Asian Crisis Takes Bite Out of Crocodile Farm Business

The bumpy dirt road weaving through the sugar cane fields here to Peter Watson’s crocodile farm is well traveled by motorists seeking a close encounter with Africa’s wild side.

Thank goodness for that, Watson says. Crocodile tourism is keeping his commercial farm afloat these days.

“I haven’t sold a crocodile skin since October,” he says. “A large amount of our skins end up in the [Far] East, and the market has dropped off entirely.”

Four hundred miles away in Johannesburg, the economic turmoil in Asia--now beginning its 11th month--has brokers on Diagonal Street grinning with delight. The South African stock market is surging to record levels as investors abandon the troubled Asian economies.

So far this year, overseas investors have bought about $3.6 billion worth of South African shares. Foreign buying is running more than four times ahead of last year’s pace, brokerage reports indicate.

The gloom on commercial crocodile farms here in KwaZulu-Natal province and the excitement in brokerage houses in faraway Johannesburg reflect the schizophrenia that the Asian crisis has inflicted on South Africa.

“On the one side, for portfolio investment, the Asian crisis is resulting in greater interest in South Africa,” says Jenny Cargill of Businessmap, a Johannesburg-based consulting firm that tracks investment trends. “But on the direct investment side, it looks more negative for us. New investment from Asian countries has dropped considerably. Investment from Malaysia, for example, is now nothing.”

Companies that cater to Asian customers are especially pessimistic.

Among the suffering are South Africa’s dozen or so large-scale crocodile farms.

Watson says business has not been this bad since the 1991 Persian Gulf War, when a calamitous drop in international tourism left expensive crocodile-skin handbags, belts and boots unsold in shops from Tokyo to Geneva. The drop in retail sales to tourists glutted crocodile farmers, who were left with skins no one wanted to buy.

“This time the [Far] East has taken a big knock, and since a lot of the end product goes there, mainly Japan, the various tanneries we supply--be they in France, Italy or Singapore--are not getting the sales,” Watson says.

About 7,000 crocodiles lurk in the pools, grassy pens and climate-controlled farm buildings at Crocodile Creek, Watson’s reptilian residence nestled in the subtropical bush near the Indian Ocean.

Visitors can hold a baby crocodile, enjoy a buffet of crocodile ribs, curry and kebab, and buy crocodile purses, belts and key chains. At feeding time, tourists crowd around murky watering holes as crocodile handler Sean Leclus dangles dead chickens over the fences.

“It is amazing what lengths I will go to for good pictures,” Leclus said as he jumped into a pen, jabbed an ornery crocodile with a stick and waited for it to lunge at him.

Such theatrics have always been part of the cover price at Crocodile Creek, but keeping tourists happy has become especially important for the farm’s bottom line.