My cousin, my nemesis.
My cousin, my hero. Martin Leslie
(1985)
by Jayson Forman
Watching the sharks get fed at my uncle’s shark pen at Tackle Box Bar was always a chilling reminder that sharks are sharks no matter what brand they claim to be.
My cousin would throw a bucket full of feed which was a mix of sardines and fish guts. The initial splash sound would startle all the aquarium creatures and they would scatter about in fright only to return seconds later to the source of the sound and start vacuuming as much chum as possible. So much so that the nurse sharks’ heads would occasionally bob above water as they tried to eat floating sardine bits nudged on the top of other sharks’ heads.
The turtles would, of course, be the last ones to the party and would take advantage of any floating leftovers or pieces that the menagerie missed.
At times it looked like they weren’t even really eating it. They just seemed to be hoovering as much food as possible while it was available. No matter how much feed was thrown in the pen, the whole mayhem would be over in less than 5 minutes with the eagle rays and juvenile sharks occasionally circling to validate if the lingering smell of bait had any remaining nuggets to devour.
I always walked around the pen’s platform tenuously being very aware of all the terrifying sea creatures that lurked just feet below me.
One of my cousins frequently fed them and would occasionally jump into the pen to retrieve any fallen items from tourists like watches, underwear cameras or the unintentional pina colada glass that fell into it.
He was used to it and had grown numb to the occupants which, I think, is why it annoyed him that I didn’t empathize with that emotion.
He’d often threaten to push me in but wouldn’t follow through. The few times he tried to, I would quickly jump into the sea, outside the fenced area and swim to shore.
At some point, after a recent hurricane, the pen was compromised and almost all the animals escaped. Or so we assumed.
I was snorkeling under the Tackle Box Bar soon after, picking up discarded Belikin bottles to recycle for cash, when I saw unusual dark mass by the side of what remained of the pen. Didn’t take long to realize that it was 3 adult sized nurse sharks huddled together asleep.
If I could walk on water, I would have. It didn’t take me much time to swim to shore and retire from that activity.
About a month after the hurricane, I had heard that the pen had been rebuilt and they were repopulating it so I went to take a look. I walked half way around the platform and thought I heard a wooden board squeak but I hadn’t taken a step yet so I was confused….
I looked back just in time to see my cousin’s evil glare and felt his hands on my back and off I went flying … in the wrong direction….
As before, my initial splash scared all the animals away but I knew it would just be a matter of seconds before their curiosity would trigger them to return to the source of the disturbance in case it was food.
The tank was too deep for my feet to touch so I only had the choice to swim. Adding to my fright, my cousin actually threw some bait on the opposite side of me and I could already see the frenzy of shark heads bobbing out to eat whatever was there.
As I finally reached the edge of the tank and started to try to climb out of it, gripping at anything but failing, I used the little bit of breath in me to yell as loud as I could, aware that the only person around to help me was the one who pushed me in the first place.
As I was giving up hope from exhaustion and fear, this gigantic hand reached out from my peripheral and grabbed my arm, lifting me out to safety and grabbed my cousin with his other arm and pushed him in the direction of the feeding frenzy.
It was my cousin Martin Leslie. Only god knows where the hell he came from because I know I didn’t see him when I arrived. But thank god for him. He didn’t hesitate to lift me out from the tank and he knew immediately that it was my other cousin who had pushed me in.
He then walked over to him and said, “you see how it feels to pick on someone smaller than you?”
Do it again and I’ll make sure that you end up as shark feed!”
He then offered his hand and helped him out of the shark pen as well….
Nurse shark, Bull shark, Great White shark.
Doesn’t matter.
I respect them all equally…
Kimberly Gonzalez: Tony was out there once when a tourist bet $100 if he would jump in and swim from one side to the next so he did. He said he was more worried about the turtles biting him than the sharks.
Janis Morin: I never had a desire to jump into the tank either.