A Fish Story

This tale actually took place last Saturday while Dream Quest was still moored in Garrison Bight off of Key West.  In preparation for my impending departure, I decided it would be prudent to check the condition of the bottom of the boat.  I had sprung for an expensive new coat of anti-fouling paint before beginning my voyage last November and I was anxious to see how it was holding up and how effective it was proving to be at keeping marine growth at bay.  In addition, there are zinc anodes beneath the water line that protect the boat from electrolysis that need to be checked periodically. The rudder, propeller, shaft and water intake grates are also components that need routine inspection.

I donned my new wet suit, weight belt, mask, fins and snorkel and quietly slipped off the swim platform on the stern of the boat. I was immediately pleased to see that the hull was absolutely free of marine growth, the new paint was doing an excellent job.  I checked the large zinc on the stern, cleaned off its surface scale and then surfaced for air.  I headed back down and checked the rudder, so far everything looked good. On my third dive, I went deeper to check out the prop and shaft. As I worked, I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye.  I turned to my right and there beneath the bow, not fifteen feet away, in limited visibility, was what appeared to be a six foot shark, watching my every move. Then suddenly I spied more movement off of the port beam, and there lay another monster, even larger than the first. I froze in awe, studying there movements, which can telegraph their intent. I have learned over the many years that I was an avid scuba diver that any sign of sudden body twitches and it's time to get the hell out of the water, otherwise sharks are a fascinating species to behold.

I grasped the prop shaft with my left hand and held absolutely still.  As I did so, they began to circle in unison and then, here they came, straight for me, but in a non-aggressive manner. I held my breath, my lungs were begging for oxygen but it was certainly no time to even think about moving.  As they came closer out of the haze, I first noticed their enormous eyes, then their crooked upturned mouths and finally their large scales. Wait a minute, sharks don't have scales, these were tarpon! and curious ones at that.  They were simply immense, both dwarfing me in size and as docile as house cats.

I regrettably could not hold my breath any longer and surfaced as quietly as possible, hoping not to spook them. When I returned, there they were, waiting patiently, and as curious as ever. I worked methodically to complete my inspection, covering every square foot of the hull in the process.  They never left my side, these mammoth assistants from the deep and I never called them shark. Tarpon hate that.

My Assistant

Tarpon hate the S word.