62 DAHLAK 



my presence, for the simple reason that until now I had been 

 beating a retreat; I had not in fact reacted as any large 

 plundering fish would normally have reacted after being 

 disturbed for so long. Just then the wound of the bream tore 

 open, the flights of the harpoon slipped out, and the corpse 

 of the fish sank to rest on the bottom. Instinctively I took a 

 breath of air and plunged down to recover it. The shark 

 (without the deep breath of air) did the same. We found 

 ourselves face to face at the base of that shelf with the 

 bream immobile between us. The whole episode lasted less 

 than ten minutes, and this final scene no more than a 

 minute, but as is always the case under water, the time 

 seemed four times as long. 



The shark was three yards away now, pointing straight at 

 me like a baton, but its muzzle was directed at the bream. 

 Remaining almost incredibly still, in half-depth, it stared at 

 me. My mind was working frantically, but one thought 

 predominated: 'Don't let yourself be done down by a fish.' 

 I looked him in the eyes and saw for the first time that these 

 were yellow with black vertical pupils like cats' eyes. They 

 were not so much fierce as furtive, almost vile, the eyes of a 

 blackguard. The dead bream was still there, lying midway 

 between us. Slowly, very slowly, I stretched out my left 

 arm, advancing perhaps a yard, then I pounced and grasped 

 it by the tail, simultaneously letting out a yell that rose to 

 the surface like an explosive bubble. But my courage quickly 

 evaporated. Half-way through my bold act I was seized by 

 a sudden violent panic. What was happening? Water 

 entered my mask and half filled it. I kicked like a madman 

 in my struggle to withdraw on to the reef With the first 

 kick I saw the shark do a sharp three-quarter twist. Its body 

 or its nose had had a thwack from one of my fins. In that 

 second I was convinced that its teeth were on me. 



