Bull Shark

 
(note: Richard Dennison sent this letter from Connecticut after reading "Off the Shoulder of Orion". It is his own lament concerning his inability to scuba dive during this period of his life. It is a pleasure to include it below.  Laudizen)

 

Bull Shark

 

Thanks for the eloquent passage.  I have had similar thoughts as well as events.  After my 2nd heart event, my doctor said something about no more scuba diving.  My favorite parts of the world in the 80's and 90's were under water.  What splendor!  The sight of an 8 - 9' Bull Shark feeding in 110 feet of water nearly killed me as I overstayed my time to watch in fascination. 
 
Let me tell you that story.  I was in North Carolina off Morehead city, maybe 5 miles out.  The first dive on the wreck was a nice dive, great visibility, some beautiful fish.  This wreck was totally flat.  Most of the WW II wrecks off the North Carolina Coast had been depth charged to flatten them out so German subs couldn't hide next to the wrecked hulls.  (I did dive on 2 sunken German subs, but that's another story.) 
 
One member of our party, Ronnie Phillips, had a spear gun with a .22 cal bullet in the point.  He shot a large grouper, and the fish exploded.  There was green blood everywhere.  A separate party swimming through the same area later came face to face with a large bull shark.  Mike panicked and went for the surface, others hid in the wreckage.  Nothing happened, but we now knew that the sharks were down there.
 
On my second dive, at the end of the dive, I was the last one on the bottom.  I had about 600 on my gauge, which was enough for a safe rope ascent.  Then I saw a shadow, maybe 50 yards away, coming directly toward me.  I waited.  It drew closer.  I saw it was big.  I don't know if you've ever seen a movie of jet fighter plane moving low across the desert.  As they moved forward, they moved up and down over the landscape keeping the same distance between their body and the contour of the ground.  That's how the shark approached, but the wrecked freighter didn't have much sticking up.  The hills were of twisted metal and rubble.  
 
I was fascinated by his tail.  It was like a metronome, back and forth, back and forth, very steady, very deliberate, no variation.  I was now down to 350 on my gauge. 
 
As the shark drew closer, moving right toward me, I could see now that in front of him was a school of 12 - 14 Spanish mackerel.  The distance between the fish school and the shark was constant.  I was now down to 300.  Back and forth, no change in the rhythm of the tail.  The mackerel were each over a foot long, tightly packed, maybe 4 inches apart.  The shark was in no hurry.  I suggested to mackerel that they spread out, but they stayed in formation.  The tail motion never changed, but the shark was now gaining, closing the distance.  The beat was exactly the same.  I'm down to 200.  I knew I couldn't make the surface, but I remember that they were going to hang some extra bottles at 50'.  I hoped they were still there. 
 
I was still moving up the rope hand over hand.  I could see that the shark would pass directly beneath me.  I was watching as he turned sidewise, just like in the movies, and opened his mouth.  His eye was looking right at me and then it closed.  I was thinking he must have seen the same movie I did.  With his mouth wide open, he swam around the last fish in line.  If there were 12, now it's 11.  It was just gone.  He never changed his metronomic beat.  I could see the fish's thrashing inside the white throat just below his closed mouth.  I couldn't believe it.  He swallowed it whole.  No blood, no violence.  I kept moving up the rope, slowly, 150 on my gauge. 
 
The shark turned back over, right side up, and dropped back to the same distance behind the last fish, his next target.  The school stayed tightly packed.  I wondered if they noticed that one of their school was missing.  I kept moving up the rope, but I see the school with its monster predator, slowing moving off in the distance.  He seemed very patient.  I'm sure that he just picked them off, one at a time, as if he was picking apples from a tree until they were gone. 
 
I make it to the air tanks at 60', just as it was getting hard to breath on my regulator.  I quickly grabbed the regulator off one tank and relaxed.  I waited about 6 minutes.  I knew that they were probably worried and pissed at me for being so late.  After awhile, I took a deep breath and went on up slowly, hand over hand, slowing exhaling bubbles as I went.  I knew I could swim 60 feet without air at a normal speed, but I was going much slower this time.  I kept my muscle movement to a minimum and took my time.  I could see the surface, and I was surprised as I was able to get a breath from my own tank at about 15'.  I took a few small breaths from my regulator, but my tank was totally empty just as I broke the surface.  I sure cut it close, but it was a memory I will never forget.
 
I have a lot of diving stories and a lot of life stories.  So farewell to my favorite Islands and dive sites - Curacao, Bonaire, Vieques,  St John, St Croix, the BVI (with Treasure Island, Salt Island, Norman Island, Peter Island, Cooper Island, Ginger Island, Dead Chest, Tortola, Virgin Gorda), the Red Sea, Morehead City, the Florida Keys, the Jersey Shore, Marblehead, Groton Long Point, Stonington…..       
 
 
 
Rich Dennison

 
 
November 10, 2008
Connecticut