Then there was the time, about a year later, when I was stationed in Guam…
My favorite pastime there was snorkeling, which I got fairly proficient at. Enough so that it even got a bit boring paddling around in the very restricted & shallow lagoon waters, marvelous as they were. My ventures started taking me outside the reef, once I got over my initial fear, and ‘took the plunge’! Out there - well, that is a different world entirely. Deep vertical canyons open out towards the open ocean, with coral walls and pristine white sand floors. These water wedges in the reef are full of totally tropical fish, flowering coral of all shapes, sizes, colors; the coral reef itself is porous, like a huge rock sponge. Some of the openings are even large enough to swim into, but the dark interiors are anything but inviting - home to octopus and eels, and who knows what all else. You feel like you are swimming in an aquarium full of tropical fish, but the scale is off - the fish are up to 3 or 4 feet long!, and the sand floor is about 80 feet down. You are just one more creature among thousands, they mostly act like you’re not even there (unless you try to touch one - not a chance!). They are all routinely going about the business of hunting & eating each other, and that makes you pause, and wonder…
Great care must be taken in this very foreign environment. One always wears sneakers inside your flippers, and gloves with rubberized palms, and if you absolutely must poke something, you do it with your diving knife or spear tip, never your finger. You guard against any inadvertent skin contact, as live coral stings, and dead coral is razor sharp, and nearly every living thing has teeth or spines or poisons of some kind. It’s totally ‘Look but Don’t Touch’. But just looking, just being there is so incredibly awesome - it’s truly one of the most thrilling experiences available on the planet!
And it’s addicting. Once bitten, it’s hard to stay away. I rarely snorkeled alone on Guam, as I had dragged most of my friends out with me, and they were most always up for another go. There was this one afternoon though, when I couldn’t find anyone to take along, but just couldn’t NOT go anyway. So out there I was, in my favorite spot on the north shore, outside the reef, way down deep in a canyon, chasing this huge parrot fish with my waterproof nikon, trying for that Once-in-a-lifetime shot. But I had to give it up, just couldn’t get close enough, and anyway - down that deep, his vibrant rainbow colors didn’t show up much, as everything fades to shades of blue-gray. In fact, there really wasn’t much light at all. A check of my waterproof watch confirmed that it was getting on evening, time had totally gotten away from me. (Snorkeling isn’t like scuba in that regard - you never run out of air, well, Xcept between breaths, but, oh - U know what I mean!)
Anyway - the sun was down, the tide was coming in, I was outside the reef, by myself, and I was just realizing that not a soul in the world knew where I was. “Ding” - on goes one of those red warning lights in my brain - this isn’t smart. Time to get out. But, not wanting to waste a moment of time there, and probably also due to the fact that I am more comfortable swimming underwater than on the surface, down I go again to that irresistible sandy canyon floor, to proceed back up the reef along it’s outer slope. Right then of course something happens that has never happened to me before - I see a shark. A Shark - between me and the reef, & we are swimming towards each other. This shark is not a monster, but he is bigger than me, & here I am, in His back yard, in His house, in His dining room… on His Plate! I am hit by a blast of panic so powerful, it feels like every single cell in my body desperately wants to claw my way straight up out of the ocean & scream SHAAAARRRRRRK!!! Luckily, there is a small part of my brain, back in the corner somewhere, that hangs onto logic just enough to remind me that I cannot actually climb Out of the water to safety, but only succeed in thrashing about on the surface, which is Xactly what attracts sharks to come check you out in the first place (Thank You Navy divers for that bit of wisdom in your scuba class!). Secondly, it reminds me that I’m about a quarter mile from shore, and there is no one there to hear me anyway (you dummy!). And thirdly - my heart is crashing around in my chest so violently that I am in much greater risk of dyeing of a heart attack than a shark attack - So Get A GRIP! Right here, a nice deep breath would be therapeutic, but that is out of the question of course, as I am still under some 60 feet of water. With immense effort, I manage to quench my panic enough to talk myself carefully & slowly back to the surface, grab a few of those deep breaths, and get back under where I can see around a bit still. The shark has turned aside, and quite unconcernedly proceeds out and away. Again with Extreme difficulty, I just manage to turn my back on this guy & head home again, only to - did you guess it?, yes? / no? - only to meet the second shark, also between me and the reef, also coming towards me, but (whew!) who also turns aside, & fades out into the depths.
At this point, I finally remember the camera around my neck, & can’t quite believe I have just seen TWO sharks, and not even attempted to get a picture! Who will believe me without proof?!? I am actually (briefly) tempted to go after them, but a swift kick from that logic center gets me back on track, and I finally make it over the reef and back to shore without further trouble.
I have never seen another shark in person. I know some people make a habit of it, but for me, once was enough. They would poo poo the risk, but the fact remains that sharks do occasionally kill people. To meet a predator that is capable of eating you, in his environment (that is so foreign to you) - that is a life-changing event, even if you escape untouched. It causes you to ponder the fact that most animals live in this fear constantly, and what a great thing it is that dinosaurs are extinct! Well, it did me anyway.

