Mark Conlin was to my right. He was steady. Mesmerized by
the spot from where he expected the shark to emerge. Mark
had much less experience with sharks than Chip or I and
perhaps the adrenaline rushing through his veins was keeping
him warm. Although I own a chain mail anti-shark suit, I
wasn't wearing it. It's effective against all but the largest
sharks. But it would do me no good here. Powerheads, the
explosive spear points designed to kill sharks, would be
equally useless.
My
16mm motion picture camera was set on a heavy tripod. It
might have been possible to hand-hold the camera, but the
current was strong and I was afraid that when the action
got started I wouldn't be able to hold the camera still
without the tripod. I didn't want to blow it. We would probably
only get one chance and when the shark began to move, things
would happen fast. My movie lights were mounted on the camera
and were burning. "Don't let a lamp burst now", I thought
to myself. "Or a battery die, or the film jam, or any of
the dozens of things that can go wrong when making wildlife
films underwater. And when the action starts, don't let
me do something stupid to blow the shot." I started reviewing
all the times I blew a shot by turning the camera off too
soon, or zooming the wrong direction, or losing focus. How
many times had I actually risked my life to get a shot and
then blown it by doing something stupid? And how many times
had the subject been sharks? I silently recited the cameraman's
prayer, "Please, Lord, save me from screwing this up."
"This
is madness!" I realized. "I'm down here freezing to death,
waiting for this shark to come flying out. I'm wasting my
time. I should be home. I could become a couch potato. I
should get a real job, 9am to 5pm, indoors where it's warm.
I'm freezing. I must be entirely out of my mind! I'm going
to spend two years of my life shooting this film and it's
going to be on television for one hour. ONE LOUSY HOUR!
And when it's on, people will just page through it with
their remote control buttons. Two years of freezing like
this. And the film may not be any good. Two miserable years
and I could fail. I could fail!
WAIT,
SOMETHING MOVED!"
Suddenly,
Chip and Mark were screaming through their regulators, "shoot,
SHOOT, SHOOT!" I pulled the trigger even before looking
through the viewfinder. Then I could see it through the
lens. The shark was coming out! Its head emerged first.
Using a row of modified hook-like denticles along its back
the shark caught the top edge of the egg case opening and
began pushing itself out. The shark egg was hatching!
The
swell shark emerged quickly into the world. Six inches long,
covered with spots, and with a large bronze cat-like eye.
It was a beautiful, jewel-like creature. It hesitated only
a moment in the bright pool of incandescent light before
dashing off in search of a place to hide and rest. I turned
the camera off.
"Wonderful,
absolutely wonderful," I thought. Mark and Chip were still
hooting through their regulators. "God, that was wonderful!"
I checked my air pressure and decompression computer. "Damn,
time to go. Never enough time. Never enough air. I wish
I could stay forever! By God, that was wonderful!"
Writings
By Howard and Michele