- Peta-Lynn O’Brien, 53, was just a pre-teen when she saved her best friend, Hilton from a crocodile
- The saltwater croc had pulled Hilton into a death roll
- To this day, Hilton still thanks Peta-Lynn for saving his life
Here she shares her story in her own words.
Growing up on my family’s safari camp in South Africa, life was wild.
A true bush baby, I ran around barefoot and loved animals, just like my dad Rob and mum Wendy.
When I grow up, I want to work in wildlife too, I always thought.
After Dad’s apprentice, Hilton, then 19, joined our safari company when I was seven, we became instant best mates.
He was like my big brother, and I was his little shadow.
When I turned nine, our family moved to Australia to run a wildlife reserve.
‘You’ll be coming with us, of course,’ Dad said to Hilton, who became his business partner.
After we arrived at Channel Point, in the Northern Territory, I went to boarding school in Darwin, but spent holidays at the large reserve.
There, we’d shuck oysters with a screwdriver and make friends with the wallabies and dingoes.
Within the first year, Hilton found love with our neighbour June-Ellen.
When I was 12, in April 1981, Hilton picked me up from school for the Easter weekend while my parents were away.
‘I proposed to June-Ellen!’ he grinned.
Back home, we planned to hunt a pig to cook for the engagement celebration.
Driving to our swamp in Hilton’s open-air 4WD, we parked at the dock where our airboat sat in the muddy water.
For an hour, we scoured the area for a pig.
Then, suddenly, our boat got stuck on a mud bank.
Hilton jumped off to push the boat out.
But his hunting revolver dropped into the swamp.
We waded through the water, searching for it.
Never threatened by crocs before, we didn’t feel in danger.
But then I heard a splash.
‘Peta-Lynn!’ screamed Hilton.
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Turning around, I saw a huge saltwater crocodile latched onto his right arm.
With no time to think, I dashed over.
I held onto Hilton’s left arm, trying to pull him away from the croc with all my might.
I have to save my friend! I thought.
I was in a tug-of-war with a massive salty!
Suddenly, the predator released Hilton, and we stumbled towards the shore.
Then the crocodile made its second attempt, going for Hilton’s thigh.
As the croc pulled him into a death roll, spinning its prey, somehow I kept hold of Hilton.
As I tugged his arm desperately again, the croc finally stopped and I was able to yank my friend free.
As we raced for the shore, the reptile tried attacking from behind again, snapping at Hilton’s buttocks.
‘Let’s go!’ I screamed as we hobbled further away.
As Hilton collapsed 50 metres from the water, I saw the croc waiting, staring into my eyes.
I didn’t want to go anywhere near the swamp again, but I had to get Hilton help.
‘Stay here, I’ll get the car from the dock,’ I said.
Luckily, I’d always driven it on the reserve.
For almost five kilometres, I ran through the bush, back to the dock.
Starting the ignition, I drove like a mad woman to get to Hilton faster.
Helping him into the vehicle, I saw how severe his injuries were.
There were bite marks on his arm and buttocks, and his thigh was ripped to shreds, a big chunk missing.
As we drove back to Channel Point, he was dropping in and out of consciousness.
‘You’re not dying on me!’ I begged.
Parking at the camp, I radioed June-Ellen to let her know.
Dousing Hilton’s wounds with antibiotic powder, then wrapping them in a sheet, I drove off in the 4WD again.
Meeting June-Ellen an hour into the journey on the way to the hospital, she took over the wheel.
Once there, docs cleaned Hilton’s wounds to prevent infection, before sewing him up with 190 stitches.
Without a scratch, I was free to go home to stay with June-Ellen and her family.
The next day, our wild encounter became a media circus.
I rang my parents to tell them everything was okay, and they flew home.
When they arrived, they smothered me with cuddles.
‘We’re so proud of you,’ they teared up.
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Visiting Hilton each day, he was incredibly thankful.
‘You saved me,’ he said.
Rangers inspected the area and confirmed the croc was a 3.6-metre female looking after her eggs.
That September, the then-Governor-General Sir Zelman Cowen awarded me the Star of Courage.
The next year, I was told I’d be meeting the Queen on a royal visit to Australia.
‘We’re going to have to bleach your feet!’ Mum joked.
Wearing heels for the first time, I was awarded the Rupert Wilks Trophy and the Royal Humane Society’s Gold Medal by Her Majesty.
‘What a brave young girl you are,’ she smiled.
It was my proudest moment.
Soon after, I moved back home to South Africa.
Now 53, I’m married with two wonderful children, and work in wildlife conservation.
Hilton and June-Ellen, both 65, who live in Queensland, have three children.
We’ve loved catching up on family holidays over the years.
‘Thank you for saving my life,’ Hilton always says.
I still can’t quite believe I fought a croc – and won!
Hilton says:
Back home in South Africa, I’d seen and been through some scary stuff.
But nothing compared to my harrowing encounter with the croc.
Her teeth latched into me, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it.
I was blown away with how my 12-year-old ‘little sister’ had the courage to stick by me to fight for me.
I’ll never stop being proud of her.
This story was published in 2022.
