A potential “housing crisis” for crocodiles has inspired one Far North Queensland grazier to build a croc sanctuary on the family farm.
Removals of problem crocs from the wild have been on an upward trend since 2020 and hit a record high last year, according to data from the Queensland government.
Crocodiles can live for more than 120 years in captivity and cannot legally be killed for commercial purposes once taken into captivity.
So, if these trends continue, where will they all live?
Captured reptiles are transferred to crocodile farms across Queensland. (ABC News: Rachael Merritt)
Housing crunch with teeth
Cattle farmer Jesse Crampton has been busily digging out containment ponds and erecting sturdy fences on his property in Far North Queensland for the past year.
The Babinda-based grazier has also worked with crocodiles for more than a decade in zoological, farming and management roles.
He admits building a small croc sanctuary directly next to a herd of big, juicy bovines is rather unconventional.
“Over the years of me working in facilities, I’ve seen that there is a bit of a housing crisis for icons,”
he said.
The “icons” he refers to are crocs longer than 4 metres which, under conservation laws, can only be placed with a registered crocodile farm or zoo that agrees to use them for education about crocodile conservation.
Mr Crampton and his son Dusty watch on as earthworks get underway. (Supplied: Jesse Crampton)
“They can’t technically be used for commercial use, so they can’t be destroyed for farming aspects,” he said.
“So a lot of the croc farms, once they’ve got their stock, they’ve got nowhere to put these large animals.”
Mr Crampton already has one such tenant on the books — a “big icon fella” trapped at Lakefield on Cape York after continually wandering into people’s campsites.
“We called him Kennedy. He’s 4.6 metres long — a real big old boy,”
he said.
“This animal could be 80 years old and survived that commercial shooting era.
“He’d have a few stories to tell — so he was quite a significant animal for us to get for our first crocodile.”
Mr Crampton has cordoned off a section of the broader cattle property to dedicate to his new reptile residents. (Supplied: Jesse Crampton)
Croc removals on the rise
In 2024, a record 77 crocodiles were removed from Queensland waters — up from 48 the previous year.
Already, 37 crocs have been taken from the wild so far this year.
| Calendar year | Crocs removed from wild |
|---|---|
| 2020 | 38 |
| 2021 | 52 |
| 2022 | 57 |
| 2023 | 48 |
| 2024 | 77 |
| 2025 | 37 (as at 23/05/2025) |
“Our priority is to rehome all crocodiles that have been removed from the wild,” a Department of Environment, Tourism, Science and Innovation (DETSI) spokesperson said.
“Every crocodile we have offered to a suitable farm or zoo has been rehomed.
“Only when environmental issues prevent us from setting traps, or animal welfare issues prevent us from being able to rehome them in suitable facilities, crocodiles are humanely euthanised.”
The sanctuary has come a long way since Mr Crampton started digging out pools a year ago. (Supplied: Jesse Crampton)
The department has not yet revealed to the ABC how many have been euthanised in the past five years.
However, not everyone is convinced that the rehoming practice can continue forever.
John Lever has been operating Koorana Crocodile Farm near Rockhampton since 1981 and has billeted more wild-caught crocs than he cares to count.
“They’re going to run out of space,” he warned.
“Farmers can’t just take them all on.
“I caught a big one up near Airlie Beach in Kelsey Creek — that was 4.8m long when I caught it in 1986, and it lived until 2020.
“You get a big croc like that and think it might only live for a few years — and then it lives for another 34 years.”
Mr Lever intended to keep trying to find space for new crocs, but said taking on such long-term tenants was not sustainable.
He predicted a day may come when “hard decisions” must be made between rehoming and euthanasing animals that interact with humans.
“You can pen them in smaller pens and give them all their biological needs — feed them once a week, and give them enough room to turn around,” he said.
“But they’re an isolated animal then.
“They’re just living on their own for no real purpose.
John Lever opened Koorana Crocodile Farm in 1981 as Queensland’s first commercial croc farm. (ABC Capricornia: Alice Roberts)
“There are plenty of them out there, so it’s not an issue of trying to save the last few crocs to get breeding colonies going.
“I just don’t think you can look after every crocodile.”
The Queensland Crocodile Management Plan says Queensland’s estuarine crocodile population is estimated to be between 20,000 and 30,000 “non-hatchlings” — meaning greater than 60cm in length.
Further north at Bloomsbury, Bredl’s Wildlife Farm croc trainer Zebulon Bredl said he had received about a dozen calls in the past month with offers of new wild-caught crocs.
“We’re turning down a fair few,” he said.
“If you take two, you’d be lucky to get one or two females.
“And as soon as those males hit 2.5m, you’re looking at individual ponds because they start fighting.”
Zeb Bredl from Bredl’s Wild Farm at Bloomsbury. (Supplied: Bredls Wild Farm)
Mr Bredl said operators were not informed of a crocodile’s sex before deciding whether to accept it onto their property.
“To do an internal examination they’d have to put a finger in to feel around for a penis,”
he said.
“That’s an added risk — and if they did that, everyone would just hold off and only accept the females for breeding.”
Mr Bredl argued Queensland should follow the Northern Territory’s model of wild egg harvesting to slow population growth.
“We’re nearly full — we’ve got 18 big fellas over 2.5m here at the moment,” he said.
“We can start putting in more infrastructure, but we don’t need it and it’s all an expense.”
Digging, fencing and paperwork
Regulatory barriers to starting a new croc farm or sanctuary would have most people running for the hills — but not Mr Crampton.
“It certainly deflated the bubble a few times,” he said.
“I just kept chipping away at it and jumping through the hurdles.”
The sanctuary will not produce meat or skins, but Mr Crampton has the required permits to pair crocs so fertilised eggs can be sold to commercial breeders.
The facility’s chief source of income will come through group training.
“I’ve been training particularly Indigenous ranger groups to be able to manage crocs, how to handle and how to work safely alongside crocodiles,” he said.
Mr Crampton did not believe his modest operation would solve any future crocodile real estate crunch outright.
Kennedy was the first crocodile to join the sanctuary ranks after being removed from Lakefield on Cape York. (Supplied: Jesse Crampton)
But he was keen to play his part.
“I’ve still got a long way to go with the croc compound, but I’ve got four enclosures up and running, and three crocs at the moment,” he said.
“It’s not going to be a large-scale operation, but over time I might be able to make a dozen enclosures and house some icons.”
And as for the neighbours?
They can rest easy in the knowledge that the barriers are very sturdy.
“I mean in our cane drains and creeks and rivers and all that, there’s crocs — so [the cattle] are pretty croc savvy,” Mr Crampton said.
“But of course I’ve got the crocs on the other side of the fence, so I don’t have too much of an issue.”
