Male and female sharks are extremely hard to tell apart, unless you get a good look at their bellies. A lot of times it is their length that gives the first hint of sex: So what do you think? ---->>>
“It might be Betty or Mama or the Cadillac, one of the huge females that patrolled the east side of the island. These big girls, all of them over seventeen feet long, were known as the sisterhood. Or it might be a ‘smaller’ male (thirteen to fourteen feet), like Spotty or T-Nose or the sneaky Cal Ripfin. These sharks were called the Rat Pack.” p3
Okay, there is this guy that is diving for urchins around the Farallon Islands that has seen possibly 3 to 4 hundred sharks during his time in the water. Wouldn’t a sane man after seeing his first, vow never to enter that area of the water again? Dude, are you mad?
“‘Ron’s all about competence,’ Peter said. Scot agreed, and marveled at Ron’s fearlessness. ‘People cry on the evening news if they see a dorsal fin in the surf,’ he said. ‘And here’s a guy who’s around them all day long and doesn’t want to tell anyone.’” p40
Ron, the urchin diver, will run out of luck at some point in his life. He’s already survived one “too” many close encounters, once actually jumping off his boat and landing on top of a seventeen foot Sister. A short documentary on his occupation as lone Farallon urchin diver has been produced and more information can be found at…
It just boggles the mind, how these prehistoric behemoths are cruising around the Farallons, as the book says, within pizza delivery radius of San Francisco. Will they still cruise the waters once their 777,000 neighbors start “Jaws” tours to the islands? Won’t this book entice curious readers to take a peek for themselves?
Some things might be better left unsaid, or in this case left unwritten.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
at 7:37 PM