While
running home from a somewhat slow charter on the island’s north
side two days ago, I noticed a large dark shape in the water
directly ahead of me. Manatees are rare down here but I’ve seen
them on several occasions in this same area. The lumbering
mammals and power boats have an unfortunate history together, so
I instantly chopped my throttle back to neutral and cut the
wheel hard to avoid inflicting a set of prop scars along its
back. At the same moment, the manatee made a remarkably quick
turn to the right to avoid getting bumped by my hull. During its
brief acceleration, a very non-mammalian fin broke the surface.
Since it was in less than four feet of water and only two feet
off my bow I finally got a good look at this animal, which now
clearly wasn’t a manatee. It was a shark.
Actually, it was a really big shark. With stripes. We were
barely moving when the “Holy Sh…s!” started coming out at full
volume. There was a ten foot tiger shark under my boat, the
first one I’d ever seen anywhere.
Coming from the Florida Keys, I’m no stranger to sharks. They’re
prolific throughout those islands and I often remark to my
anglers about how few we see here in Vieques compared to the
States. It was a rare day fishing off Key West if you didn’t see
at least one shark as big as a human. It may have been a
harmless nurse or an aggressive bull, but they were always out
there. On one morning in the Marquesas, I watched a huge
hammerhead chase down and kill a free swimming tarpon in three
feet of water. The shark pushed the tarpon across the shallows
for a full two minutes before grabbing its back half and biting
it in two. During this entire spectacle, we were just a boat
length away and my angler was filming with his digital video
camera. This was real National Geographic stuff happening right
off my bow.
I’ve always loved sharks. They were the first big fish that I
learned to catch as a flats guide. All you needed to do was snag
a small jack or barracuda and hang it off the back of your
skiff. Within a few minutes a three or four foot lemon shark was
sure to show up looking for some meat. Shark fishing was easy in
the Keys. And since it was so easy, it didn’t get much respect.
I eventually drifted away from the species when I decided that I
was officially a fly fishing guide. None of my clients wanted to
bother with them during our pursuit of the elites: tarpon,
bones, and permit. Sharks were knuckle dragging cavemen that
were beneath the dignity of most fly rod anglers. If you
couldn’t catch it with a perfectly tied crab pattern, it wasn’t
worth catching.
What I realize now is that I miss sharks. I miss the simplicity
of catching them with a hunk of bloody barracuda and a 4/0 hook,
especially when someone brings their ten year-old kid on my
boat. I also miss crying about a big six-foot bull charging in
and eating my world record permit in one bite. I miss seeing
huge nurse sharks mating in the shallows off Woman Key every
June, and getting into the water with them while the tourists
roll their videos of the “fearless” flats guide grabbing their
tails. These are all things I’ve done in the Keys and haven’t
been able to do down here. I just loved seeing them all the
time.
So fast forward back to the ten-foot tiger shark under my boat
two days ago. This monstrosity was cruising up and down the
island’s shallow north shore, probably looking for turtles to
eat. There are hundreds of turtles around right now as we’re
getting close to nesting season. As I mentioned earlier, this
was the first tiger shark I had ever seen anywhere, and it was
easily the biggest shark I’d ever seen in Vieques. This thing
could’ve bitten through a turtle’s shell as easy as I can bite
down on a taco.
I had two anglers on my boat that morning, and neither of them
had ever seen anything like that in the water. The gentleman
sitting right next to me got instantly quiet and stayed that way
while we followed the big tiger until it disappeared into the
depths. When we hit the shore, I asked if seeing something that
big from a boat really unnerved him. His answer was yes. He’d
been swimming laps up and down the beach in front of his
friend’s house every morning for the entire week he’d been in
Vieques.
I told him not to worry about it, shark attacks are unheard of
down here and he should go swimming the next day. I’m not sure I
really meant it at that moment.
Capt. Gregg McKee,
WildFly Charters
