Bop 'em On The Nose

“It's time for bed love, your parents will be here early in the morning to pick you up.” My grandmother tried to gently wrestle my great white shark plushie away from my pudgy little toddler hands. An odd choice for a youngster to pick a shark as a stuffed animal; especially amongst the choices of the cute, cuddle, and furry variety, but what can I say I love sharks. a large part of that being my grandfather's fault.

“Ok sweetie just a little while longer, and next time i come out here no ifs and's or buts ok.” “ok grandma, I promise.” I blew a kiss in response to hers, then brought my attention back to my grandfather and his buddys playing their typical Saturday night poker game.

I sat in the middle of the hallway leading to the kitchen on my very own miniature beach chair, embroidered with my name. I loved listening to the stories and tales from my grandfather and his group of long time friends. I could sit for hours as they played. Painting vivid pictures in my head, listening to verbal queues so I could direct the movie playing in my mind. My grandma would say “no swearing allowed until Timmy juniors off to bed.” That didn't seem to help too much, the occasional curse word flew out, making me giggle.

Of all the stories my grandfather told. There was one I loved the most.

“Tim there ain't no way you bopped a shark on the nose, much less a great white.” My grandfather discarded two cards and replaced them with two fresh ones. Moving his un light cigar from one side of his mouth to the other so he could talk directly to Berry. “ Listen bear you don't have to believe me, you've known me how long. And in all that time when have I lied to you.`` In an attempt to weed out inaccuracies Berry told my grandfather to start from the beginning “and don't leave anything out.” He shouted

My grandfather was grinning ear to ear; this was his favorite story to tell. “This was right after the war. I had decided to take some self-appointed R & R. I took a nice little trip to the land down under. I wanted to surf and live out on the beach, forget about the world for a little, yadda yadda, inner peace and all that nonsense. Anywho I was hittin the swells pretty hard one day. Of course, throwing caution to the wind I didn't take the time to notice the roaring riptide or the choppiness of the water. At the peak of one of my waves, I tipped back just a bit too far. No biggie I thought happens all the time. I'll pop back up and continue surfin. Boy was I wrong. I fell into the world's biggest washing machine, tumbling and flipping every which way like a ragdoll in a tornado. I just so happened to pop up a few times to catch my breath, only to be plunged back in. One particular tumble sent me deep down. On my swim towards reprieve is when I saw her.`` Berry stopped to interrupt. “How'd you know it was her big Tim, things are starting to unravel for the old Timster.” Berry stated, followed by a roaring laugh. “Knock it off will ya bear. Anyway, as If I didn't have enough going on at the moment fighting for air in Poseidon’s whirling derby. I found myself staring at the king of the ocean. Right in the mouth. Boy, when I tell you I ran on instinct alone, I had to, the fear was paralyzing. Luckily, I remembered something my old shipmate told me while stationed far off the coast of northern Japan. We were watching a group of salmon sharks come up to shore. ‘Listen, Tim, if we end up in these waters somehow, smash one of these buggers right in the snout, it works, they'll swim away hurt and scared. We already got nuff to worry bout.’ so that is exactly what I did. I swung as hard as I could bashing that great white with a clean left hook. Boom she reeled back a bit and swam away. When I finally made it to shore I passed out from fear, adrenaline, and exhaustion or all three I'm not sure.”

From then on my grandfather had a distinct liking for sharks and the unknown of the ocean's depths. I certainly gained interest from proxy. He watched shows and movies with me all the time, pointing out all the different species and where to find them. He took me to every possible aquarium he could think of. we would have our lunch at the local marine exhibit right next to long island sound a lot of the time. They had a 100,000-gallon tank swirling with bull sharks caught nearby. We’d sit on the giant carpeted steps adjacent to the cylindrical tank in the dimly lit observatory. We'd always try to catch it at feeding time. “Will feed ourselves while they get fed, how bout it junior.”

One of the most important things my grandfather taught me was about the species itself and how we and it played a role in the vast ecosystem of the world. “Listen junior, that story about me and the shark was probably the scariest day of my life, and I've seen some scary things believe you me. I know they look mighty, furious, even monstrous at times. But the truth is junior, they're only as scary as we make them, same as us. Galeophobia, the fear of sharks, they are scary because we want them to be. Honestly even after that unforgettable meeting with Bessy. (that was the name he had given the great white.) I don't fear sharks. I have a fear of people. We just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. People on the other hand have no problem destroying the ecosystem, and disrupting the balance of marine life. Overfishing the sharks that we were told to fear. No son from what I've seen we are far scarier than any shark.”

I loved our shared interest in sharks so much that I let it become my passion, and later on in life my vocation. I became a marine biologist in my adult years. I would be able to take my grandfather on a very special trip, because of my work

During the middle of May. I was tasked to go with a crew to hopefully view and tag a blue shark off the New England coast during their migration towards South America.

Stocked up and ready to go I wheeled my elderly grandfather onto the research vessel and we made our trek out to sea.

It took some time but as we predicted a small school of blue sharks peaked close to the surface. Truly a sight to see this species usually doesn't come to the surface, they mostly dwell in the depths.

“They're here to see me junior,” my grandpa said with a half-hearted chuckle.

“SHARK ON SHARK ON” my crewmate shouted. We snagged a blue for tagging. “How exciting,” I thought “Come here grandpa, let's do this together.” The crewmate corralled the shark close to the port side. I grabbed the long tag pole and instructed my grandfather to grab the back end. “On three we thrust ok” I haven’t seen my grandpa this happy since his Saturday night poker games. On my count, we heaved the tag deep at the base of the dorsal fin. “ Alright, great work team.” Grandpa's smile grew at the words of the captain because he was indeed part of the team.

Time had gone by and the crew packed up their things and sat quietly. Probably exhausted from the day's events.

All was eerily silent for a while excluding the sporadic squawk of a seagull and the sound of the water slapping the hull of the ship. I looked out at the calming fiery red and yellow sunset that stretched the entire foreground of the ocean surrounding us. Life isn’t always about the big picture or the milestone memories no one wants to remember, but instead the small ones you’ll never forget. Even if it is all about sharks.

I watched as my grandfather stared at the same sunset drifting off to sleep. After all those wonderful memories you gave me. I’m glad that today I could finally give you one.