When wildlife television pioneer Steve “Crocodile Hunter” Irwin died as a result of a stingray wound to the chest last year the world was shocked. Millions of people, including myself were taken aback due to genuine adoration of a man who single-handedly did more to raise awareness to the plight of wildlife and its habitat around the world than anyone since Jacques Eves Cousteau.

The truly surprising element of this tragic story however was not that Irwin died on camera while filming an episode of his popular show but that a stingray killed him.

On a daily basis he dealt with huge man-eating crocodiles, super-sized constrictors, savage shark species and the most poisonous snakes in existence, but it was a creature not known for its deadly actions that killed this (fatally) risk-taking legend.

Once the story broke and the media frenzy hit, I was inundated with e-mails and phone calls from readers, friends and relatives wanting to know how dangerous stingrays were. One newspaper headline read, “Killer Stingrays on Your Beach!” and several online blogs spoke of a conspiracy to hide the danger of these seemingly insidious creatures by fish and game departments.

So, what’s the truth? Are stingrays really THAT dangerous?

Obviously, interactions with stingrays can be potentially fatal but for that to happen is a super rare thing. The best estimates show there have been around 30 fatal stingray/human interactions in the last 100 years. It’s not an exact number, but it is the one the least scientists disagree with. The reason is that stingrays are typically docile creatures with no designs on attacking humans. Irwin’s death was due to him swimming over the creature and the ray feeling cornered hitting him with its barb directly in the chest causing him to bleed to death almost instantly.

It is very difficult for that to happen.

Take for example, “Stingray City”, a shallow area on the edge of a deep reef on the island of Grand Cayman that for many years has been popular due to charter operators selling stingray encounters. The rays are attracted by food offered by the boats and come in to swim around snorkelers and divers freely. My parents who are both very inexperienced in the water around marine creatures went there while on a cruise and said they had the time of their life and felt completely safe while dozens of huge rays swam right up to them.

Although there have been no major incidents there, business at “Stingray City” has went down dramatically since Irwin’s death. And while that served as a lightning rod over stingray concerns, visitors should be more much fearful of receiving a non-fatal stingray wound in the leg, foot or ankle. Annually around 1,500 anglers and swimmers get hit by rays and deal with the severe pain that ensues.

To start with, contrary to popular opinion, a stingray’s toxin is contained in a barb located (depending on the species) at the base of the body where the tail begins or in the mid tail area, not at the tip of the tail.

“The stinger (usually one, but some species have up to four) is a modified fin spine located at the base of the ray's tail. The spine has rows of incredibly sharp one-way barbs resembling the serrated blade of a knife. The spine is bone-hard, has a pointed end, and can be up to fourteen inches long. When stepped on, the stingray flips its tail forward or sometimes side-to-side when reflexively stinging. This produces the typical injury pattern on the top of the foot or in the lower leg,” said officials with the ReefQuest Center for Shark Research.

“The second cause of injury occurs as a result of evenomation from the stingray. The entire spine or stinger is covered with a sheath, which discharges venom when ruptured. The venom or toxin is a heat-labile (degraded by heating) protein for which no antivenom exists.”

A hit by a ray causes severe problems that can linger for a long, long time. If you don’t believe me, ask Houston's James Andreatos. A couple of years ago I did a story about his stingray saga and to this day he still has reminders of exactly what a ray is possible of doing. While wade-fishing in West Galveston Bay (Texas) near North Deer Island 4 July 2003 with his friend Chris Monk of Austin, stingray safety was actually on his mind.

     
"I was shuffling my feet and me and my friend were talking," Andreatos said. "I told him it would really stink if one of us stepped on ray because we couldn't see in the water below us. There were all of these potholes we kept slipping into, and while shuffling along I slipped into one and right onto a ray."

Andreatos said the ray did not just hit him. It hit him and stayed hooked onto him.

"My whole leg was jerking back and forth and the ray was trying to get loose and finally it popped. Judging from the size of the hole, we figured the ray was about 40 pounds."

Andreatos said at first he was in shock, and then when the toxin started taking effect, it felt like someone had hold of his muscles wringing them like a wet towel.

"The pain was going up through the leg and worked its way into my buttocks and lower back."

The duo was in knee-deep water and he had to crawl more than 100 yards through the mud to get into the boat and eventually to a hospital.

"I'm worried that I might get hit by another one and I'm sweeping the water in front of me,” he said.

By the time they were able to reach a hospital, a couple of hours had passed and the pain was severe: "I was losing muscle function. My arms were shaking real bad and trying to convulse."

When Andreatos got to the hospital, he found that they were not quite prepared for the task.

"I wear a size 16 shoe, and they bring out a pail of hot water barely big enough for me to put my little toe in."

The ray had hit on the ankle, right behind the bone and into the joint cavity. Andreatos was in unbearable pain and his friend had to go find a trash can, line it with plastic bags, and fill it with hot water to try to keep down the swelling.

"They had the nurse boiling pots of coffee without coffee in it. By the time she had made 40 or so pots, I was starting to feel a lot less pain," Andreatos said.

After getting x-rays and a shot of Demerol, the doctor gave him some antibiotics and painkillers and sent him home.

"They said I should be fine," Andreatos said.

Four days later, his leg had swelled to twice its normal size from his thigh down to his toes, and it kept turning colors. He got stronger antibiotics, but the infection kept getting worse. By this time, there was a chance of gangrene settling in, so he sought the help of Dr. Soepher, an infectious disease specialist.

"They had to cut from my calf to the ankle all the way down past the heel. He had to cut 60 percent of the muscle out, and then when he tried to suture the hole, and it wouldn't close back up," Andreatos said.

After multiple skin grafts and more treatment he was eventually, able to get back to walking around normally and back to wade-fishing. These days however, he never goes in the water without protective gear.

"I will not go in the water without stingray boots. I know a lot of guys who will not wear them because they say they are too cumbersome, but if they went through what I went through, they would not go without them,” he said.

Stingrays are coming along the Gulf Coast, throughout the Caribbean and as far north as New Jersey. The most common species is the southern stingray which can grow up to six feet long without the tail. The cownose ray is another common species and they are known for jumping out of the water and “flying” like a manta ray for short distances. If you have ever been wadefishing within their range you have been near stingrays whether you realized it or not.

There is no use having great fear of them, but caution is certainly advised in their domain along with respect for their abilities. Shuffling your feet while wadefishing or playing at the beach is probably the most practical way of avoiding a hit. Yes, its monotonous and tiring, but I know from experience it works.

During my first ever trip to the Chandeleur Islands off the coast of Biloxi, Miss., I was wading back to the boat that was positioned in three feet of water. I remember thinking that shuffling my feet was getting really old and literally as I was about to step (yes, step) toward the ladder of the boat, I bumped a big ray with my foot as I shuffled and it scooted out of the way. If I had stepped on the ray, I would have most likely felt its wrath, but by bumping it with a shuffling foot, it just moved out of the way.

Since then I have been an avid wadefishing shuffler and so far there have been no stingray attacks to report. In addition, I did buy some stingray boots too after talking with Andreatos the first time and learning of his grueling ordeal.

When it comes to having a serrated barb loaded with toxins possibly lodged into my legs, I tend to get a little cautious.

*This article originally appeared in the Sept. 2007 issue of TIDE magazine.

To subscribe to this blog, scroll down on the left side of the page and enter your email address.