Joe McAdory: Blue skies, surf, and monsters of the deep

Joe McAdory
Columnist
Published: May 9, 2008

The lifeguard frantically waved his bright orange flags and whistled with increased urgency.

“Get out of the water! Get out of the water!” folks beachside yelled at their friends and family who were otherwise enjoying the salty surf in Daytona Beach Shores, Fla., on another sweltering summer afternoon. People rushed ashore, obeying the command.

Except me.

Naturally, I’m the doofus who questions authority before I act upon demands.

“There is no reason for people to rush ashore,” I thought, just a 10-year-old kid wading in three feet of water. “There are no storm clouds in sight, so none of us are going to be struck by lightning today. The lifeguard is an idiot with a whistle.”

I refused to leave, gesturing to the blue skies all around. Folks beachside continued to point in my direction, pleading I join them.

“I’m having too much fun out here,” I thought. “The waves are perfect and there’s no riptide or strong undercurrents. What’s the big deal?”

Then I saw it. A dorsal fin. A biggin’.

That sucker rose nearly a foot out of the water, but it might as well been 10 feet. This was no aquarium with a protective plexiglass case. We shared this sandbar.

What happened in the next 20 seconds — between my shark-infested swimming oasis and dry land — I can’t remember but I’m sure running on top of the water at Carl Lewis speed was involved.

It didn’t matter that the fish never made a threatening move, nor that it was probably just a sand shark, but to this kid, I’d just come face-to-face with Jaws, Jack the Ripper of the seas.

Human shark encounters are unusual, but not rare. Just two weeks ago a veterinarian suffered fatal wounds as a result of an attack off the California coast. I just happened to grow up in the shark attack capital of the world, Volusia County, home of 210 recorded attacks since 1882, according to the International Shark Attack file. By comparison, the entire state of California has had just 98 attacks in the same time span.

Of Florida’s 577 attacks, only 13 have been fatal. Compare that to Hawaii, which has 113 attacks and 15 deaths. I can only surmise that sharks in Hawaii are larger or hungrier than sharks in Florida.

Heading into the summer beach season, it’s sometimes difficult to jump into the surf without having the word “shark” in the back of our minds, especially since Jaws re-runs seemingly air each week.

Popular beach destinations for many locals include Gulf Shores/Orange Beach and resorts along the Florida panhandle. These waters aren’t feeding frenzies like Volusia County, but Alabama has had five reported shark attacks (and five alligator attacks) over the years — none fatal — while panhandle counties Escambia, Okaloosa, Bay, Santa Rosa and Walton have a combined 16.

Last time I dipped myself in the Gulf, I was far more concerned with jellyfish than anything else.

Many beachside precautions taken today involve sunscreen (which is incredibly necessary) and floatation devices, as far more beach tragedies occur a result of human error than shark teeth.
But when the lifeguard frantically waves his orange flags and blows that whistle, don’t point and blue skies and think he’s an idiot. Get out of the water.

Joe McAdory is editorial page editor for the Opelika-Auburn News. He can be reached at 737-2549 or