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One minute I was snorkeling alone; the next I was side by side with a manatee the size of Orson Welles after a Haagen-Dazs binge.

My brain jangled.

What would it do? Flip its tail and swim for it? Attack? Did I dare touch it? If I did, would it be psychologically scarred for the rest of its life?

But there it was, huge and seemingly unconcerned. And there I was, floating right next to it, so excited I scarcely dared to breathe.

The moment was too rare, the opportunity too great. Hesitantly, very hesitantly, I reached out and touched it.

My fingers ran gently along its flank. It was rough and thick. It could have been an elephant’s trunk. I wondered if the manatee even felt the touch. I was thrilled. But if it did feel my touch, would the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service consider it harassment? Should I just leave?

Then a remarkable thing happened. This 9-foot-long creature that outweighed me by 900 pounds quietly and ever so slowly rolled over on its back.

It wanted its stomach scratched.

Crystal River, about a two-hour drive north of Tampa, is the only place in Florida, and probably the world, that’s organized for this sort of intimate contact with these endangered animals.

The town of Crystal River has nine outfitters who, for about $25, will supply you with snorkels, masks, flippers and wet suits and then take you out by boat to swim with these marine mammals.

Florida Fish and Wildlife officials say it’s not harmful to the manatees if you do it properly. That is, don’t chase them. Don’t wake them up. Don’t feed them. All those things are considered harassment.

The Save the Manatee Club is less enthusiastic, noting that 90,000 people come each year to swim with manatees, and that’s a lot of human contact.

To be sure, 99 percent of visitors are respectful of the manatees, a club spokeswoman said. But she worried about the 1 percent.

One thing is certain, visitors love the experience.

“I petted two!” said an enthusiastic Natasha Young, an 18-year-old student from Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University in Blacksburg. “I thought I would be scared. But one just came up and rolled over.”

Also giddy with excitement, Jacquie Wolfson, 37, of New York City said, “They were so great. They’re huge. We loved it. It was incredible.”

Every year from late November through March, people can swim with as many as 300 manatees that flee the chilly waters of the Gulf of Mexico for the comparative warmth of the Crystal River. There, the spring-fed waters are a constant 72 degrees.

Like humans, manatees can be harmed by the cold. If water temperatures drop below 68 degrees, they suffer an uncontrolled loss of body heat and can’t survive long.

Crystal River has the largest congregation of manatees at a natural spring anywhere in Florida, said Eileen Nunez, a wildlife interpretive specialist for the Fish and Wildlife Service.

In addition to the warmth, manatees hang around Crystal River to feed on the hydrilla grass. There’s lots of it.

Most Floridians hate hydrilla. The uncontrolled growth of this weed clogs rivers and canals all over the state. Residents spend thousands of dollars to get rid of it. But to the plant-loving manatees, hydrilla is as savory as prime rib or gumdrops.

It’s a wonder that anyone could love anything as pug ugly as a manatee.

Christopher Columbus and his crew were the first Europeans to record seeing these creatures in the Caribbean. These 15th Century sailors thought they looked like mermaids.

Some mermaids. The manatee’s nearest relative is the elephant. What’s more, manatees are bulbous, sport little whiskers and often are covered with black and green algae. We’re definitely not talking Daryl Hannah in “Splash” here.

But manatees do have interesting personalities. They are extremely gentle creatures that seem to glide rather than swim and, if you look carefully, some even seem to smile.

Some manatees are shy and reclusive; some love people. Most don’t like scuba divers — the bubbles scare them. Some hang around the spring all year long; others wander as far west as Alabama and as far north as Virginia and the Carolinas.

Many are playful. They have been known to tip over canoes or flip alligators upside down, apparently just for the fun of it.

They can learn. Manatees in the Crystal River now have figured out that humans go only certain places and not to others. Where humans don’t go is into the protected boundaries of the Chassahowitzka National Wildlife Refuge. So if a manatee wearies of wide-eyed swimmers with face masks, it just drifts into the no-humans zone.

Manatees have no natural enemies except people.

For thousands of years, American Indians hunted them for food. So did early Spanish explorers. Their bones were used for medicine. Indians fashioned canoes from their thick skin. Missionaries used their oil for lamps.

Today, powerboats are the enemy.

The manatees get hit often when they come to the surface to breathe. Many manatees carry scars. And since the manatees’ lungs lie along the tops of their bodies, a propeller can easily puncture or slice them open. And, of course, that will kill them.

This past year, boats hit and killed 66 manatees, a Florida record, said Nancy Sadusky of the Save the Manatee Club. It’s unknown how many were injured.

Nunez said Florida has between 2,000 and 2,500 manatees, which are correctly called Florida manatees. They are a subspecies of West Indian manatees that range out into the Caribbean and along the Central America coast.

Historical data are non-existent about how many manatees once existed, say the Fish and Wildlife Service and the manatees club. Also, no set population number has been established for removing them from the endangered species list.

For that to happen, three factors must be considered, Sadusky said: the total population, the rate at which they are dying and habitat loss.

Under normal circumstances, a healthy manatee can live for 60 years.

My recent experience with the manatees was mixed.

The contact with the manatee was wondrous, but despite the name Crystal River, underwater visibility was not more than a few feet. The water was so roiled that one woman mistook a manatee swimming beneath her for a sandbar.

Locals in Crystal River say the waters get murky because of the many swimmers. They recommend going early in the morning for the clearest views, though the waters were not clear for our 9 a.m. visit.

We signed up with Crystal Lodge Dive Center, which rented us all the snorkeling gear and took us by boat to Banana Island, a popular spot to see manatees adjacent to the national wildlife refuge.

But the boat’s captain, a young man, seemed all too uninterested in the outing.

How long will we be here? he was asked when the boat stopped at the island.

“Oh, an hour or an hour and a half,” he said, “unless I get bored.”

That cynical remark put off all of the members of the group, who were very excited about seeing manatees up close for the first time.

A few minutes later, when the strap on my son’s mask broke, he got little more than a disinterested you-should-have-checked-it-before-you-left attitude from the young boat captain. Later, after some argument with the owner on shore, he got a partial refund.

But without a mask to see underwater, he lost probably 45 minutes to an hour during the stop at the island when he could have been looking at manatees.

The captain’s sour attitude may have been a case of one Crystal Lodge staffer having a bad day, not typical behavior.

The important thing was seeing the manatees. And that was unforgettable.

IF YOU GO

GETTING THERE

From Tampa, drive north about 60 miles on Interstate Highway 75 to Florida Highway 44 and head west directly to the town of Crystal River.

INFORMATION

For outfitters and lodging information call the Chassahowitzka National Wildlife Refuge Complex at 352-563-2088, 7:30 a.m. to 4 p.m. weekdays and often on weekends in winter, or the Citrus County Chamber of Commerce, Crystal River Office, at 352-795-3149, 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Monday-Thursday, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Friday.

For information on manatees call Save the Manatee Club at 800-432-5646, 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. weekdays, or the Wildlife Refuge Complex at the above number.

Tip: If you go snorkeling, be sure to bring a towel. Morning swims can be cool. You’ll be a lot warmer if you can dry off after your visit with the manatees.