The Shark Week

Sharks always come into the shallows for summer. Always. When the windy waves of winter are past, and the emerald water of summer turns the southeastern gulf into the biggest and warmest swimming pool in the world, the sharks that have been out to sea and prowling the offshore shipwrecks venture into a new territory. The mysteries and behaviors surrounding sharks have always been murky in myth, legends, and campfire stories, but notwithstanding the color of the water, or whatever the reason, sharks and their menacing demeanor most often appear in July and August.

For everyone who plays or works on the water, maritime animals of the wild are easy to identify with only a glimpse of color. The playful bottlenose dolphins of the local waterways are various shades of gray or black. Sea turtles might appear as ancient sea serpents when they surface for air, but sea turtles are a mixture of light and dark green with shades of yellow. The manatees that ancient sailors believed were mermaids are most certainly brown, but sharks—no matter what kind—always have a different color from any other citizen of the deep and can easily become the frightening creatures of folklore and Hollywood type casting.

The Shark Week that will remain in the forefront of a particular Beach Boy’s memory will always be in one unforgettable parcel of time in the middle of July. The first sighting came as no surprise because sharks do enter shallow water in summer, but when a sailing adventure became boring because of flat water without wind, a wandering predator happened to surface between a series of sandbars.

Every boat with more than one person will always have lookouts, and the morning of the first sighting was no exception. A young boy who was almost the age of a teenager suddenly stood up, cast his hand over his brow, and began scanning the swimming pool clear water with steadfast scrutiny. “Hey,” he exclaimed with newfound interest. “Look over there,” his arm was pointing like a compass. “That’s a shark!”

At the exact same second and with uncanny timing the creature that was swimming like a snake made an abrupt turn and began swimming toward the boat. The shark was quick. The creature was alongside in seconds and swimming only inches below the glare of the water. The view was incredible. The sleek animal of so many scary stories was tan with an orange tint, and after swimming the length of the hull - as if to measure a distance - it made another abrupt turn and swam across the bow as if to give an even more dramatic view before circling the 27-foot sailboat. When the shark seemed to tire of performing for a spellbound audience, a powerful flick of the tail sent the marauder out of the shallows and quickly racing into the deep.

When the shark was very near the boat, no one spoke, but after the creature from Jaws was into the depths and out of sight, everyone began speaking at once: “What kind of shark was that? How big could it have been? What would have happened if someone were swimming nearby? Could it have been a man-eater?”

No one knew all of the answers, but it was certain the shark was about ten feet long, very healthy, and no one wanted to be swimming if our version of Jaws came by again.

The second sighting during The Shark Week came as a surprise and ultimately became a contradiction to the decades of urban legend following Jaws. Two days after the first sighting on the sandbar, the sailboat was moving again with a beautiful coastal breeze. Again, the water was swimming pool clear, but on this occasion, the gulf was much deeper because the boat was about two miles offshore. As usual with near-calm days on sailing adventures, everyone was intent on looking out upon the vast expanse of water. Without preamble, a group of bottlenose dolphins began swimming toward the boat. Upon arrival, about eight of the fun-loving mammals began to play near the front of the catamaran. At once, everyone but the captain crowded forward to watch the sea-born entertainment. The dolphins were apparently intent upon interaction and the more the children screamed with delight the more the dolphins rolled and swam before them. This was when the captain turned to look behind and saw another dark shape looming up from the depths. Just as the skipper was about to announce another dolphin sighting, he realized with unmistakable clarity that the dark figure near the surface and at the back of the boat was a large hammerhead shark. Hammerhead sharks are unmistakable and cannot be any other creature. This hammerhead was at least 16 feet long - because the width of the boat was also 16 feet - and with the arrival of the shark so near the playing dolphins, the misnomer and legend that whenever dolphins are present there will be no sharks, was forever shattered.

The third sighting during The Shark Week was by far the most dramatic. A few miles near the shore and beach at Keewaydin, a large tarpon began repeatedly jumping out of the water. The four-foot fish was jumping as far and fast as possible, and then racing into the water to jump again. This was because the biggest shark of the week was chasing it with the obvious intent of doing what sharks do best. The shark was swimming so fast it was making a wave. No one aboard had ever seen a shark looking like a submarine’s speeding torpedo, but afterward, there was little doubt of the new respect, shock, and awe, created by the creatures of a fast and aggressive Shark Week.