Bill McDougall takes a 15-pound grouper from Ed Sutherland- 

 changed from white to green to pink as I slipped along. The 

 thrum of the water was vibrant against my ear drums. When I 

 came up for air, Bill pointed out several large spotted grouper 

 finning slowly around a gray coral table. "There's your supper 

 down there," he grinned. "Go get it." 



In spite of previous assurances, I cast a quick glance around 

 for a telltale shark fin before I slid on my mask and started 

 down. Heart pounding, I drew back the sling into firing position 

 . . . closer . . . closer . . . now! To my utter dismay, I missed. The 

 grouper moved off unhurriedly. 



Topside I found McDougall grinning. "Go back and get 'em 

 this time get closer." 



Down I went again. A school of tiny goldfish lazed past. A 

 gorgeously hued green parrot fish swam near me, curious. Sud- 

 denly I felt uneasy, and angled a quick glance over my shoulder. 

 Not 30 feet away the 4-foot-long body of a vicious-looking barra- 

 cuda hung suspended in the green water! The others were watch- 

 ing me from above. I continued after the grouper. 



Picking out a big fellow, I approached so closely I was sure I 

 would bump him but I didn't so I swam even closer. Then I 

 released the gun I had him! He jerked frantically but I hung 

 onto my gun and made for the surface with my 5-pound prize. 



Later that day I went overboard again to watch Bill's battle 

 with a huge jewfish. Wearing his Aqua-lung, he stalked the mon- 

 ster in its coral cavern. Boom boom boom clearly came the 

 sound of the jewfish's tail swinging to and fro. Then, with a 

 challenging grunt he emerged, finning slowly at his tormentor. 



Suddenly a long path of bubbles shot through the water, and 

 the deadly barb sped true to its mark. Bill was already making 

 for the boat where the men had control of the wire cable attached 

 to his barb. As we watched, the great fish turned the ocean bot- 

 tom into a turmoil, smashing the delicate ferns, toppling the 

 fragile coral houses. Finally he subsided, glowering up at us. 



If I was a little absent-minded when I said good-by later on, it 

 was because I was already thinking of the spear gun I was going 

 to buy, and I knew I would soon see the Neptune Club again 

 under water. 



142 Barracuda, dreaded by bathers, are routine targets for gogglers- 



