CUNDABILU 133 



I was alone outside the southern reef. The vertical visibility 

 was about thirty feet, which is good for the southern Red 

 Sea. Beyond the crown of madrepore the sandy bottom went 

 steeply and evenly down into the blue-green depths of the 

 open sea. Suddenly I saw a shark arriving half-way down. It 

 was quite big (about six feet long, but three times as round 

 and fat as the usual black-fins) and I took it for a dusky 

 shark or its cousin, a type, therefore, to avoid. The great 

 beast pointed its snout towards me very slowly. I took a 

 deep breath and went under. The gun was loaded so I waited 

 quietly in one spot. About five or six yards away the shark 

 turned towards me, then passed in front of me without paying 

 me any attention, and made straight for the reef I followed 

 it softly and quietly to see what it would do, keeping my 

 distance. It stopped its gentle progress and I found myself 

 at its back not more than four yards away. 'If I only had my 

 camera with me,' I thought holding my breath. Then an 

 extraordinary thing happened. A fish of not more than six 

 ounces, one of the thousands of striped holocanthus, sprang 

 determinedly and angrily out from the reef It propelled 

 itself with all the force of its tail and fins against the snout 

 of the great beast. In other words when it found itself at the 

 right distance it did exactly what all other fish do, and what 

 some terrestrial animals do, too, to chase another off — it 

 punched him with its nose. The shark cowardly turned his 

 back, went off as fast as he could and did not show up again. 



Sharks were *at home' at Cundabilu. The first time the 

 swimmers of the Formica went under there and exploded a 

 bomb, they came in dozens. There were great blue sharks 

 about twelve feet long as well as a brute of about sixteen feet 



