KEY WEST CITIZEN (Florida) 03 January 05 Man battles iguanas for crop (Robert Silk)
Islamorada: In Latin, they are called "Iguana iguana," a reptile native to the Caribbean, as well as South and Central America, that has now infiltrated South Florida. Locals know them as the green iguana, the bane of many self-respecting gardeners in the Keys.
For more than a year, "Farmer Ed" Miller — nicknamed not for his gardening skills but for the fact that he once ran an Upper Matecumbe Key fruit stand with produce that he expertly trucked south from the mainland — has been engaged in an epic struggle with the medium-sized reptiles, which have developed a taste for his tomato plants. Now, he thinks he finally has a leg up.
"It is like a contest between me and them," Miller said as he stood next to the tomato planter that he has fortified with wood, cinder block, chicken wire and plastic construction materials. "But this year, I think I have got them licked. I am going to beat them no matter how much it costs."
Miller's battle of wits with the iguanas began in November 2003, shortly after he moved into a home just north of the Safari Lounge in Lower Matecumbe. The house is bordered by an oceanside canal, and it has a backyard that backs up to a small stand of Australian pine. As Miller learned, the water and woods provide ideal habitat for the iguana, and plenty of escape routes as well.
Newly retired, "Farmer Ed," 63, decided to do what a lot of newly retired people do. He planted about a dozen tomatoes and looked forward to their maturation. No more produce trucking from Miami-Dade County for this guy.
But he soon learned that things weren't going to be that easy. One by one Miller's tomato plants began disappearing, sometimes before his eyes, but usually when he wasn't looking.
"We'd put the plants in and we'd wake up in the morning and they'd be gone," said Rae Cavanaugh, 58, Miller's girlfriend. "We must have lost 25 tomato plants."
Determined, Miller and Cavanaugh struck back. They elevated the planter about 3 feet off the ground, thinking that it would be too high for the archaic-looking iguanas to reach. They were wrong.
"One day I was sitting on the balcony," Cavanaugh said. "We had a plant on a pedestal. I turned around for one minute and it was gone. I didn't see anything. The plant was there and then it wasn't."
Miller too was impressed.
"No matter what I did, they beat me," he said. "They are really determined critters. I was amazed at their talent. They jump. They run. They swim."
Miller raised the ante and fortified his defenses. By early this November, he had constructed a wood frame to surround the planter, and he had covered it with wire to keep the hungry beasts out. But it still wasn't working. Iguanas are a resilient bunch. They noticed gaps at the top of the cage and exposed them, much to the pleasure of their palates.
That's when Miller resorted to the chicken wire and the plastic construction material that now encircle and cover the cage. This time he thinks he has the problem solved — at least until the tomato plants grow too tall for their cell.
"We will cherish the harvest," Cavanaugh said, looking forward to a time when she and her lover will enjoy fresh tomatoes on their balcony as they look out over a yard filled with slightly thinner iguanas.
But Miller said he might throw the iguanas a tomato every now and then, out of respect for their worthiness as an adversary.
"I'd be willing to share," he said.
Man battles iguanas for crop

