Sharks and kayak fishermen have always had an uneasy relationship given the close proximity of the fisherman to the water. Unlike any other fish in the ocean, they never give up the fight. While most are released, a couple are harvested each season. I’ve cut the bellies and gills out of sharks and had them look back at me with those shark eyes and sinister grin as if to say “That’s all you got.” And then make another series of powerful runs.
The Iceman’s shark was half his weight but still took the two of us to release. Once brought to the boat, I grabbed it by the nose with my left hand - with my right hand went in with plyers. This was not nearly as easy to do as it is to describe. Once the shark was free, it opened its mouth wide and made a final lunge for me.
I’m fast but I wasn’t fast enough - a row of razor sharp teeth cut me to the bone. Quickly pulling my bloody hand close to my chest, I trembled with fear and the thought of what might have happened had the shark been a little faster or I a little slower raced through my mind.
With my blood trailing from his mouth, we watched as the dark figure descended into the deep La Jolla Canyon beneath us. The deck of my kayak was now bloody but it was my own blood.
Looking towards the west and to all sharks everywhere, the Slay Rider shouted out in anger “THAT”S ALL YOU GOT”.