Maia Molina-Varela gets to experience something very few people on earth have: seeing a Florida panther in the wild.
“It is truly incredible to see them up close,” said Maia. “I think every Floridian should get an opportunity to encounter such a beautiful and incredible creature.”
Thanks to support from our Florida Panther Fund, Maia is working very hard to ensure panthers will roam the palmettos of southwest Florida for generations.
Maia studied biology at the University of Florida, drawn to conservation and wildlife research even before she knew exactly what path she would take. After a stint as a wildlife health technician in a Gainesville lab processing pathology samples, she graduated to working with the FWC Florida panther team. Growing up in Florida, she spent holidays camping and hiking, building a deep admiration for wild places and the people who protect them. She never imagined she would work with big cats, but she has loved every aspect of the job.
Her days are rarely the same. Often, Maia is out checking camera traps across conservation lands and public lands in southwest Florida. It’s fieldwork like this that keeps the project connected to the real Florida, away from screens and deep in the habitats panthers still call home. During the short winter capture season, Maia assists with panther collaring, watching closely as the team safely captures, collars, and releases these elusive cats, while she records data and supports the process.
When budget changes threatened to eliminate her position, our Foundation was honored to step in and fund the gap to ensure her important work continues.
Last capture season brought one of the team’s most thrilling challenges yet: re-collaring a female panther they had previously collared.
Early in the search, they stopped to listen for her radio signal. Everyone went quiet, letting the silence settle so the biologist with the telemetry receiver could catch the faintest pulse of sound. Then, across the clearing, the calm snapped. Two hogs burst out of the grassland, agitated and frantic, sprinting toward thicker vegetation.
In the same instant, one of the team members gasped and pointed.
The collared female had materialized almost out of nowhere, just four feet from the buggy. For a brief moment she fixed them with a sharp, assessing stare, as if deciding what to make of the interruption. Then she pivoted and disappeared, embodying their nickname “Ghost of the Everglades.”
They had clearly disrupted her, and she seemed to hold a grudge. Later that day, she evaded every attempt to get close enough to dart her. It took several more days of persistence before the team finally managed to successfully re-collar her.
When you picture a Florida panther moving silently through the palmettos, remember that there is a dedicated team working behind the scenes to make that moment possible. Maia is one of those people, and thanks to your support of our Florida Panther Fund, her work continues to protect one of Florida’s most endangered species.
