In NATURE’s Crime Scene Creatures, we meet a specialized breed of scientists called forensic entomologists who study the insects associated with a human corpse. Though their work may seem less than glamorous to some, they are in fact vital members of criminal investigative teams.

NATURE caught up with Dr. Lee Goff in his office at Chaminade University in Honolulu, Hawaii and asked him to share a little about the fascinating world of forensic entomology.

Please tell us a little about your role in forensic entomology.

Forensic entomology is actually any interaction between the insects and the legal system. This may involve stored product contamination, nuisance problems, structural damage (termites, etc.), and medico-legal. I work within the medico-legal or medico-criminal arena. In these cases, about 98 percent of the work involves providing an estimate of the minimum period of time since death through analyses of insect activity on a body.

Q: What led you to choose the field as a career?

My original training was in marine biology. I shifted to entomology more or less by accident. Due to a misprint in the local newspaper, I applied for the wrong job! I thought I was applying for a technician position in marine biology at the Bishop Museum, but was actually applying for a position in entomology. Since I was putting myself through college at the time, I went for the paying position.

My shift to forensic entomology took place over 25 years ago. I was attending the meetings of the Entomological Society of America in San Diego. I had come to the meetings for an early paper and, when I arrived, discovered the paper had been canceled. Not wanting to walk back to the hotel, I went into the session in the next room, where Dr. Lamar Meek (a pioneer in forensic entomology) was giving a paper on one of his cases. I became interested and started exploring the possibilities in Hawaii. It took a while. The combination of basic science with practical applications was what originally attracted me to the field — plus the fact that I’ve always been a little strange. That combination still remains.

Q: At what point are you usually called onto a case?

In Hawaii, I am typically called to the scene as soon as it is discovered and determined that entomological evidence is involved. I go to the scene and begin my examination and collections there. Typically, I also go to the morgue to make additional collections and observations during the autopsy procedure. If the case is on the mainland, I am often contacted while the scene is being assessed and talk the investigators through the process.

Q: How important is it that you collect your data before a body has been moved?

If the body is moved before collections are made, you can lose significant evidence. The insects will leave the body or move to a different part of the body.

Q: Could you describe the materials and methods you apply to your work in the field?

I have a basic kit that I’ve assembled over the years that is small enough to stay on my motorcycle. This includes all of my basic collecting equipment, a net and containers to transport the specimens. My work in the field consists of examination of the body and the surrounding area for insect evidence. Generally, I begin with the upper exposed surfaces of the body and then, as the body is moved, I look at the lower surfaces and then the substrate. I do not remove or otherwise disturb clothing during these examinations so that other types of evidence will not be disturbed. For the immature species, I split my collections into two lots. One lot is fixed and preserved at the scene in order to stop the biological clock. The other is placed into a rearing container to allow me to rear these specimens to the adult stage in the laboratory for a positive species-level identification. Many times the adults are easy to identify but the larvae are indistinguishable. Collections are made from all different areas of the body and surroundings, and these are all kept separate. I also make collections during the autopsy procedure. In the morgue, I can spend more time going through clothing for species I may have missed in the field. Examinations of the internal tissues and wounds may also yield species of major significance to the final analyses.

Q: Could you describe how you work with other forensic scientists to piece together a case?

I provide only one piece of the puzzle that is the crime. Others work to provide other pieces. We typically work independently, each on their own area of expertise. Generally speaking, I do not solve cases. I only provide analyses of the evidence. I leave the solutions to law enforcement. Forensic workers who decide they will solve the case based only on their piece of evidence frequently become part of the problem and not the solution.

Q: Approximately how many cases have you taken on?

The number of cases per year varies, depending on the homicide rate and what is done with the body. Generally, I work between 10 and 20 cases per year. Hawaii has a very low incidence of violent crime, so my cases are fewer than if I was based on the mainland. To date, I have presented opinions on over 300 cases and consulted on more.

Q: In general, how do you judge the success rate of your work?

A success rate is a matter of opinion. I do not judge by convictions but rather by completion of my analyses. I work to provide an unbiased, objective, scientific analysis of the evidence. When I’ve been able to do this, I have been successful.

Dr. Lee Goff

Q: Where do you see the field heading?

The field is expanding into areas we had not thought possible only a few years ago. Our research is becoming more detailed, and advances in technology are necessitating a reexamination of many previous studies. Advances in computer technology and DNA research are opening areas not previously considered. We still must remember to stay within the limits of our sciences… Secondly, the flies alter foraging behavior. When a female phorid detects a fire ant worker, she’ll stalk her victim, making the worker run and hide to evade attack. As the ants spend more time avoiding the flies and less time foraging, the entire colony is negatively affected.

Q: Do you find that the popularity of forensic TV programs is generating more interest in the field? Do you feel they do a fair job of depicting the work of forensic scientists?

The recent explosion of forensic shows has definitely increased awareness of the general public and, more significantly, students of the various disciplines in the forensic sciences. Here at Chaminade University, I have observed a phenomenal increase in the students majoring in forensic sciences. I began here approximately six years ago with 15 forensic sciences majors in our bachelor of science degree program. I now have 95 declared majors and another 65 who have indicated they will be declaring forensic sciences as their major. Significantly, these are students of very high caliber who may have earlier been looking at medicine or biology.

The high profile of the TV shows has also increased the expectations of juries. They now expect some type of forensic evidence and almost appear disappointed if they don’t get any. Some people regard this as a problem, but I view it as a positive in many respects. When I began, the jury tended to behave as deer caught in headlights when confronted with scientific evidence. Now they are prepared to hear this type of evidence. If the individuals involved in preparing the cases have done their work properly, they should be able to present this information in a palatable form. In like manner, they should be able to explain the absence of such evidence. As for the reality of the shows, we must remember that they are typically one hour in length and designed to be entertainment, not reality. This includes the “reality shows.” I have worked with the CSI Las Vegas show since the first year. With this group, I have found that they are quite concerned with keeping things within the realm of reality. The time frame is off, but the show is only an hour in length, including commercials. When I have made suggestions concerning my own discipline, they have been more than willing to make appropriate changes.

Q: Are there any general misconceptions about the field?

The most common misconception with regard to forensic entomology is the level of precision of our results. We provide estimates of a period of insect activity on the body and not the actual period of time since death. These are often quite similar, but not always. We begin with ranges in hours, then days, months, season, and, finally, “It’s been there a long time.” This is the reality. If an entomologist states that the “death took place at 3:45 p.m. on the 10th of June, 2006,” you might want to consider that you actually have a potential suspect! The entomology cannot give you those types of results. On the other hand, it can be close enough to establish or destroy an alibi.

Q: Does it take a certain kind of person to handle this kind of work?

It does require a certain type of individual to deal with this work. I guess the bottom line is that you do need to be a little weird to go into this field. At least, that’s what I tell my students. I also tell them that being a little weird is actually a good thing. The successful individuals will develop a somewhat strange sense of humor. This is a defense mechanism that works quite well, even though to those outside, it may seem callous. Underneath this, there is still a sense of compassion.

Many people think it is great when watching from a distance, but find that the reality is not for them. We do willingly go to situations and deal with things that most people tend to avoid. You need an ability to detach yourself from what you are working on at the time. If you allow yourself to become involved in what happened to the individual or what their last moments of life were like, very rapidly you lose your objectivity. Once this happens, you consciously or unconsciously begin to become an advocate for the victim. If your work is to be meaningful, you can only advocate for the truth regardless of where it leads.

To a certain extent, I’ve found a way to remain a small child. When we are small, we are encouraged to wonder about things and turning over rocks to see what’s underneath. Then we reach a point where society tells us to “grow up” and stop turning over rocks. By working in science, I’ve found a way to continue turning over rocks and wondering what is underneath. Of course, I really don’t turn over many actual rocks these days. I turn over other things, but the idea is about the same — although I’m a little more detailed in my actions. There is a benefit to society in what I do.

Q: Do you ever have nightmares?

I do have nightmares on occasion, but not dealing with my work. These generally involve my in-laws moving in permanently or my children deciding to come back home. I used to have one in which I became an administrator. My worst is where I sell my Harley and buy a car. Fortunately, these are all quite rare!

Q: What do you enjoy most about your job?

I enjoy the challenge and unpredictability. These go with forensics in general. No two crimes are alike, and you have a constant change in data and approach. No two days are alike. I can become so lost in the complexities of the interactions between insect species and the body and each other that I can almost forget what I am actually working on. I also like the idea that I am, in some small way, making for a somewhat safer world.

NATURE’s Underdogs takes us into the lives of two troubled canines and the trainers who helped them reach their full potential as the intelligent, able working dogs they were bred to be. NATURE asked the film’s associate producer, Aidan Woodward, to give us a behind-the-scenes look at the making of the production.

How did you go about choosing the dogs and the trainers that were featured in Underdogs?

The selection process was tedious. When making any program, you have to weigh many factors, such as a person’s personality, character, and their ability to express him or herself, as well as their genuine skills and potential for success. In the case of choosing dogs for the show, those factors are more difficult to determine because the candidates cannot speak.

Initially, the advice of behavioral experts, historians, and biologists helped to identify the breeds of dog that would be visually interesting and comparably different to one another. Once we had narrowed down this breed “wish list,” we started the time-consuming work. Two months of persistent e-mails, [phone]calls, and visits to every dog shelter in the U.K. and bloodhound shelter in the Northeastern U.S. rewarded us with about 10 canine candidates. These were further narrowed down according to their personal story, desperation of their situation, and [our] overall impression [after] having met the animal. Herbie, the beardie, and Holly, the bloodhound, had sad stories of abandonment and both were facing an unknown future with no likely sponsors in sight.

The crew films while Holly tracks her target.

Finding the trainers was easier. Once we had located our potential dogs, we followed a logical trail to the doors of as many breed-specific trainers as possible. Availability was a high priority on our list because the undertaking we were hoping to film was not a part-time commitment. Ten candidates were swiftly narrowed to two. Barbara Sykes (collie trainer) and Larry Allen (bloodhound trainer) have very impressive credentials as well as being caring, committed, responsible, fun-loving individuals whose knowledge of their chosen breed is second to none. We were exceptionally lucky to have found these two inspiring people.

Was it difficult to witness so many dogs in need?

It was difficult visiting the dog shelters because often we were led into the canine equivalent of Death Row. Cage after cage contained a dog with a heartbreaking tale of neglect and abuse. Leaving them behind was hard, and I have nothing but admiration for the people who work in such emotionally challenging places that make every effort to provide a bit of love, care, and attention wherever possible to such dogs in need.

What was a typical shooting day like?

Making any film requires time. When making an observational film, the time factor is doubled. On any given day, we tried to start filming when the trainer and dog woke up and finish when the dog went to bed. We always listened to the advice of the trainer and based our filming on their predictions of what would happen during a particular period of training. My memories of filming Herbie and Barbara are of being on the windy moors in the north of England. Herbie raced after sheep in a circle around us. The filming was contained in one field, which meant we could try to predict what he might do and where he might go. After a few hours, we would retreat to the cozy kitchen where Barbara would feed us bacon sandwiches and tell us how she intended to encourage Herbie to improve.

My memories of Holly and Larry always make me laugh. Filming would be a smooth process until Holly caught the scent she was supposed to be tracking. Ten times out of 10, she would drag Larry off into the undergrowth while we tripped over our equipment in an effort to keep up with her. It took weeks of practice before we finally were able to keep up with the dynamic duo as they raced through fields, trees, rivers, and parking lots.

Did the stories evolve the way you hoped they would?

I can honestly say that the overall structure of how the program turned out was quite close to our guesses before filming. Training times between breeds to achieve completely different tasks vary greatly. We knew there would be ups and downs — in fact, we hoped for as many difficult and challenging scenes as possible to make the journey our goal rather than the destination. We didn’t mind if the dogs did not fully succeed in their respective tests at the end of our filming because we knew that [they] had homes for life.

But I must say, I was amazed at how well Holly the bloodhound took to her training. Watching the look on the faces of the Massachusetts State Police when she ripped their test course apart was fantastic. We felt like proud parents!

In the film, we follow Herbie and Holly for 12 weeks. How did you decide on that time frame? Were there any concerns that it wouldn’t be enough time to see a marked difference in the dog’s behavior?

The time frame was determined by two factors — the trainers themselves and the budget for filming. The average novice bloodhound can achieve a certain level of competence after eight to 12 weeks. A novice beardie, however, requires years of attention. Working with sheep or tracking a scent are skills that require completely different training approaches and, therefore, should not be judged in parallel on achievements made during a set timescale. Barbara’s success with Herbie was phenomenal considering she only had 12 weeks to turn a sheep muncher into a well-behaved farm dog. The only reason he underachieved at the final test was because he simply wasn’t ready for such a huge change in variables — new sheep, new people, and new environment thrown at him all at once.

How did the dogs react to the camera and crew?

We knew the crew for this show had to be small. We didn’t want to spook the dogs by having an army of people fussy about them. For this reason, we multi-tasked. I acted as associate producer and sound recordist, while Karen Walsh operated the camera and directed. The trainers were comfortable being shadowed — [after] a day or two — at least that’s what they told us.

[Since] so many new variables were being presented to the dogs in their new home environments, we figured two more people would make little difference. Sure enough, the dogs treated us as familiar friends. They knew our scent and behaved as normally as could be expected.

We often worried that our filming might cause the dogs to lose concentration and want to play instead of work at the vital moment. During Holly’s final test, we ran ahead of her in order to film her entering a cornfield where the trail had been set. Following the scent perfectly, Holly ran along the side of the field toward us. We were terrified that she might overshoot the entry point because she wanted to say hello to us. Nonetheless, we had to carry on filming. For a few unbearable seconds, she stopped in her tracks, wagged her tail at us, and then charged off into the cornfield at the exact entry point.

Did anything happen off camera that you wish you’d caught on film?

Our main worry with the filming process was a question of being with the right dog at the right time. We wanted to film their “eureka” moments of change rather than read about what we’d missed in the journal [that each trainer kept.] At one stage, Larry told us he tried to do a routine clip of Holly’s nails and she practically tried to bite his arm off. We were upset to have missed that scene, so we asked him to tell us what happened in an interview, but it just wasn’t the same.

Did you find that the dogs could distinguish between work and play? How did the trainers handle that?

My impression is that dogs do not know they are working. They are following instinctive behavior passed down in their DNA. Trainers harness this behavior and refine it in order to achieve the desired end. Much of the training process exploits the play drive in the dog. As a result, you could say that play and work mean the same thing to a dog.

I would qualify this, however, by mentioning that dogs can pick up on the stress and adrenalin levels of their trainers. Larry would often say that his bloodhounds know if they are doing a practice scent trail or a real manhunt because they can feel the tension from the handler traveling down the lead itself. He often observed that his dogs would be pumped up for a real manhunt in a way that wouldn’t be so apparent during training sessions. Larry tries to help his dogs focus on work by using the exact same set-up rituals and vocal commands every single time he wants them to follow a scent. He buckles up the dog, gives it the scent in a bag, and then shouts, “Get to work!” From these repeated actions, the dog understands that scent trailing is the task at hand.

Likewise, the stress in body movement, decision making, and in the voice of a sheepdog trainer has a great effect on the dog’s behavior. But this is often too subtle for the layman to notice. Barbara would say that any self-respecting sheepdog just doesn’t want to play with a ball. They are so motivated by rounding up sheep that any other activity is pointless in comparison.

Can you give us an update on the latest successes of Holly and Herbie?

Herbie is fitting in very well to life on the farm. Barbara uses him to help teach novice trainers how to work with sheep for the first time. Because he is such a handsome beardie, Herbie is always popular with her clients.

Holly lives with her new handler, Sgt. Bruce Hirons, in Massachusetts. She has a little terrier dog as a brother at home, and we are waiting to hear about her first manhunt success.

Has the project made any lasting impact on you?

Having watched experts in action, I realize that no dog is bad. It is always the inexperienced, disrespectful, often over indulgent human owner that creates a dog with emotional and psychological baggage. Dogs become confused, insecure, and wayward when our behavior is inconsistent. We often ignore a dog’s action one day then tell the dog off for doing the same thing another day. No wonder people complain that their dog doesn’t know how to behave! Dogs need to be understood as dogs, not humans. At times of training, the experts know how to treat a dog as if it is a dependent member of the pack. As a consequence, the dog clearly understands its place and feels secure.

Do you have a dog?

I don’t have a dog because my work takes me abroad for long periods. But when I finally do get one, it might just be a bloodhound.

Born and raised in Houston, Texas, Ken Bradshaw started surfing at the age of 13 at Surfside Beach, Texas. Searching for better waves than those found in the Lone Star state, Ken moved to California in 1969 and by 1972 was ready to attempt the big waves of Hawaii’s Sunset Beach. Ken mastered big-wave surfing on Oahu’s North Shore, not only at Sunset, but also at the legendary Waimea Bay. Through the late 1970s and early 1980s, he gained nicknames like Ken Kong, The Shaw of Sunset, and Planet Crusher. His first of many big victories in professional surfing was the ABC’s Wide World of Sports Duke Kahanamoku Surfing Classic in December, 1982.

On January 28, 1998, Ken rode the biggest wave ever surfed — a colossal 85-footer — on the North Shore of Oahu, Hawaii, at an outer reef known as Outside Log Cabins. He also rode another 20 waves between 40 and 65 feet to solidify this date as a historic one in surfing. In December 2001, NATURE Online spoke to Ken about big-wave surfing, including his record-breaking ride.

Most people would see a 25-foot wave and run in the other direction. What is it about surfers that make them want to ride big waves?

Well, not all surfers are big-wave surfers. Those who are have a certain passion and a deep desire to challenge themselves by surfing waves of that magnitude.

January 28th, 1998 was an important day in the history of surfing. Can you share with us what that was like?

That day represents the culmination of 25 years of desire and observation. For three years prior to 1998, we had been experiencing increasingly large swells. So over a period of time, we kept learning how to surf better on bigger waves and by 1998, we were ready for the challenge of a 40-foot wave. On Super Bowl Sunday — the Sunday before Wednesday, January 28 — we got really big 35-foot waves. We still had not seen a 40-footer, but knew that the swell would come. Then something happened that’s only happened 10 times or so since I’ve been in Hawaii, and that is that Waimea Beach closed out — that is to say, waves spanning the half-mile wide beach started breaking all at once, which means that they’re just massive.

Ken Bradshaw

In the show you talk a little about your relationship with the ocean. What is it about the water that’s so gratifying?

The ocean represents balance in my life. I get frustrated with the daily struggle of my “real life” out of the water, and being in the water in the surfer world is the antidote to that.

Why are larger waves so much harder to surf? Is it because it’s difficult to catch up to the speed of the wave?

Before the advent of tow-in surfing, in which surfers have the benefit of the aid of a personal watercraft helping them catch waves, we couldn’t match the speed of these big waves. This “unridden realm,” as we called it, was unsurfable — we didn’t even talk about the possibility of riding these enormous waves in the 1960s and 1970s. In the 1980s, we began to talk about it and figure out how it might be done, and in the 1990s we actually began to do it. What made it even possible to talk about was the development of stand-up personal watercraft in the mid-’80s. These weren’t very powerful, but when the true personal watercraft came — the sit-down kind — this was really the event that allowed us to surf the kind of waves we had only dreamed and talked about before.

You began tow-in surfing in 1995. Was there initial resistance to this new kind of surfing?

Yes, there was. But once photos were published for the first time in a surfing magazine showing tow-in surfing, it became more valid. Personally, when I first started doing a few tow-ins, I discovered that the boards we were using — 10 and a half and 11 feet long — were really slow and big and clumsy. So we started to use shorter boards — first 9 feet, then, the next year, 1993, some used a 7-foot, 2-inch-long board. It changed our whole perception of how to surf big waves; instead of merely riding the waves, we could turn and go much faster.

Can you describe what happens to your body and mind when you wipe out?

To get beat up by a wave, survive it, and get up to do it again in the space of 15 minutes is as much about physical conditioning as it is about mental toughness. There’s no way a lay person could ever understand what it feels like, but if I were to describe it I would say that it feels like getting hit by a car, a soft car, and then spun around in a washing machine. This all happens in complete darkness, so that once you stop spinning you’re presented with the challenge of finding your equilibrium and figuring out which way is up. Not to mention the pressure change: You can be pushed from the water’s surface 50 feet down in less than a second, which is a pressure change of two atmospheres. If you survive the pounding of one wave, you can be hit by a second one in less than 20 seconds, and then a third can pull you down into what we call a “triple hold.” Getting held underneath the water by three waves is probably the maximum that a person can take and still survive. I’ve only known two people who successfully negotiated a triple hold. After that, you’re out of luck.

Is surfing a sport that the “Average Joe” can do? How many years does it take until one can surf the North Shore?

Not really. It takes about 10 to 15 years for a regular surfer to become proficient enough for true big-wave surfing. It doesn’t just happen overnight, but it is a gradual process of starting with small waves, then trying to surf in Hawaii, first at Sunset Beach and then moving up the ladder to Waimea, and then, finally, the outer reefs. You’ll find that most big-wave surfers are in their late 20s or early 30s; younger surfers just aren’t experienced enough to ride the big waves.

Rom Whitaker is a reptile conservationist who has spent the past 40 years conserving the most endangered crocs. Rom was on his way to Ethiopia in search of yet more supersize crocs when NATURE caught up with him to “talk crocs” in January 2007.

Q: What is it about crocodiles — and especially supersize crocs — that draws you to them?

A: As a kid I was hooked on dinosaurs. To me, the living reptiles became the next best thing. It was only natural that when I got older I entered the field of herpetology. While, to most people, crocs seem huge and dangerous, I could not help being sympathetic towards them as they were so vulnerable. Humans with guns could wipe them off the face of the earth. And I try to do my bit so the animals don’t disappear. The big ones are/were especially targeted by the hunters over the centuries and that is why there are so few left anywhere in the world of any species. The presence of huge crocs represents the lack of disturbance caused by humans to that habitat and perhaps that is what I’m really looking for.

Q: Do you remember your first encounter with a crocodile?

A: As a teenager I was an avid fisherman. I was 15 when I encountered a crocodile in Powai Lake in Bombay. It was night and I was looking at the float with a flashlight when a croc appeared. It was probably about 10 feet long but seemed bigger. The mugger crocodile came close to me, within touching distance, and we looked at each other in the eye before it disappeared. That eye contact stirred something inside me.

Rom Whitaker

Q: Have you had any close encounters with crocs?

A: I have had hundreds of close encounters because of the amount of croc work I did in Papua New Guinea (PNG), Mozambique, Indonesia, etc. Iíve had to capture lots of crocs to measure and estimate the population structure. One particular incident stands out. Late one night I was doing a survey in PNG. We were catching small crocs, sexing (to find out the sex), marking and releasing them. For this kind of work we preferred an inflatable boat. The boatman would drive straight to a croc which I could catch and flip onboard. We had already done several that night when the boatman gunned the boat towards a croc and I grabbed it. It turned out to be a lot bigger than we had estimated. It was about six to seven feet long and I couldn’t handle it on my own. In the process of letting it go without getting bit, it gashed the boat. We managed go ashore before the boat went under.

Q: What are the biggest misconceptions people have about crocs?

A: People see crocodiles as huge, voracious, bloodthirsty, man-eating killing machines with insatiable appetites. Although crocs have a complex social life, they are in reality simple animals with small brains that are incapable of complex emotions. They are incapable of feeling anger, happiness, vengeance, etc. People have a similar attitude to snakes too.

Q: What do you hope viewers of Supersize Crocs get from the show — what message do you hope they take away with them?

A: For the people who are more aware of nature I hope they realize the importance of crocodiles as top predators of aquatic ecosystems. For the others, I hope they grow to appreciate these awesome creatures and I hope my fascination, empathy and admiration for these animals rubs off on them. In a little way this may help the crocs from being wiped out.

Q: Do you expect that finding supersize crocs will be easier in years to come? Or will we lose them entirely?

A: They’re likely found in some isolated places where the value of crocs is appreciated both ecologically as well as an economic resource, like northern Australia, and Lake Chamo in Ethiopia. In such areas tourism (to see a living dragon) could promote the continued existence of these huge reptiles.

Q: What’s your next croc-related project?

As co-chair of the Gharial Multi-Task Force, I have been working with other conservationists and organizations such as WWF to save the gharial, a unique long snouted crocodile found only in India and Nepal. The tremendous pressures on our river systems is going to wipe out all river dependent animals like river dolphins, otters, water birds and the gharial if something isn’t done. To this end, we are campaigning for better enforcement of gharial habitats, winning the local people over by providing them with alternate means of earning a living and so on.

I’m also working in Lake Chamo, Ethiopia to create a better management policy for crocodiles. There are poor people from six tribes living on the banks of the lake who exploit the fish resources. I’m currently exploring ways of promoting croc ranching, and tourism so these people can be directly benefited so they realize the value of crocs.

Q: Do some people have a hard time understanding your mission to help crocs?

A: Of course. Reptiles always get the worst end of the stick. They do not have the cuddle-factor that mammals and birds have and that works against them. One has to suspend the traditional ideas of cuteness when relating to reptiles!

Q: Have you found your supersize croc since the filming?

A: No. While on the project in Ethiopia I’ll be on the lookout for that 20 footer.

Animals Behaving Badly filmmaker John Rubin is president and producer/executive producer of Rubin Tarrant Productions (RTP). He is an Emmy Award-winning filmmaker who turned to documentaries after completing his Ph.D. in cognitive science at M.I.T. in 1986. Rubin was a member of National Geographic Television’s Natural History Unit from 1993-1997. NATURE Online spoke with Rubin for an insider’s view of Animals Behaving Badly.

What gave you the idea to film animals being naughty?

I heard a story about monkeys in Thailand that would wait outside a 7-11 for kids to come out holding Slurpees. And the monkeys would actually mug the kids by coming up to them and making threatening faces, or worse. And so most of the kids would immediately drop their Slurpees and run, and then the monkeys would take the food around to the back of the store and enjoy it at their leisure. So this story, which by the way never ended up in the film, got me thinking about how rare it was for animals to actually win out in a conflict with people. And that led me to the story of Animals Behaving Badly, which is a look at what species need in order to survive near humans.

Do they have to become more like humans in order to survive?

In a way, that’s true: the species that seem to win out are generalists. They don’t have picky tastes about food, they aren’t picky about where they sleep or den, they tend to be fast breeders, and they tend to be very smart. Many of those are qualities we share with them.

So we’re teaching them to be more like us?

Well, I don’t know about teaching them to be more like us, but those that prevail — and that’s certainly a minority of species — are those that share a number of qualities with us.

Were there other anecdotes besides the monkeys in Thailand that you heard about but were unable to include?

We had a long list that we were pursuing. I was interested in a story about pickpocket monkeys in Bali, Indonesia. Those are monkeys that have been trained by their owners to pick the pockets of tourists, and then I decided that those weren’t really central to the story because those were actually corrupted by human instruction rather than following their own instincts.

[Another story was about] condors near Santa Barbara. A guy named Les Reed heard a crashing noise upstairs in his house; he was working in the basement. When he went upstairs, he found more than one condor in his bedroom. They had torn open the screen door, and the condors were shredding his bedroom, tearing up his mattress and laundry! And when he arrived, they just kind of stared at him. They’re very large birds. But we didn’t know how to get that on screen, or how to depict it, so we let that one slide. But that was very odd to me, that condors would be so bold and curiously aggressive. It could be that these were condors that had been hand-raised and reintroduced, and had some habituation to people. That was very odd.

Also, a filmmaker friend of mine had managed to capture black bears who were ripping laundry off a laundry line and then rolling around in the fresh laundry. They couldn’t figure out why they were doing this, or what to make of it, though!

How did you discover the various different situations depicted in the program? How did you find the marauding stone martens, the bears, or the skunk in San Francisco?

The skunk in San Francisco was something I heard about through my associate producer, Sarah Werner. The story actually takes place in her parents’ house. As we were discussing and researching the film, she mentioned that her parents’ home was regularly invaded by skunks that entered through the cat door. So it was actually her father who set up the video camera very patiently night after night and helped us capture the skunk invasion and the raccoon invasion.

Was the skunk that came in during the dinner party a stunt skunk, or was it a real invader?

The skunk was a re-enactment of the story that Christian Werner tells that we weren’t able to capture, but the raccoon entering the cat door in the garage was captured in his house by the patient setting up of a video camera night after night. I asked him to set up the camera in the garage aimed at the door and just set it rolling, and it had an hour of tape in it. So by just setting it rolling for an hour every night as he went to bed, we quickly caught the raccoon entering. That was good.

You must be very brave to film a skunk. How do you deal with an animal that, if he gets frightened, might spray the entire crew?

Yes, and actually, the skunk we used in that re-enactment was not a de-scented skunk, I believe, so why we weren’t sprayed, I don’t know! We actually filmed that re-enactment in Anne Tarrant’s house, and when her husband came home, he did detect a funky aroma, and I think we are no longer invited back for animal re-enactments.

Back to the question of how we got a lot of the footage: it came from very extensive research, talking to lots and lots of people we knew. Just as one example of how we found footage, the ravens in Yellowstone Park: I found out about that by asking a filmmaker friend named Bob Landis if anything came to mind on the subject of animals behaving badly — that is, exasperating behaviors that are triggered by human proximity. And he told me about this sequence that he had filmed in Yellowstone. We had probably hundreds of conversations like that, asking people who spent time with animals for stories they’d heard of or experienced.

Which was your favorite sequence?

My favorite was the Canada goose story.

Yes, the “Tao of poo.”

Yes, I can’t believe that stayed in! That was fun. It’s also a very current and big story, because Canada geese are invading any possible green space in huge numbers. I guess what I liked about it was the superintendent of the golf course, who was this poor beleaguered man who was trying to keep his golf course running. And he tries one thing after another to get rid of the geese. He tries fireworks and firecrackers; he got a toy boat from Radio Shack and chased the geese around in a water hazard, and the geese hardly reacted! And then the ultimate solution that we pointed him toward was the use of border collies.

So you actually suggested that?

Yes. He had heard about it independently and knew of this woman and her dogs, but they hadn’t gotten together, so we came along at the right time. But it had been on his mind, and we introduced them for this trial run. But lots of golf courses are adopting these dogs, and what’s interesting too is that most border collies are just not fit for work on a golf course because they don’t like to be in the water, and they have to jump in the water to chase the geese, as it’s the first place they go for safety. So I like the humor of the story, and I like the gentle resolution of it, and the fact that the problem is resolved by the exercise of the dog’s natural inclination.

The sequence with the aerialist squirrel: is that just a run-of-the-mill ordinary squirrel, or was it a trained stunt squirrel?

To call it a trained squirrel would be praising the squirrel beyond all reason and ability. We worked with an animal handler who, during the warm months in the northeast, receives baby squirrels that have been orphaned somehow. We worked with her to get a squirrel that was used to having people around and had been introduced to our steeplechase course. So I wouldn’t call it a trained squirrel; I’d call it a habituated squirrel that knew the course and had been introduced to it.

They’re very difficult animals to work with. They’re smart; it’s just that they’re as jittery as they look. I think there are a lot of small thoughts flickering through their heads rapidly. And of course, in filming, what the squirrel was most interested in doing, rather than running the course to get the reward, it was much more interested in jumping off the platform onto the camera and the cinematographer’s head!

What do you consider to be the general message of the film?

It’s actually a pretty gentle film when you get down to it. I think of it more as a film about people behaving badly, and I mean that in the sense that human beings are putting pressure on wild animals by expanding our territory, expanding our domination of the landscape. I hope people take the title in the ironic way I meant it: it’s really about people putting pressure on environments and putting challenges to animals that only very few of them can rise to. I’d like viewers to come away with a greater sense of the impact we have on the natural world, and the fact that very few animals do well when we take over a new neighborhood or a new part of the world. It’s about animals reacting to humans and using their natural gifts to do the best they can with the situation we present them.

What is the next project you’re working on?

I have a film in mind that I would love to be the successor of this: I would like to look at the story of invasive species. In the new film, I’d like to take the same entertaining or sometimes comedic approach to what again is a very serious topic. Invasive species, that is, species that we have brought with us intentionally as we move around the world, or species that have hitchhiked with us without our knowledge from one part of the world to another, have had tremendous impacts on environments.

The story I know best is in Jamaica. That’s a story where the first invader was a rat, and that caused terrible damage, so they thought they would fight the rat with a mongoose, not realizing that rats are nocturnal and the mongoose is diurnal. And so these two animals never met each other, and instead double-teamed the birds that they were damaging!

I think you can serve a serious topic without being really dutiful or gloomy in your tone: my working title for this next film is I’M WITH STUPID.

What would you do if you woke up in the middle of the night and found Earth’s largest land animals trampling your most treasured possessions? If you are a farmer in Northeast India, answering that question is no idle game — it is a matter of survival when a wild Asian elephant herd wanders out of its forest home in search of a meal, stomping through the rice fields that provide your food and livelihood. If you are lucky, the huge invaders are scared away by torches and noise. But the confrontation can turn deadly: Each year, wild elephants kill up to 300 people in India.

India’s elephants are locked in a fierce competition for food, water, and living space with the nation’s fast-growing human population. Over the course of the twentieth century, India’s population has almost doubled to more than 950 million people. In their search for living space, India’s settlers have cleared all but ten percent of the elephant’s traditional forest homelands.

Some Indians, however, have been taming elephants for more than 5,000 years. In The Elephant Men, NATURE follows a venerated elephant trainer named Dr. Krishnamurthy and several of his young trainees, or mahouts, in their travels 1,500 miles from their homes, as they aid a beleaguered village in the northeastern state of Bengal. To get the inside story on the making of The Elephant Men, NATURE Online spoke with filmmaker Harry Marshall.

Harry Marshall: In His Own Words

“In the opening scenes of the film, you see an elephant charging the camera, and then you see some people with torches. That wasn’t set up; all that really happened. If you look closely, you’ll see me run across the camera — with an elephant 20 yards behind me. I was chased by a wild elephant absolutely hell-bent on killing me!

“The villagers had told us not to run. They said, “When the elephants come, stand your ground and face them down, shine your lights at them, and they will stop.” So that’s what we did. And when the elephants came, we stood our ground, and the entire village ran away. We were left standing there. Finally, I said, “Run!” We took off rather too late.

“It was dark. I tripped and fell, and everything went black; then I was surrounded by a kind of golden light that was bathing me from everywhere. For the first few moments, I thought I had died. I was very irritated. But then I realized that I had fallen into an irrigation ditch, and the light was from my camera lamps, which run off direct current and so were still burning underwater. I spent half an hour hiding in the ditch with just my nose poking out of the water and one very angry elephant looking for me.

“At one point, I felt something grab my arm. I was afraid it was a trunk, but it was Alphonse Roy, the cameraman. Now Alphonse is only 5′2″, so he was really on his tiptoes in the water. And the first thing he said to me was, ‘Shall I take a [light] meter reading?’ I thought that was a funny thing to ask.

“Dr. Krishnamurthy is something of a legend in elephant circles. He’s been working as a wildlife vet for over 50 years. He was the inspiration for the whole film. He’d been asked to go to North India to solve the problem of rampaging elephants and capture them. It seemed like an extraordinary thing to ask a retired 70-year-old man to do, but it’s because there is a crisis — and he’s the only man who could sort it out.

“Elephants have been used [as beasts of burden] for centuries. The first recordings of men and elephants working together date back to 3,000 or 4,000 B.C.E. The traditional work of elephants was timber extraction and hauling. It was the ultimate beast of burden, but now there are [few] forests left [in India]. Elephants were once used in warfare, but no longer. Up until the middle of this century, an elephant was the ultimate status symbol. A maharaji might have a stable of 20 or 30 elephants to show off, but these days he’ll have a Rolex watch or a Maserati.

“Elephants have been losing their place in Indian culture, and the number of mahouts has dramatically declined. You have to be careful not to break that golden chain, because the whole tradition is passed down orally. There are no written instructions. The training of elephants does exist in Sanskrit texts that were written over 2,000 years ago, but the mahouts are all basically illiterate. Dr. K is a walking library of elephant knowledge.

“Obviously, seeing an elephant being trained — having its will beaten out of it — is not pleasant. But I’m not there to moralize, I’m there to make a film, and to document what has happened there for thousands of years.

“How long it takes to train an elephant varies. The younger the elephant is, the easier it is to train. The smaller elephants can be done in three weeks. It’s going to take months if the elephant is older and has killed three or four people, like this one very large tusker [we filmed]. He took so long to train that we ran out of time on our schedule and had to leave. Of course, with the bulk of the elephants, the training never stops, because they have an infinite capacity to learn.

“The bond that develops between an Indian and his elephant is as deep as any bond that exists. Dr. K’s relationship with the elephant he called ‘The Inspector General’ went on for 20 years. As he says in the film, after it had been in a fight with wild elephants, he used to stand on its tusks and remove broken bones from its head. The elephant has a grave that Dr. K visits as you would visit the grave of a brother or friend. When I asked how he felt, he broke down. His voice expressed the depth of his emotion.

“Dr. K became a wildlife vet as a freshman in university. Not many people enjoy living in the jungle, sleeping rough. He just took to it like a duck to water. They say that great elephant trainers, great mahouts, aren’t made, they’re born. Dr. K has an intuitive touch with elephants. And thanks to him the tradition will continue. He has many disciples who sit at his feet and hear his stories.

“The population of Indian elephants is rising. In India they can’t just be culled the way they are in Africa, where there are no religious considerations. The skills of people like Dr. K are going to be called upon even more in the years to come. Elephants are going to be used to control elephants. The domestic ones will be used to help control the wild ones. Elephants are peaceful herbivores when they’re left alone. But when a farmer empties a shotgun full of rusty nails into its trunk and the trunk goes septic, that elephant becomes a homicidal maniac.

“There are still elephants living peaceful lives, as they have for millennia. We just came back from South India. We are making a new film with Dr. K called ‘The Elephant Mountain,’ about Anaimalai, which means ‘elephant mountain.’ It’s a place where elephants live in peace. We’re going to observe a wild herd in a pristine setting for a whole year.”

Harry Marshall, the founder of Icon Films, was born and spent his childhood in South India. He received an MA from Oxford University. He was nominated for a Best Director Emmy for his film TIBET AND THE END OF TIME. Currently, he is at work on a series for PBS about the Brazilian Amazon.

Walton filmed in Gabon over the course of an entire year, staying in huts or houses, sometimes camping out. “We spent a lot of time going into the forest to find the mandrills,” he says. The troop featured in the film numbers about 80 animals, but Walton also wanted to capture on film the larger troops, which can number as many as 700 animals. “We saw them very briefly, but were never able to film them,” he regrets.

Still, it was all well worth the trouble, says Walton. “Getting that close to a primate that is so secretive and so difficult to film is one of the most amazing experiences, despite the difficulties. At the end of the day, when you’ve filmed these extraordinary creatures, it gives you a sense of wonder about just how many secrets there are out there in the forests and remote areas that we never even think of.

“It really touches you deep down in your soul. You feel that you’ve entered a world that is special. It might sound a bit corny, but it is absolutely true that you feel you have been privileged to see that world. And you do wonder whether something like that will stay the way you’ve seen it. You hope that we as humans will be able to safeguard it in the end. You feel a great responsibility for that.”