The River Doctor

Dr. Myra Chen works in a world where her patients weigh half a ton and cannot speak. As the chief veterinarian for a marine rescue organization in Crystal River, she spends her winters in a wet suit, treating the injuries of West Indian manatees that gather in the warm, spring-fed waters of Kings Bay. Most of her patients bear the deep, parallel scars of motorboat propellers, injuries that Chen treats with antibiotic ointments and specialized suture techniques. She is a woman of quiet, unsentimental efficiency, who speaks of her patients as "difficult, bulky herbivores" rather than the gentle giants of local tourism brochures.

The paradox of Chen’s life is that her biggest obstacle is not the boats, but the well-meaning tourists who crowd the springs to swim with the manatees. She argues that the constant human contact stresses the animals, disrupting their feeding habits and driving them out of the warm springs into the colder, lethal waters of the Gulf. Yet her organization relies on the donations of those very same tourists to fund its rescue operations and build its rehabilitation tanks. "They want to hug them to death," Chen said, watching a mother manatee and her calf swim past her research boat. "The best thing we can do for these animals is to leave them entirely alone."

As the sun sets over the river, Chen prepares to release a rehabilitated male manatee back into the wild. The animal is hoisted from a truck crane into the spring water, its massive flukes striking the surface with a loud splash. Chen stands on the dock, watching as the animal sinks into the green depths of the spring, disappearing beneath the surface. She knows that this animal will likely cross paths with another motorboat next summer, but for tonight, he is safe and warm. She packs her medical kit and prepares for the next call.