In the shark infested waters of Cape Cod, I felt a tug on my line. The shark had taken what looked like a small fish large enough to satisfy its appetite for now. But it was not satisfied with just one and so it decided to take another bite from me as well. It’s teeth sunk deep into my fishing rod sending an electric jolt through my arm setting fire to every nerve ending in my body that laid next to the shark’s mouth before finally biting down hard again until there was nothing left but a piece of plastic between us which too quickly disappeared beneath the watery surface leaving only the remains of our battle above: two hooks caught together at their tips while we both circled around each other looking for weaknesses in the other’s armor.
I was thrown around the boat, reeling in my shark and then it took another bite from me. It was relentless to the point where I could barely move without being attacked again by this dangerous shark of the Atlantic ocean. In a flash of inspiration, I loosened the line so that now only one hook remained caught on my fishing rod while still holding onto both sides with all my might. The shark tripped over its own mouth when it tried to take yet another bite from what looked like an easy meal before finally making up its mind and swimming away frustrated at how difficult it had been made for him today but not giving up until he found something else as tempting as fish bait dangling just out of his reach.”
As I sat by the water catching my breath, soaking in what had just happened to me while knowing that shark fishing is a personal battle between man and beast with nobody ever truly winning or losing. All I could do was thank it for giving me something worth telling people about.”
“I may not have won this one but there will be others which are waiting for me out there somewhere soon enough.”
The shark turned around and took another bite from me before finally turning away frustrated at how difficult he found today’s meal. In a flash of inspiration, I loosened the line so that now only one hook remained caught on my fishing rod while still holding onto both sides with all my might.
This reminded me of my first encounter with piranhas in Brazil
