Matt was right. I had been trying to ignore the nagging feeling that frolicking with a wild animal, especially an endangered species, went against everything I had learned in 25 years of being a conservationist.
Clemons reminded me that the gentle giants can be admired from above the water with minimal impact on the delicate balance of nature. And because manatees sometimes initiate human contact doesn't mean they want it all the time, or that it's good for them. Florida dive shops offering snorkeling with manatees aren't doing anything illegal, but they weren't for me.
I discovered I wasn't alone when I met 20 other paddlers for our three-hour "Do Not Disturb" tour offered several times each winter by the Save the Manatee Club and led by Clemons, a former board member. Clemons operates a similar tour year-round at his Aardvark's Florida Kayak Co., though for this tour he includes more educational information and donates half his proceeds to the manatee group.
"I started these no-touch tours to show the dive shops that you don't have to have dive tours to stay in business. Just look at the whale-watching business," Clemons told our group. "These animals are here to survive, not for our entertainment."
Clemons and the nonprofit Save the Manatee Club, which has 40,000 members and a budget of $1.4 million, preach hands-off "passive observation." While state and federal laws allow humans to touch manatees if the mammal initiates contact, the Endangered Species Act also states that "any activity that alters an animal's natural behavior" is considered harassment and is not allowed. Clearly, there's some gray area on what constitutes harassment.
No-touch proponents have been even more vocal since videos aired on YouTube a few years ago showing snorkelers blocking the path of manatees, separating calf from mother, and even attempting to ride them.
Several on our tour had gone swimming with manatees, but later had a change of heart.
"We went out on a boat with a dive shop the first time we were here, and they didn't even mention rules about touching," said Emily Averette, who with her husband, Harold, has visited Citrus County from their North Carolina home several times in the past decade to see these large aquatic relatives of the elephant.
