Thanks, I’ll take the Shark
Originally posted in 2007, in the CCWA Newsletter
I was out windsurfing at TAMUCC beach -- I like to call it Goat Head beach because twice I've found a goat head there -- when I was reminded of an urgent business meeting I was about to miss.
The reminder went like this: I saw a fin.
The fin could have been a ray sunning himself, or a friendly dolphin, but I don't make distinctions when I see a fin. I'm not a fan of racial profiling with humans, but I'll profile all I want in the ocean. If there is a 1% chance that the mouth -- and more importantly, teeth -- attached to that fin might run a taste test on me, my memory quickly scans my to-do list and even things like "mow the lawn" suddenly seem urgent.
When I plowed into shore with no regard for my skeg (it's a sandy launch and my angle grinder will fix my fin right up), and ran up the board and leapt off the nose, I considered just leaving my kit there in the water. After a quick glance, and noting no disappointed looking sharks nor a feeding frenzy, I waded back in and retrieved my gear. Forgetting what urgent meeting I had, I sat down on the beach and reflected how great sharks are. For one thing, I won't have to worry about living in an assisted living center, having just had five years shaved off my life. For another, I can sit on shore, mere feet from that watery abyss, and relax.
You can't do that with alligators. That's why I'm too scared to windsurf at some of the area lakes. Not only do crocs and gators swim, but they can walk on land. You gotta watch for the suckers when you are rigging, too! I don't know about anyone else, but when I'm downhauling my sail, I want to be 100% focused on my foot not slipping off my mast base, not split 50/50 with "are there any alligators behind me?"
Snakes are another problem. They are mostly land-dwellers, but ask my mom about the canoe trip down the Missouri when a rattlesnake tried to board the canoe, while they were in the middle of the river! Closer to south Texas, ask Alissa about her run in with the aggressive brown snake at Grassy Point. Had she been sporting a GPS, she'd have set all kinds of windsurfing records, including waterstart speed, straight line speed, de-rigging speed and time from full-tread to bald-tires as she peeled out of the parking lot. That snake doesn't just stop chasing you at the water's edge.
So, when I leave The Fort and head into the food chain, er, Ocean, I'll take the shark, even when it's really probably just a dolphin. Sasquatches should stay in the woods and things-that-might-eat-me should remain in the water.
