Florida woman survives alligator attack in Hillsborough River

“What a beautiful and peaceful morning,” she thought as she looked at the waves on the water.

“Suddenly, out of nowhere, the waves turn into the tip of a giant alligator head,” said Thompson, 46.

It was less than six inches away, far too close for escape. The alligator attacked, sinking its teeth into her right calf, then dragging her away from the shore.

Thompson had lived alongside alligators for years and knew what would happen if one dragged her into deeper waters – the death roll, a move in which an alligator spins rapidly to overpower and dismember its prey. If that happened, as the name suggests, she had little chance of survival.

“I knew this was what was coming,” she said.

It’s a fear that haunts Floridians but is rare: an alligator attack. Official estimates say there are about 1.3 million Mississippi alligators living in Florida. Despite their large numbers, an average of eight unprovoked bites requiring medical attention have occurred each year over the past decade. But as the Sunshine State’s population explodes and residents seek waterfront homes, authorities are warning of an increased risk of conflict between alligators and humans.

Officials with the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission said they are investigating Thompson’s alligator attack, but a report on the incident is not yet ready.

Thompson, 46, moved into her home along the Hillsborough River six years ago. Since then, she and many of her neighbors in unincorporated Hillsborough County, adjacent to Temple Terrace, Florida, have maintained a relationship of “peaceful social distance” from the wildlife around them.

This included Thompson’s six-year observation of a female alligator she calls Sylvia. The alligator had set up camp across the river, where Thompson watched it from a distance, except for one “early encounter” with it. Generally, there was a relaxed atmosphere, with the alligators claiming the relatively wild north side of the river while people stayed on the developed south side, venturing across only as admirers of Florida’s wildlife.

“It’s like National Geographic in our backyard,” she said.

Then, about a year ago, Thompson noticed a large male alligator venturing onto the south side several times before seemingly disappearing. But on June 17, after completing her usual yoga session on her dock, she peered down into the water to see if it was deep enough for her usual splash. She saw the male alligator and decided against it, but instead ended up filming him snatching an opossum carcass from the shore.

The following evening, she was sitting on the dock reading a book when she heard “Sea World-level” splashing, looked over, and saw the same male alligator darting through the water away from her. When Thompson learned from a neighbor that the alligator had a bloody wound on its snout, she assumed he had lost a fight with Sylvia and ran away. She named him Scar because of the wound.

Then came the Fourth of July. Thompson started the day around 6:50 a.m. with a run around the neighborhood to warm up for a 10- to 15-minute yoga session on the dock of her boat dock. She does this frequently because it’s “a great way to center myself.”

With temperatures of 25 degrees Celsius and 93 percent humidity, Thompson was sweating and decided to take a bath before waking her 9-year-old son and 7-year-old daughter to make them breakfast.

“I literally thought, ‘What a beautiful day. I’m going to have a great day with my kids,'” she said.

Then Thompson heard a “slight stirring in the water” and saw a small ripple in her peripheral vision. This quickly developed into an alligator head and an almost instantaneous attack. Scar sank his teeth into her right calf, breaking her fibula.

“It sounded like potato chips,” she said.

Thompson screamed, waking her son in the house. She turned and grabbed the nearest rock, but the alligator yanked her hard, pulling her away from the shore. Thompson remembered Scar’s wound from weeks ago and slapped the side of his snout. He countered by yanking her again, pulling her into even deeper water.

Thompson assumed the alligator would give her one more tug before performing a death roll, which would likely be the end.

“I just screamed and gave everything I had, grabbed his upper and lower jaw and squeezed as hard as I could,” she said.

Thompson felt her leg come loose and kicked the alligator away, throwing herself away from Scar and toward the shore.

From start to finish, Thompson estimated the attack lasted about 30 seconds.

Bleeding profusely, she limped to her shed, grabbed a towel, and used it as a tourniquet. She then saw her son running out of the house toward her with a horrified look on his face. She told him that Mom had been attacked by an alligator and needed his help. She instructed him to open the door, and when he did, she laid down on the floor, going into “shock” from the blood loss.

When Thompson realized she had left her phone in the shed, she told her son and daughter to go get it. Thompson called her friend and her boss, who lives four houses down, and drove them to the hospital. Thompson received medical attention within 15 minutes of the bite.

Doctors feared they would need two or three surgeries and skin grafts to clean, cover and close the wound, Thompson said. But as they began work, they found that while she had a clean break of the fibula and “severe muscle damage,” the alligator had not torn off any skin or severed any important nerves.

Her son offered her encouragement in the form of a handmade “get well soon” card. The front greeted Thompson with an exuberant “You’re not dead!” followed by a drawing of her enlarged mouth screaming as an alligator ripped at her bloody leg. The inside read, “Mommy, I’m glad this happened and not that,” accompanied by two drawings, one showing her being treated by a doctor, the other with her leg severed and her eyes closed.

Thompson was released after four days and is expected to make a full recovery.

State wildlife officials have since euthanized the alligator that bit them. Jay Parrish, the state-appointed alligator hunter who caught the alligator, said it was over 10 feet long and weighed 400 pounds. He advised people never to feed alligators because they don’t fear humans but associate them with food. This can lead to attacks that end badly for the animals.

“A fed alligator is a dead alligator,” Parrish said, adding that people should also keep their distance. “Just admire the beauty of the Mississippi alligator.”

Thompson said it will be a long time before she can go back into the river, but eventually she wants to at least launch her kayak, which will require wading to the spot where she was attacked.

But that’s a topic for the future. For now, she’s focused on being grateful for a bad situation that could have been much worse.

“It doesn’t feel good,” Thompson said, “but when I feel bad about the pain, I just remind myself, ‘Hey, I’m alive! I have a leg!'”