AUSTRALIAN BROADCASTING CORPORATION 11 January 08 Baby crocodiles hatch at Crocodylus Park (Melanie Tait)
In a small demountable building inside Crocodylus park there lies a green incubator, which looks more like an old fridge than a sophisticated instrument in the life cycle of a crocodile.
Forget the old pints of milk and tired vegetables you might find in an old fridge, this fridge-esque incubator is holding a couple of dozen crocodile eggs, nine newly-hatched baby crocodiles in a dark grey plastic container, and a little crocodile freshly hatched making his way, tentatively, around the shelf of his birthplace.
At first, the baby crocs look cute. So cute that it's tempting to pick one up and stroke its deep green, scaly skin.
Giovanna Webb, the co-owner of Crocodylus Park and the Country Hour's tour guide, gets out the container of baby crocodiles. Some of them are lying still, others are sloshing quietly around in the water. At this stage, there is little evidence of any of the supposed viciousness that makes saltwater crocodiles famous.
Mrs. Webb admits that these baby crocodiles are cute, but they're not to be confused with helpless little puppy dogs.
"Even though these little crocodiles have only been hatched in the last few hours, they're already nipping!"
As if wanting to stand up for their owner's honour, one of the baby crocodiles does just that. Snap!
Suddenly the previously semi-tranquil waters of the container are alive with action. Baby crocs are snapping and trying to spring anxiously out of the container. They also start making a tiny noise resembling a squeaky toy. After only a few hours of life, these reptiles already have attitude.
It's not been easy for the crocodile farm and zoo to breed these new-borns. Unlike breeding chickens, or other species beginning life as eggs, there hasn't been much success breeding crocodiles in captivity.
Crocodile breeding season in the wild is closely monitored and eggs are taken from swamps and wetlands around the Territory where the saltwater crocodiles are keeping nests.
Grahame Webb, co-owner of Crocodylus Park, says that he's been collecting in the wild for 28 years.
"A lot of the eggs are far away and need to be collected by a helicopter, which makes them very expensive. We've been doing this for years, and the only one who's ever been bitten is me.
"Collecting crocodile eggs reminds you of the thin veneer of the modern man. Basically, we've very primitive beings. When the helicopter drops you off in the swamp and leaves you and two other people to go to the nest, and you know the female is there, all the bells are there: you suddenly find your eyesight is better; your hearing is better; your sense of touch is better; you can move really fast.
"It's as though you've gone into a time machine, going back to what humans are really about. When the first humanoid came out of the cave to get a drink from the billabong, he was chased away by a crocodile!"
When the eggs are helicoptered back to the zoo, they're incubated and become the baby crocodiles that have just hatched hours ago. The whole process is being documented from egg to birth and onwards by a small team of scientists at the zoo.
These crocodiles will grow up to be used for the zoo's continuing research into crocodiles and support their business processing crocodile skins.
The crocodiles will eventually be slaughtered in an abattoir on site and their skins will be sold all around the world and processed on site into leather goods.
Baby crocodiles hatch at Crocodylus Park