Sharks Are Man's Best Friend

Sharks are predators. In order to eat, they kill. You might deem that to be brutal. However, in the grand scheme of things, their purpose, in relation to the health of the ocean and the overall world, is vital. You may call that beautiful. Brutally beautiful.

Dr. Patrick Newbery, a marine biologist at heart and a professor by duty, indeed found that beautiful. In particular, he admired the beauty of the great white. His obsession with the king predator of the oceans began in his youth when his father brought home a VHS copy of “Jaws”. He loved the film. His only gripe with it was that he wanted to see more shark. That first time he watched it, he remained on the carpet afterwards in front of the television, rewinding and fast-forwarding to the shark attacks. Rather than fear the great white, he marveled at it, becoming enamored with the animal. The blood-concentrated water gushing from its point of contact with victims – a mere stroke of paint to compliment the nature of things. Of course, he would learn afterwards as many shark-enthusiasts do that these primeval killing machines do not favor human meat. And they are not indiscriminate eaters that feast on the tires and soup cans of the oceans. Although curious at times, they mostly follow a fat-rich paleo diet and humans are not part of it.

His fascination grew the more he learned and it blossomed into a fine academic career. Along with fellow students, he went on many exhibitions and often found himself underwater with these feared creatures. Always in the safety of a cage. As a doctoral student, his research topic was the mating ritual of great whites, a mystery at the time. After many weeks of tracking the activity of great whites off the coast of Guadalupe, he found himself submerged in a cage, right behind a mature pair of male and female sharks. Sensing that they were prime for mating, he began to record them with his camera. As they progressed, they furthered themselves from the cage. Rather than record until they went out of focus, young Patrick Newbery left the cage and followed them, always rolling. As a result, he became the first individual to record the entire mating ritual of great white sharks on film. Soon after, he became Dr. Patrick Newbery.

Having been that close to the great whites, especially during their most intimate moment, he would never again settle to observe them from within the confines of a cage. His desire was to be with them in the open, and to get as close as possible. His latest and last research – or hobby – consisted of swimming routinely with a male fifteen-footer that he named Andy. He wanted to prove in swimming with Andy that great whites and humans were able to form and maintain relationships with reciprocated respect, trust, and care. To conduct this research, he went back to the island in Mexico where he had done his seminal work. With his team, they hooked and hauled Andy onto their boat and drilled a tag into his dorsal fin. That way, they were always assured to never be too far apart.

The following days, Dr. Patrick Newbery would drop himself in the waters close to Andy to meet up with him. Naturally, there were several precautions he took to remain safe. After all, Dr. Patrick Newbery himself would tell you that he was not delusional. He understood as well as if not better than everyone how efficiently deadly his new friend was. Coming up close to Andy, he always approached him from the side; he knew that great whites always attacked from the bottom. Furthermore, he was always ready to stand his ground if ever Andy and he got into a disagreement.

Days turned into weeks and into months. This successful interspecies relationship became a national story and many copycats emerged. Some quickly got into accidents with their sea friends, causing the new trend to quickly die. But Dr. Patrick Newbery knew that the unfortunate had just not implemented his foolproof approach.

A promising warm Sunday morning set the stage for a memorable final swim between the two friends. As he had been doing so for months, he parked his boat right by where Andy appeared on his radar, put on his scuba gear, and sunk into the cozy waters. Before long, he noticed Andy at a distance and swam up to his side, closing in on one foot at a time, tugging playfully at his blue-grey pectoral fin – which had become his signature greeting. With their heads eventually side by side, they swam in sync. Then without warning, Andy let Dr. Patrick Newbery swim slightly ahead, turned into him, and closed his jaws into his torso.