In the Territory, crocs are both an ever-lurking danger and a part of the region's identity
Marrakai Sullivan, 23, Sullivan's daughter, grew up with pet crocodiles and got her first as an adult last year.
She picked out Flint and Donk from the hatchlings born to her father's crocodiles. Only Flint survived past his first birthday.
Living with and raising crocodiles requires an appreciation of their power and their place in the ecosystem, she said.
'It's a great part of being a Territorian,' she said. 'Where else are you gonna get that?'
Flint, Marrakai Sullivan's pet crocodile, at her home in Darwin River, Northern Territory, Australia. Photo / Matthew Abbott, the New York Times
Trevor Sullivan has 13 of the creatures on his sprawling property.
Matthews has four freshwater crocodiles named Gloopy, Jazzy, Destin, and Cyclops, who is missing an eye from a fight.
Horne cohabitates with Zeus, a saltwater native, who he says has tried to kill him twice.
But when undisturbed, 'they are the most relaxed pet, they do what reptiles do – not too much', said Nigel Palmer, who has had Rocko, 21, since he was a hatchling.
Hatchlings, which go for about US$300 to US$400 ($502 to $669) apiece, feed on pinky-fingernail-sized bits of meat.
They require delicate care in the early stages, when they are sensitive to small temperature changes.
As adults, crocodiles take little effort. They eat once every couple of weeks during the wet season and can go months without food in the dry.
'They're easy. You don't walk 'em, you don't wash 'em. They're just there,' said Gaynor King, Matthews' partner.
Marrakai Sullivan grew up with pet crocodiles and got her first as an adult last year. Photo / Matthew Abbott, the New York Times
Pet crocodiles are also allowed in Victoria state.
In the Territory, they are an ever-lurking danger, a major tourist draw, and a part of the region's identity.
They embody the mix of tolerance for risk, healthy scorn for authority, and propensity for solitude that residents relish.
'With Territorians, it's not that they want one, but they believe they should be able to have one,' said Emily Moyes, the general manager at Crocodylus Park, a popular zoo and research centre in Darwin, the regional capital.
Tourists are greeted with ads for crocodile experiences of all kinds as soon as they arrive at the Darwin Airport. Visitors can dive among crocodiles, cruise down a river in their midst and watch them leap several feet out of the water.
Or gaze into their eyes while having a pint – whether it's a real live one, or one made of concrete.
'Every pub here has a crocodile. It's bloody iconic,' Moyes said.
Trevor Sullivan heads out to feed some of the 13 pet crocodiles on his sprawling property. Pet crocodiles are also allowed in Victoria state. But in the Territory, they are an ever-lurking danger. Photo / Matthew Abbott, the New York Times
In April 2024, the Northern Territory Government announced that it would stop issuing licences for pet crocodiles, setting off an uproar. The opposition campaigned partly on overturning the ban – and won.
'Crocodiles are synonymous with the Territory,' the Liberal Party said in a statement in December, reinstating the provision.
Since then, the local wildlife commission has received six applications for permits, which require that pet crocodiles be kept in enclosures that meet strict specifications.
A total of 70 people currently hold licences.
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.
Written by: Victoria Kim
Photographs by: Matthew Abbott
©2025 THE NEW YORK TIMES
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