Captain Shark-Killer 69 



The lifeboat came alongside the plane at last. Seamen snatched the survivors 

 out of the wreckage. They saved Mrs. Atkins, the pilot, the mechanic, the nurse 

 and Abrahams. But Atkins, his two sons and Miss McDonald were lost. 



Had Atkins been alive when the shark found him? I don't know. I do believe, 

 however, that more than one shark got Atkins, dead or alive. Since no other 

 remains were found in the shark I caught, I assume that several sharks attacked 

 the body. And I assume that the other victims met the same awful fate. 



The Brown shark, by the way, is Hsted by some so-called experts as a "harm- 

 less" shark, 



Trinidad 



The hand again. 



I was in the smoking-room of an island steamer going from St. Thomas to 

 Trinidad. Again, I had struck up a conversation with a fellow passenger. Again, 

 we had started talking about sharks. Again, the question, "Will a shark eat a 

 man? " Again, the persistent pleas to see the picture. And again, I showed it. 



It was then that my companion told me that he had been a boyhood chum 

 of Edwin Atkins. 



I should destroy the photograph, I guess. It almost seems to be cursed. Yet, 

 in thinking it over, I believe I will continue to show it when a skeptic demands 

 proof of the claim that sharks eat men. In that way, perhaps, it will serve as a 

 vividly grim reminder to beware of sharks. 



Fernadina, Florida 



Pete the Shark says he can smell sharks when they're around, and sometimes 

 I think he actually can. In fact, I have wondered a couple of times if Pete isn't 

 part shark himself. 



I had figured out a new way of netting sharks by allowing a net to drift 

 along vertically with the tide, instead of securing it at the bottom with anchors. 

 We went out today to try the new technique because Pete said he had smelled 

 sharks. 



We set out the net, and we didn't have long to wait to see how well the 

 drifting net idea worked. Minutes after we set the net adrift the nearest buoy 

 disappeared. 



We hauled in a big Tiger shark. Even before we had him killed and stowed 

 aboard, another buoy disappeared. We pulled in the net again and found a big 

 Tiger thrashing in it. 



Again, and again, for four back-breaking hours we let out the net and hauled 

 it in, each time landing a shark. 



Frequently, we netted a batch of skates and rays. We cut them up and left 

 them in the net, providing a bloody bait for the next shark which happened 

 along. There is no better scent to be had. 



The sharks kept striking the net and we kept pulling them in. When the 

 thirty-sixth shark had been hauled into the 20-foot boat, there was barely 3 

 inches of freeboard left. A fair-sized wave would have swamped the boat and 

 sent Pete and me spilling into some obviously sharky waters. 



We hailed a nearby shrimp boat which took us in tow. But we had such a 



