Close encounter - Part V

Lured by the calming sound of the waves lapping at the bow. Alejandro rest peacefully with his trusted Miami Marlins baseball as shield over his face. He occasionally peeks just to be mesmerized by the vivid blue sky above. With no one around, in tune with his surroundings, he understands a bit more why Sandro left the city life. “A life of adventure is what we all should be aiming for.” Said to himself while being softly rocked to sleep.

Sandro furiously kicks and gets at firing range with his heart beating like a tribal drum. He hesitates and decides to pull the trigger. The spear travels in an immaculate straight line in the direction of the shark’s head. Thanks to the animal’s eating frenzy, the spear did not land on its head, it landed more towards its left gill. As soon as the shark feels the tip on its skin, it moves away from the buoy, leaving a wake of minced snapper and blood.

Sandro holds the speargun with both hands in a vile attempt to cause more damage to the wounded animal. He first feels being pulled toward the bottom and suddenly, he feels no pressure. Quickly starts to bring his spearline closer and realizes that the spear is intact. That means, the animal did not receive a mortal wound, it didn’t go through the way he expected. Quickly starts to load again his gun and without any warning gets bitten in his left leg, ripping almost all of his knee and calve.

The animal bites a second time, now, a little bit lower, with the same amount of force and rage, ripping off some tissue from the calve. Sandro, in a desperate attempt to safe himself, hits the head of the shark with the unloaded speargun and by mere luck, the furious animal releases him and swims away.

Sandro swims and climb his way up the rock called "The Whale," he sees no sign of the shark anywhere around. Looks down to check his left leg and sees the amount of damage the shark made. In a matter of seconds, the top of the rock was almost completely tainted in red. He must act quickly and he knows it, he must stop the bleeding or it's game over for him.

"ALE! ALEEEEE!" He sees no sign of the boy from the distance, he assumes he must be asleep, he is not allowed to jump out of the boat. "He must be asleep." The boat is around half a mile away. Not giving it too much thought, jumps on the water and starts his sprint towards safety.

Using only his arms as source of propulsion, he leaves the spot of the attack behind breathing every 6 strokes fueled by his will to survive. A blood trail blends with bubbles as he looks down hoping not to see the dark silhouette of the shark. He gets closer and starts to yell:

“ALE! ALE!”

Alejandro hears his name and look around only to see Sandro swimming at full speed toward him. His Uncle jumps onboard like pulled by an invisible crane. As he lands onboard, Alejandro sees the ripping flesh on Sandro’s left leg. Spurting blood reaches Alejandro who stands there pale as a linen.

Sandro reaches for his t-shirt and stars to wrap the wound. Then yells:

“ALE, THE BELT!”

The boy is in shock, shaking in utter fear. Sandro yells once more.

“ALE! THE BELT, MOVE, MOVE!”

The boy looks inside the diving bag and reaches for a black diving belt neatly folded and stored inside in one of the side pockets of the bag. Every muscle in his face tightens as he firmly secures the improvised tourniquet.

With a hard pull, the recoil pull starter reached almost the end of the rope. In a cloud of grey and blue smoke the 40 HP engine responds with a roar.

“The anchor, QUICK!”

Numbed with fear, Alejandro let the line fall in the water after releasing it from the cleat. With the boat totally free, they head toward the shore at full speed. In a matter seconds, Alejandro notice an abrupt change in direction and turns around to see his Uncle. Sandro felt unconscious and his body leans on the tiller, pushing it towards the portside of the boat.

“SANDRO, SANDRO!” With great effort, Alejandro pulls the limp body out of the tiller range and takes control of the boat and steers toward the entrance of the bay.

“DID YOU SEE THAT? A SHARK! A SHARK!” Sandro yells getting out of his unconscious state. When he sees himself lying of the deck floor, surrounded in red colored water, jumps quick to take the tiller. Alejandro simply responds:

“I got this! We’re almost there, hold on!”

Shore is dead ahead. Sandro goes off once more only to be brought back by a big wave that made the boat jump and its propeller cavitate out of the water with a loud roar.

He goes straight to the sand where some bystanders enjoy the warm sea water carelessly.

“HELP, HELP US!”

To be continued.