10 January 2013
I am aware of my reputation as a savage, merciless thug and killer. While I won't deny that I have killed, I can tell you it was neither savage nor merciless. My kills have always been swift and quick. I never relished the kill, but rather the feast.
You see, I may not be old, but I am scarred and damaged like the oldest among my kind. Some may say I got what I deserve, but I don't think so. My life was never easy, I worked my tail off for every little thing. And now everything's just got much harder.
I feed on small fish - don't we all? It's the rule of life, the big fish gobbles the small one. And us sharks close to the top, we look after each other and eat the rest.
Since the early days I loved fish. It's a healthy diet, low on saturated fat and full of Omega 3. Many people know it too, those who live at the ocean's edge and cast their nets to pluck the fish out. Just stay away from the blue crab - it's heavy on sodium, and personally - though I'm a little embarrassed to admit - it always caused me indigestion.
I never really had trouble with people. There were times in my youth when it was fun swimming under their surfboards. It took me a while to understand that the sounds people made were not the screams of joy, but, rather, fright. That would have been amusing, but soon after the screams would come boats, followed by loud shots. That was extremely unpleasant and taught me to stay away from people. Beside, they taste awful.
Once I took a bite of a man sitting in the flying box—they call it an airplane—and almost gagged! I think it sat there at the bottom of the ocean for too long, and it was vile. Even rotten fish tasted way better than that! I can't understand how some guys can get used to that foul meat, but I tell you—I ate sea cucumbers for the rest of the day just to wash my mouth of the taste—and I NEVER eat sea cucumbers! Double yuck!
For many seasons I minded my own business, stayed away from people and lived a tough, but happy life of a hunter. Occasionally, I'd follow big boats if I was desperately hungry, or desperately bored. If I swam after them long enough, they'd drop something in the water. I ate strange meat, something like those seagulls I chomped once long ago. There were other stuff too - a metal propeller they use for moving the air—that one is still embedded in my stomach and makes me burp bubbles when I eat—and stuff they wear on their feet when they don't swim. Those are soft and chewy, but indigestible.
I learned that if I swam just under the surface and let the boat see my fin, they'd start throwing things much sooner. But then, sometimes they'd shoot at me - you never know with people. In any case, following the boats was always a necessity, never a pleasure.
Then today I swam into a net. That was infuriating - the more I turned and jerked, the more entangled I got. After a while, the net took me up, out of the water and on a boat. I thought that was the end of my long swim. I thought about all I have eaten, and how unfair it is that I wasn't eaten at the end, but am suffocating outside water instead. Then people came, stabbed me with something sharp, cut my back and threw me into the ocean. At first I couldn't understand it. I was hurt, but I was hurting worse before. Then I tried to swim. I couldn't! Every time I moved my tail I would spin uncontrollably. I couldn't tell what's up and what's down. It finally dawned on me - they took my dorsal fin!
So, here I am, floating in the current, waiting for the end. It's been hours since I fed. I can't hunt no more, because I can't swim straight. I'm still bleeding and a pack of hungry young thugs is following me. It's a question of minutes until they realize that I'm in no shape to defend myself. My final thought goes to those who'll sip my shark-fin soup: may you choke on it, you hungry bastards!
--- ©2013 Marino Bosco. All rights reserved.
Confession Of A Finless Shark • Opuss № I