SHARK!!!  I bet most of you just soiled your drawers and I haven’t even got started.  As an ocean enthusiast, I take my fins, suit and board and step off of the land where I roam freely, and voluntarily visit a new realm where I am no longer the top predator on the food chain.  Depending on the spot and its history/body count, I calculate the Fun: Risk Ratio™ before I charge out for some hand-drag spinners.  We all do it; where’s the nearest seal rookery? Did that guy ignore his instincts? Was the marine life acting odd? Can they smell the difference between blood and a pee soaked suit? Is it really that good out there? Could I still sponge with one arm? Why is no one out surfing?  Usually the best option is to relax, be alert, and stop shaking with fear, because they can SENSE that.  Being a bodyboarder can be a pain in the arse not because we have to listen to comments from surfers who try to prove they are dumber than sand, but because we look like food when we dress up in our seal costumes.  This means that we need to remain extra vigilant when we hit the surf, as if that will help.  Unfortunately, the second you start thinking about SHARKS!! (Gotcha…) you risk freaking yourself right out of some firing waves and back under your bed with a box of tissues.  It is best not to think about it and enjoy every wave as though it were your last.
 
I write this installment primarily to ‘Share the Terror’™.  I read these stories all over, listen to them from wide-eyed tale-spinners or even experience them and feel that it is unfair that I should suffer alone.  Besides, last couple times I surfed it was too damn crowded. This point brings up the first issue: are the story tellers just trying to dupe the easily duped surfing demographic just to keep the crowds down and prevent new surfers from buying that first board, or is this some true reporting from the trenches? Conspiracy theories run deep but so do the documented bite wounds. Fact is, the sharks are out there, they are hungry, we look like food, and they are allergic to soy. Instead of trying to make a literary masterpiece out of this compilation, I will instead break it up into …bite-sized chunks!

When I was young, I wanted to see ‘Jaws’ in the theater but my mom didn’t think it was wise so I missed that first round of bad cinema and went along my merry way. My first experience with seeing a shark was in Cancun, Mexico. We went to a nice beach to try our luck at snorkeling. I grew up at a beach with a no-frills sand bottom, so the concept of coral reef and scary monsters was unsettling. Oh, and I was about 10 years old, so give a kid a break. We got done swimming around about 4 feet from shore when these guys started trying to catch a school of mackerel by corralling the fish with a net from the shore. Well, the fish were smarter than the men, of course, so they simply jumped over the net to freedom. I was watching this spectacle when one fish jumps up and a big shark comes about a foot out of the water to catch the fish mid-air! The guy standing in chest deep water about 2 feet from the action moved pretty fast for an old guy. The view into the shark’s mouth is clear as if it was yesterday.

For high school graduation my dad asked me what I wanted. I responded “a plane ticket to Puerto Escondido”. For those of you that don’t know, the place gets big surf because it faces the swell and has a nice deep offshore trench going down the coast. One fine morning, I was hopelessly caught inside by a 8’ wave that as anyone who has surfed there will know, will pound you into human guacamole. The lip held up long enough for a direct hit when I noticed a big poisonous sea snake coiling in the lip, coming down on my head. Under water I duck dove with one hand using the other to swat at this crazy bodysurfing snake. That’s nothing. After blowing out during the day, the wind would switch offshore and it would start to fire again. A bit of rain came up but the waves were amazing. A creek broke through the bank and set some flotsam out into the lineup. Suddenly a guy not far from me exclaims that a “shark just ate something off the surface!”. I looked at his pale face, then at the 8-12’ perfect peaks and paddled quickly away to get me some more.

Later, I moved to San Luis Obispo to try my luck at college. We would go to Morro rock and get some big mushy waves because that was an easy spot to find. At ‘The Rock’ there is a big power plant that pumps hot water right out into the line-up. Sometimes they turn up the dial and it cooks the sea life on the rocks giving off a delightful smell, like fancy bouillabaisse seasoned with death. Who likes warm water when they surf? That’s right, we all do. One day, I was enjoying some mushy waves and exceptionally clear water when I looked down and could swear I saw a shark. I swam away as fast as I could (away from the beach for some reason) and told my friend. He asked where, and I pointed toward some surfer who had taken my spot and said “right by that guy!” His look was priceless. I stayed in the water and ignored an occasional plume of silt kicked up by something under me that I assure you was NOT the current. The artificially warm water was too much for my friends Marvin and Kevin to resist. They paddled out one day at the Pit, nude, on a whim to catch some waves. Remember: nude. Somehow, Marvin’s board managed to hit Kevin in the nose causing it to bleed profusely. Marvin told him to go in and kept surfing. Soon after, he looked a bit closer beneath him and noticed a 6’ blue shark (he claims) making 90 degree turns, aggressively. Still nude, he paddles slowly in and then starts sprinting with his board flapping behind, startling tourists.

Sometimes I like to conduct mental drills with myself. What would I do if a shark came up in front of me? Behind me? Could I sacrifice my board and keep him busy while I ran across the water surface like a Costa Rican Jesus lizard? Would it take a nibble of my bony body and decide ‘not worth it’ and find someone fatter, or at least less bitter? Should I paddle down to that empty peak or that outside bomber, or hang with the pack to improve my odds of fewer waves and a longer, pointless life? Will I be able to turn the tables on a 15’ shark by pulling its eye out with my bare hand while being chewed on? I saw some video of a dude lightly and soothingly holding the snout of a huge great white while he leaned over the edge of his boat. Could I somehow use this Jedi mind trick to disarm his killing instinct? How about that titanium rod in my right leg? Maybe the shark would find it odd and unappetizing and spit me out. That would suck if the shark bit off the ‘wrong leg’.

There are some really nice surf spots on the Channel Islands. There are also some delicious sea lions swimming and basking on the beach. Big buffets attract big customers. In nature as in the rest of America, it is called ‘All you can eat’ and not ‘All you should eat’ (credit: Wayne Lukens). And if you found a huge free buffet, why not live in the parking lot and raise your family? The big sharks are on this like red on blood. San Miguel Island is one of the major shark factories on the west coast of California, not unlike the Farallon Islands off San Francisco. And sitting in the water at some fancy point break near Point Conception, feet dangling carelessly in the water, you look out to sea at those islands and think about how far away they seem.

We pull up on the boat at Government Point, near point Conception. San Miguel Island is clearly visible across the channel. The surf is 6-8’ offshore and perfect. There are about 7 guys out. After getting a bunch, I realize that the best thing to do would be to paddle out to the submerged rock where the waves are first capping, and then drop into whatever wave you like with first priority. There is this seal playing around us for about 45 minutes. Out of nowhere, I get the full on chills. Booouuuurrr!…. Like that. My first thought is ‘shark’, but then I think that if there was a shark, that seal would be out of here. I look around and he’s gone. I get a wave way in, look back at perfect peelers, then at the boat, and then get out of the water. I later find out that the spot I was sitting on the edge of the continental shelf is lovingly named “Whitey’s Lunchbox”. I retroactively soil my drawers.

My friend Mike and his friend pull up their boat at Cojo (1/2 a mile away) on a small day a month later. There are 2 other guys out that they know. Mike and his friend surf a bit and bail because it is small. Their 2 friends surf a bit longer because they are the only ones there. Suddenly, one guy is either bumped or knocked off his board by a big shark. There is a bunch of kelp so you think you are hidden and safe but apparently not. They both sprint for shore and hyperventilate on the beach for 2+ hours counting their blessings, cleaning their shorts and watching the shark swim in the surf zone. Eventually they stop kissing and hugging for a moment to recall that they traveled to Cojo point by boat. That is the same boat safely anchored offshore. Sad Face. Since this spot is many miles from civilization, and they can no longer see the shark, they decide the coast is clear. Paddling single file with a gap in between, the shark pops up between them. The front guy jumps in the boat, the shark goes under and the second guy hops in. A month later, after hearing this story, I am back for a huge south swell. There are 22 boats anchored in the ‘parking lot’ forcing us to park the furthest out to sea. I said “to hell with it” and made the 150 meter swim to the ‘safety’ of the pack.

After cheating death for the umpteenth time, that I’m aware of, I swear to never surf Government point again. My chiropractor lives on The Ranch and confided that this last winter, he felt obligated to lift his leg out of the water so a big shark chasing seals underneath him wouldn’t run into it. I have no problem going out at Perko’s or Cojo which are less than a mile away, but someone has to live by principles around here. Using simple logic, I figured if the sharks are chilling out around point conception and the western Channel Islands, I needn’t worry about a thing surfing Santa Barbara and points south. Unfortunately, nobody told the sharks. About a quarter mile offshore of our local beach break called Sands are some buoys. At night you could hear the seals barking as they relaxed for the evening. Some people drove by one day in their boat and claimed that a big shark came up and bumped the buoy to knock off some lunch. I felt this was likely true since they had no interest in reducing numbers of kooks in the line up. Then, a year or two ago, a big great white was terrorizing my backyard by conducting drive-by’s of Goleta pier and off the end of Devereax point, chasing some research divers out of the water. This brings up another question; if you see a shark and you flee for your life, did it really ‘chase you out of the water’ or did you just leave because it felt prudent? We will leave this semantic issue to the philosophers.

Apparently I had not gone south far enough to escape the “floating appetite” as Jacques Cousteau called them. Last Christmas, we went for a nice walk to the Manhattan Beach pier. Getting closer, we saw a helicopter circling around and a cop car on the end of the pier. The lifeguard was telling some kooks to paddle in so I figured that was somehow the focus. I am not a big fan of the crass consumer orgy that Christmas has become, so I was pleased to see what appeared to be more stupid humans trying to entertain me. After asking the cop what was happening and being ignored, I strolled out to the end and overheard the word “SHARK!!!!” (gotcha again…). Intrigued by a new commotion, I rushed over and gawked at a roughly 7’ thresher shark cruising. We checked it for a minute or so, and it swam away. Luckily the lifeguard boat cruised up and inadvertently herded it back towards us for more gawking.

Following a rather lackluster winter surf season, surfing a spot called ‘Seals’ among others, I was looking forward to some south swells. No sooner had I showed up at one of my favorite spots in Ventura County, than I get told a scary shark story by a local bodyboarder. Conveniently, I was told the story after I got out of the water not before, so I got one last session without fear. The problem and benefit at this spot are the same; the water depth gradient is steep so big fish think they are in the open ocean but are actually quite close to shore. Couple that with a river mouth and a big seal rookery and you have quite a dinner party. He and two other guys were out when a 10-13’ great white cruised through the face of a wave right at one sponger but was blocked as the wave broke. They all went in on a ‘party wave’ and watched the thing get momentarily stranded on a sand bar then wiggle back into the depths. I asked if he thought it was just cruising around and he said “no, it was hunting”. Unfortunately, the surf is too good at this spot so I will not be deterred but will still be aware of my surroundings and take heed of my hunches. Not long after, possibly the same shark was seen cruising at Emma Wood and Leo Carrillo beaches for more pants soiling and girlish shrieking.

My friend got married in Santa Cruz. After finally sobering up, we drove home and stopped by the Monterrey Aquarium. The buzz in the air was that someone had accidentally caught a baby great white shark and they had it swimming in the huge, open ocean display tank. The tank is this big round thing with classical music and a massive window for viewing. A bunch of tuna, barracuda, turtles and sunfish were lazily cruising in circles, with one notable exception. A 5’ shark was looking especially agitated. Despite being well fed, a new record for science, it still looked quite risky if you wanted to wipe some algae off the window or retrieve a small child for instance. We all gawked at the shark as it swam around, surrounded by meals, when it suddenly darted to the surface and made a splash. The whole crowd gave a collective “ooooh!” and took a step back from the window. Months later we read that the shark had been released because it got too big and was essentially getting too scary. They figured that they proved their point of setting a record for a captive great white and so it was time to set it free. You can take a shark out of the open ocean, but you clearly cannot take the open ocean out of a great white. Clearly, no attempt was made to domesticate the shark so it would jump through a flaming hoop or toss some colored balls to trainer with a whistle. Its will would not be broken or softened by glossy publicity. All I know is that when that thing grows up, it’s payback time.

What do you call a bodyboarder out in the ocean that just had his arms and legs eaten by a shark? Bob? No, “some other guy”, you pray.

You often hear some stupid statistic about your odds of being attacked by a shark is less than getting hit by lightning. Is that ‘per capita’? I could be wrong, but what are the odds of some inbred dude in West Virginia even spelling the word ‘ocean’ let alone swimming in it? As more and more people are born, growing up with television shaped parents, being told that surfing is cool and it will get you chicks, there will be more human/shark encounters. As more of the fish are vacuumed out of the sea by factory trawlers and shortsighted fishery management, there is less (normal) food for the sharks. Sharks have just as much right to exist as everyone else. There are lots of good reasons they exist in the environment (that I can’t do justice here to list) but you should certainly be pissed about their slaughter and never buy shark fin soup. Surfing is a choice we make and a risk we voluntarily take. A perfect tube versus being eaten alive is a balance we mentally gloss over so we can take that first step into the water at that glassy, deserted reef break on some overcast morning. Odds are you have a better chance of being a human sacrifice to Moloch, the god of traffic, on your way to the beach as you juggle junk food and a cell phone than being a Scooby snack. So grab your Toobs board, go surf and don’t sweat it, you big sissy.

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