Page 350 - The Tigris Expedition

The Tigris Expedition
by mistake he took a little shark on the hook. We fed them instead
like dogs, with leftovers, fish-heads and bones.
One day we had foul wind and our speed permitted bathing. We
found Gherman in the water alone before us, floating calmly on his
back with no less than ten friendly sharks keeping him company
with no sign of evil intent. From then on most of the men lost their
awe for the daily shark company; in fact the complete disrespect
was too flagrant at times, especially among the youngest on board,
who were left with the impression that only blue sharks, hammer­
head and tiger sharks would force them to climb out of the sea.
One day I let myself trail behind Tigris in the dinghy, lying with
my head under the water to look at two long pike-like barracudas,
scarcely trustworthy prospective man-eaters that swam with us for a
few days, grinning with jutting lower jaws full of fierce teeth. They
always swam side by side and deep below us. I removed the goggles
that did not quite fit my expedition beard, had just filled my lungs
and was head down to relocate the patrolling barracudas, when
something was right up against my hair. I looked up and right into a
face that had an expression as surprised as mine. I had seen the
broad, flat head of a shark before, but not nose to nose, and had
never before discovered that a fish could have an expression. Yet
this shark definitely had one, as much as I did, radiating friendly
curiosity and mild surprise. Being used to dogs, I was perhaps a bit
misled by the tail slowly wagging at the other end of the body, and
by the corners of the closed mouth that were drawn down as if in
bewilderment at what it saw. I saw a shark, but the shark saw the
bottom of the dinghy as a big round turtle with a bearded human
head at one end. From that moment I have promoted fish to the
reasoning species, not so far removed from the warm-blooded
beasts as I had always assumed.
Our friendly coexistence with domesticated sharks led to a
couple of near disasters. Carlo was sitting well outside the stern,
balancing on the narrow oar-blade, washing his old wound with
one hand and hanging on to a bit of rope with the other. He had
convinced himself, but not Yuri, that this daily salt-water cure was
good for the wound. Before this Gherman had been hanging on the
other oar after a good soap wash and was standing aft drying
himself when he suddenly shouted a warning to Carlo: ‘Shark!’
Carlo had long been sitting with one of the friendly little sharks
swinging from side to side beneath his feet, and answered, ‘I know’.
‘Shark! Shark! Get out!’ Gherman shouted again, for he had
discovered a ten-foot man-eater coming, fin above water at high

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