Wade Davis peered over the yellow tape into the pine woods Wednesday, looking for the gator.
“Where there’s one, there’s gotta be more — right?” he said.
Davis, 39, is one of hundreds of people who have dropped by Betty’s Diner on Bluff Road the past few days after hearing reports of a huge alligator behind the popular Bluff Road restaurant.
The alligator — between 10 and 14 feet, estimates went — climbed a hill from a clearing in some woods about 140 yards back from the road. It then crawled over dry, flat terrain to get within about 30 yards of Betty’s Diner. From that vantage point, the gator no doubt could smell the country cooking — burgers, yams and chicken.
“I check under my car when I go out,” said Betty Mack, 59, the diner’s chief cook and restaurant’s namesake who says her specialty is her fast-selling, secret-recipe, nonalcoholic green fruit drink she calls “Jesus.”
The gator hung out all day Friday.
At times, crowds of people surrounded it, taking photographs and videos, poking it with a stick and even touching it.
State officials came out Friday afternoon. Mack and others wonder why they left it where it was, instead of capturing or killing it.
After that, the gator vanished.
Its disappearance only increased the talk.
Restaurant owner Horace Mack, Betty’s son, put up the yellow tape and “No Trespassing” signs to warn people not to go into the woods.
“We have neighborhoods with children all around here. The gator could get to them,” Betty Mack said.
State Department of Natural Resources officials told Betty Mack they couldn’t do anything with the gator since it was not on the Macks’ property or causing danger to anyone.
In fact, said DNR alligator program coordinator Jay Butfiloski, if an alligator is in its own habitat — where this one was — the department rarely intervenes. Intervening means the department would hire an alligator specialist to remove or kill the creature.
It has to be an emergency situation in which life or property is threatened for DNR to do that, Butfiloski said. An alligator on a road as night falls or an alligator at a schoolyard would probably be an emergency, he said.
“Every situation is different and has to be judged on its own.”
In many cases, DNR gives property owners a permit to hire their own alligator removal specialist if the animal comes back on their property and they feel it threatens people.
That’s what DNR did in this case. It also gave the diner a list of about 70 alligator specialists to call for removal if the alligator shows up again.
That didn’t please Betty Mack.
“They were real nice,” she said, “but they didn’t give us the answer we wanted.”
Butfiloski said alligator attacks on people are exceedingly rare in South Carolina. The state’s 100,000 alligators — which reach as far west as Columbia — attack fewer than one person a year, he said.
Fear of alligators is far more common than actual alligator attacks, he said.
Alligators generally try to retreat with people around, he said. But the reptiles can become aggressive if provoked, or if protecting a nest, he said. He advised people to keep a distance.
“It’s like snakes. The more you mess with them, the more they’re likely to bite you.”
Alligators are usually found near water, but at Betty’s Diner, there wasn’t any water nearby. In fact, for several hundred yards in the woods, it was dry land. A large pond, named Alligator Lake, is about 1½ miles to the southwest.
“Alligators sometimes walk between bodies of water. Maybe that’s what this one was doing,” said Butfiloski.
Neighbors also wish DNR had removed the gator.
Less than a half-mile up the road, at the Eastway subdivision where dozens of children live, residents were worried.
“You want to be concerned about the kids,” said Jason Downs, 42. “It was too big to let wander off.”
Betty Mack says she’ll keep looking under her car.
That’s not because she wants to kill and cook it, even though alligator tails are a delicacy with their taste of fishy chicken.
No, it’s because the gator might find her to its liking.
“If he caught me, he’d probably eat me up,” she said.