Shark Week

"I think it is very exciting that a man-eating shark has been spotted off the coast of Cornwall," Mr Baxter, an Australian marine biologist said.

I don't know about you, but if I was taking a holiday in England and spotted a man eating shark at the beach, I would head for the hills. In fact, I would head for the hills in any country where I spotted a shark at the beach. This article I just found on Nine MSN tells how there is potentially a great white shark up there, even though England is not the typical playground for these sharks.

I have to admit, I am fascinated by sharks. I love watching documentaries about sharks and different programs, and I love love love Shark Week on the Discovery Channel.

But.

I am also terrified of sharks. And I say that is rightly so. Um, my flailing legs, their sharp teeth, it just does not paint a pretty picture. Have you not seen Jaws??? Do you not watch CSI Miami?? I like to play it safe most of the time, and have been known to behave like a chicken. Right before I left for Australia, I was invited to go sailing on the Great Barrier Reef with the family I was originally bunking with shortly after my arrival. I was pretty damn excited. Excited until my mom said "Oh! If you have your period, don't go in the water!!! There are sharks!!!!!!!!! They will sniff you out!!"

Now, I don't know if I've mentioned this yet, but my mom is a professional psychic. And when she gives out warnings, sometimes, it is hard to decipher if she is being a protective mom, or if she has been struck with some intuition that I am going to die a horrible death by being eaten by a shark.

So there I was. There we were. Sailing upon the ocean blue, singing silly folk songs to each other and losing our hats to the wind and ocean. A family of four, plus two. That makes for five people all trying to coax me to jump off the damn boat and get in water because there are no flippin' sharks around. Woo-woo Melissa, watch out for that sea cucumber.

So I relented. I was safe, it was good time for me to go in....no reason for a shark to 'sniff me out'. (Damn you mom...). I snorkeled and swam. I recited in my head in my fake French accent "Welcome to Jacques Cousteau's underwater adventure..." and made up names for all the pretty fish and coral I saw. It was quite hysterical in my head, I assure you.

And there were no sharks. I survived~we all survived! In fact, most people who go to the beach survive because sharks are not attacking them. Ahhh....my crazy imagination.

But I will add this, to emphasize what a chicken I am. Later in the year, MJ and I went to Byron Bay for a week, she took surfing lessons. I did not. I was still scared of being eaten by a shark....