Trappers of the Barataria

Nutria Traditions

Jon and Jocelyn Donlon

Traditional Trapping

Chris Areas with a hide he has just removed from the stretcher

Traditional trapping of fur-bearing animals in Southeast Louisiana has not changed much over the last 100 years. The close-knit community of the Barataria region descends from Isleños, French, and German heritage. Jerry Alfonzo, of Isleño heritage, is an experienced trapper with over fifty years of experience. He speaks of making his own stretchers (small frames for stretching pelts), of skillfully skinning the animals, and of traditional methods of laying traps in water-all knowledge he inherited from his father, who learned from his father. His traps are notched, a method used by owners to identify their traps.

Mr. Alfonzo's discussion of trapping traditions is similar to that of Chris Areas (AH-ree-ahs), a young shrimper/trapper in Lafitte who is continuing the heritage thanks to the state's Nutria Control Program. Chris learned how to trap from his grandfather (though he could've learned from Jerry Alfonzo, who is his uncle). Chris speaks knowledgeably of living off the land and water of St. Bernard Parish. To begin his trapping, he bought traps from older trappers in the region, who had stored them in barrels of water (to avoid rusting) for over 40 years. He uses his father's carrying sack, stretchers, and boards. He has his beliefs about what makes for the best haul-that trapping is better than shooting because "shooting drives the creatures away." Because of the dip in the shrimping industry, Chris is learning to trap to survive, much as the older settlers did. Fuzzy Hertz, a retired pelt trader, said that his father learned how to trap to survive: "The rest of the people was doing it, so he got right in with 'em. Everybody's so friendly that a stranger would come in and they'd help him out, learning the trade." The same language applies to the younger Chris.

Trapping customs depend heavily on the material culture associated with them. Jerry Alfonzo talked of his collection of traps, from the "Gibb trap" that was discontinued fifty years ago because it is a double-spring trap, to the "V.G. trap," his personal favorite. This trap is made by Victor and is a "single spring" trap. He also uses names such as "jump trap," because it jumps when it snaps to "catch the animal further up the leg." Mr. Alfonzo is very adept at demonstrating the uses of these traps, carefully compressing the springs to set each jaw of the trap. He also owns a "rat wringer," which scrapes the excess meat off the pelt after skinning.

He and Chris Areas own a large collection of older traps, as well as handmade stretchers and boards. Chris also owns the trappers' bag used by his father. Many of these items have been handed down from generation to generation. It is also typical for the trappers to have a collection of their favorite pelts. Fuzzy Hertz has a pelt, tanned years ago at the cost of $30, that he keeps because its blonde streak rendered it defective.

Traditional Uses of Nutria: Foodways

Most of the trappers interviewed for this project report that they don't eat much nutria meat. As Douglas Robinson said, "If it tastes like chicken, why not eat chicken?!" On the other hand, Fuzzy Hertz, who has owned Fuzzy's Bar in Lafitte for more than fifty years, waxed enthusiastic about nutria meat. Even those who had never tried it had heard reports of it "tasting good." Fuzzy's family started eating the meat long after they began trapping because "the meat was so pretty." They cook it in a variety of ways: stewed, fried, barbequed, smothered, and even in spaghetti. More than for human consumption, nutria meat is often sold for animal feed.

Lore and language of the trappers

A few of Jerry Alfonso's prize-winning hand-carved decoys

The legend that E.A. McIlhenny is the primary source of Louisiana's nutria problem, either because he intentionally let loose the ones he had been raising on Avery Island, or because the nutria escaped during a hurricane, is so pervasive that is has been widely cited (even in news reports). Shane Bernard, historian and curator for McIlhenny Company, has spent a great deal of time tracking down the truth behind the legend. According to his research, McIlhenny wasn't the first to have imported nutria to Louisiana; he was the third. Moreover, he never imported nutria from Argentina, as is alleged, but bought his first ones from a seller in St. Bernard Parish. McIlhenny intentionally released nutria into the wild because he wanted to establish a nutria-trapping industry. Bernard did discover that a hurricane once allowed some of McIlhenny's fur-bearing stock to escape, but nutria were not recorded among the escapees.

In addition to this legend, nutria-trapping occupational lore includes a colorful variety of stories and expressions. There is the specialized language of the material culture: the "rat wringer" that scrapes meat from the skin, or the names of traps, from "Gibb," to "jump" to "diamond" trap. There is also insider language of the region. Chris Areas, for example, talks of Lafitte folks having to move "out front" (to the city of New Orleans) to make a living. And he also talks about how his father made a living at "bustering crabs," which is the process of farming soft-shelled crabs. In the process of selling nutria, some are "sold round," as Douglas Robinson says, which means that they are sold whole. Jerry Alfonzo contributed a local expression and belief: "when the muskrat patches its nest, we know it's going to rain." And Shane Bernard told of how E.A. McIlhenny was nicknamed "M'sieu Ned," and how young nutria are called "kits." Finally, Fuzzy Hertz contributed a family saying: His father called the process of buying and selling nutria pelts a "'skin game.' The trapper would catch the animal, skin it, and the buyer would skin him, and the next buyer would skin him, and they'd get skint all the way down the line."