before scooping up a huge fish from the shallows. He turned to face me, gripping his prize by the tail. 

I zoomed in on Tailless’ dragon eye which appeared to be looking back at me. We were not particularly close, but he was certainly aware of my presence. Having contemplated me and decided that the fish would probably make for a better meal than the photographer he turned to the bank again, where he devoured his breakfast. 

Having enjoyed a big breakfast it was time for Tailless to enjoy some time basking in the sun before the rising tide once again lifted his massive bulk back in to the water. He settled his grey body down on the grey muddy bank where he melted away in between the roots. Was he asleep or was he watching me through those shiny narrow slits. Just in case.  

I regularly visit the wetlands and always search for the crocodiles. Every sighting brings up the same feelings of excitement as the first. The experience of being in the presence of this apex predator in a safe but wild environment allows humans to enjoy them with a sense of calm awe.

It is a testament to the nation that to this day Salties are not just clinging to life but are breeding in Singapore’s waters. We should never take it for granted that this unique experience is on our doorstep. Preserving and growing the mangroves will ensure that this experience can be enjoyed for generations to come.

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Categories: Asia, SingaporeTags: animals, conservation, environment, Nature, photography, Travel, wildlife