chapter 3 



Captain Shark-Killer 



The boy was 10 years old on that sum- 

 mer's day. A friendly fisherman had 

 taken the boy out to sea with him, and now the boat was sailing over 

 the rippling forests of kelp that cover the ocean floor at La JoUa, Cali- 

 fornia. Fascinated by the silent, shimmering beauty that swept before 

 him as he stared down through the clear water, the boy at first didn't 

 hear the fisherman's call. 



"Bill!" the fisherman shouted again. "Quick! Look over the other 

 side!" The boy darted to the other side of the boat and looked over the 

 gunwale. There, gliding through the kelp a few feet below the surface, 

 was a long, sinuous fish that looked like a graceful shadow amid the 

 tendrils of kelp. The fish was as long as the 20-foot boat. "That's a shark, 

 Bill," the fisherman said. Again, the boy didn't hear. For he was once 

 more enthralled by a look at beauty. But this was a beauty of strength 

 and boldness, and wrapped in that beauty, unseen, was a thing of terror. 



William Young, in 1885, had seen his first shark. In the many years 

 that were to follow, in the many places where he would pursue the shark, 

 William Young would never forget that shadow in the kelp beds of La 

 Jolla . . . 



In 1900, Bill Young and his brother Herb sailed away from their home 

 in California. Lured by a lust for adventure and fortune, they shipped 

 aboard a two-masted schooner bound for the Hawaiian Islands. They 

 found work there, but it was not exactly adventurous. They signed a 

 contract to haul to sea the garbage of the city of Honolulu. This was 

 the humble beginning of what would be a prosperous waterfront 

 business. It was also the beginning of Bill Young's lifelong passion for 

 catching sharks. 



The refuse from the city dump frequently included the carcasses of 

 horses. Whenever these carcasses were hauled to sea and dumped, hordes 

 of sharks would suddenly appear. In their frenzy to devour the off^al, 

 the sharks would turn the waters into a maelstrom of blood and snapping 

 jaws. 



This was not beauty. This was the shark with its grandeur stripped 

 away. So, there in the bloody seas off^ Honolulu, an older, wiser William 

 Young saw the other aspect of the shark, the thing of terror beneath 



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