Friend or Food?

The more I snorkel, the fewer fish I eat. Yes, I know, fish eat fish. But after meeting an octopus, I was distressed to see her on the menu of a local café. Such grace and beauty, fried on a plate? No way, man. 

I am not a fan of ‘catch and release’ either. If you’re hungry, fine, catch a fish. Otherwise, leave them alone. How would you like it? Oops! Just kidding! Be on your way with a hole in your throat. ¿Still amigos?

Two spotted rays checked me out during a recent snorkel. They came up from behind, fluid flyers. The smaller one hung around a bit and came closer, while the larger one went on her way after giving me the side-eye. “I’m friend, not food,” I told the juvenile, and she glided past too.

Swimming early one morning, I saw a sea turtle. She zoomed in front of me and disappeared into the pre-dawn gloom. I recognized her from my time on Kaua’i. Those turtles weren’t as shy. Several times I caught them following me, and again, I had to say, “Friend, not food.” Remember the flick, Finding Nemo? The sharks are in a 12-step group with the motto: fish are friends, not food.

Speaking of sharks, I usually keep an eye out. And when I’m nervous about an unintentional meeting, I broadcast, “Friend not food. Just a bony human. Taste terrible.” I stopped eating them after seeing one in Manhattan Beach. I was on the pier, watching surfers, when I saw her right below. Freaked me out. A swimmer had been bitten a month before. When I calmed down, I could appreciate the sheer elegance of movement, the exquisite interplay of form and function. Didn’t stop me from screaming when I came face to face with one in Florida a few years later. Scared both of us.

I have an ancient shark’s tooth that I found with my grandfather when I was little. It’s black, and a St. Augustine jeweler told me it may be more than a million years old. Can you imagine? Maybe in a million years someone will find one of my teeth. Will they put it on a chain, too?