Adventure Cove
Dear Readers,
Here you can find some of Jack’s selected adventures. More material will be added along the way.
My humble hope is that you will enjoy reading them.
Respecfully,
Edward L.
Table of Contents
I – The Tragedy of the Valley of Seven Whispers
II – Take Me Down to the Depths, My Mighty Friend
III – The Killer From the Emerald Abyss
I – The Tragedy of the Valley of Seven Whispers
Excerpt from Jack Ulcer’s Caribou Diary, November 2007
Monday, November 5, 2007: “I am surviving the caribou migration, but I am scared. I am truly and utterly terrified and shaken to the core. I feel like I don’t have many days left in this world and my brain tells me to bring the migration to an end immediately. But it is too late. I cannot run away. I am trying my best to fend off the terror crawling inside my body, but every night the same mysterious and menacing feeling fills my heart and wakes me up from my fragile sleep. The feeling is so real and scary that ice-cold chills run through my bones and the little mirror I carry in my pocket reflects the face of an emotionally beaten man. A man knowing that the unforgiving Alaskan wilderness will soon claim his soul forever.
The reason for my terror is not the Alaskan killer cold or caribou hoofs, but something more concrete and something human beings have been hard-wired to be wary of since the beginning of mankind: wolves.
The wolves that make me so nervous silently appeared four days ago. They descended like dark ghosts from the misty mountains surrounding the valley where the caribou herd is currently traveling – The Valley of Seven Whispers. My long-time friend, Colonel Robert August Montgomery, named this valley after its mysterious echoes and the ominous feeling he got when he was passing through this forgotten place. The distinguished Colonel also warned me about the vicious wolves that reign supreme in the valley and begged me to bring a high-caliber gun before entering there. I did not follow his advice. I did not follow his advice because I am the one who is intruding the balanced Alaskan nature and the one who should thus bear the consequences if something goes wrong because of my actions. I decided that if I am killed because of my migration madness, so be it. And now my friends, I am going to pay the ultimate price for that decision. I don’t regret it, but I might die because of it. This is how it goes in life I guess. We don’t necessarily regret some things we do, but they can still drag us down.
The wolves have already killed at least 5 young caribou calves and I was bitten last night pretty badly. The attack on me was fortunately not life threatening, but I have a clear bite mark on my left calf. The fact that I was bitten is very scary, but even scarier is the reality that a large male wolf was about to bite my head off during the early hours of the morning. His yellow eyes were gleaming just inches from my eyes and I could smell the warm blood-scented breath of the great beast lingering in the air. The wolf could have taken my life in an instant, but he didn’t. He was just staring me for a few moments and for some unknown reason left me alone after taking a quick taste of my calf. Maybe he was full of caribou meat, or just though I was too ugly son of a gun to be eaten. Whatever the reason, Jack Ulcer had survived another terrifying night in the wilderness.
Tuesday, November 6, 2:00 p.m.: The herd and I still have at least 15 miles to travel before we are out of this valley of death and fear. The time required to travel this distance feels like an eternity in this dreadful situation. The wolves killed today another 6 caribou and I gave myself a 20% chance of surviving the Valley of Seven Whispers. I know that when the night falls tonight, my destiny will be sealed. I also know that when the wolves come for me I will be ready. I will fight, but accept the fact that it will be just for the sake of a dignified end for me. I stand no chance against these strong predators, but I will fight.
9:00 p.m.: I now see the darkness around me clearly and smell the fear of the caribou. I smell the fear of Jack Ulcer and hear my heart pounding in the forbidding wilderness. The merciless wolves are near; they howl at the moon and prepare for their last slaughter. They are coming soon; I can feel it in my bones. They will start their attack at any moment and the pack will inevitably end my days under the nightly sky of the Alaskan wilderness.
I begin to think about my life and my contributions to this world. Did I do enough, or was my story just another chapter in the endless book of life – another soul passing by without any seemingly meaningful reason? What if I didn’t do or experience enough? Does it matter? Does someone care? I truly don’t know, but a feeling of sadness filled my brain. I am really going to go this time.
10:00 p.m.: Even if I am doomed, the scene around me is absolutely beautiful. I sit under the starry skies surrounded by magnificent mountains and sounds and smells that have been here long before the first human being took his first step on this planet. This is true nature in its original form. Here beauty can hide a killer and mountains witness a dying creature without a single drop of pity or compassion. It is cruel world, but a rational world. It is not a conniving or backstabbing world, but a straightforward world where one death helps others to stay alive and a where a slightest mistake can cost your life. There is no glory in this unforgiving world, but all the creatures living here undeniably have guts.
11:00 p.m.: While I was thinking about the deeper meaning of nature, I realized that a young caribou was being dragged to his death nearby. I knew that I was going to be next. I could see clearly the menacing shadows of the approaching wolves and the caribou panicking and running away from me. I knew that separation from the herd would be the most dangerous thing that can happen in this situation, but I could not help it. I simply couldn’t keep up with the caribou running at full speed. I can keep up with the caribou when they travel at normal speed, but if they decide to really run, I will fall far behind. There was nothing I could have done to keep up with the herd that night and I was soon alone, ready to face my destiny. I was terribly aware that my fearless assassins were closing in like a freight train – unstoppable.
A few petrifying seconds went by and the wolves quickly surrounded me, seven of them to be exact. Their eyes were glowing brightly and their bodies prepared for an attack, ready to take me down. As these large beasts closed in for the kill, I unexpectedly felt a weird and amazing warmness inside me. I felt like nothing could hurt me anymore. Maybe this was another human mechanism that allowed me to accept the fact that I was going to die and would enable me to go peacefully, go with dignity. No more panic, no more fear. I just looked at the wolves with respect and valued the fact that year after year these animals survive the harsh Alaskan winters and raise their cubs successfully. And they don’t complain. If you complain here, you die.
I wanted my last moments to be the last moments of Jack Ulcer, not the moments of a poorly camouflaged caribou. Thus, I took my caribou outfit off and raised my arms, ready for the final battle. I shouted as loudly as I could “COME ON, LET’S GET IT OVER WITH”, but nothing happened. The wolves just seemed to be confused and even looked a little scared to me, if I was not completely misreading their behavior. I don’t know why, but they didn’t seem to be willing to kill me anymore; in fact, they were leaving. It was like I was poisonous, or something that no self-respecting wolf wants to touch. This may sound very bizarre, but I was almost disappointed. Like Jack Ulcer was not good enough for them.
There I was, all alone watching the wolves running in the distance, killing another caribou under the moonlight. I was standing in the middle of the Valley of the Seven Whispers, crying and shaking. I didn’t feel warm anymore. I felt like I was a victim of the cruelest of the jokes, like someone had put a gun on my head and shot a blank. I put my head in my hands and knelt down. The mountains were watching me. They were watching me in the same way they would have watched me being ripped to pieces, without a single drop of pity or compassion. The wilderness does not care if you die or not.
Wednesday, November 7: I believe that the confusion triggered by me taking of the caribou outfit saved my life. The wolves simply didn’t feel comfortable killing me. However, the wolf pack sadly did feel comfortable killing many other caribou and when the first morning light broke, the true scale of the carnage revealed itself. The snowy grass around me was covered with blood and carcasses and it was evident that scores of caribou had lost their lives during the final assault of the wolves. It was a terrible scene and I wanted to leave the valley behind me as fast as possible. I consider myself to be a fairly strong man, but this time I felt deeply traumatized by the events that had unfolded in front of my very eyes.
Later that day I managed to catch up with the herd and started to run with the caribou toward the end of the valley. From the far distance I could see the open plains and small icy lakes appearing again, glimmering brilliantly under the scarce and rare arctic sunlight. The plains looked beautiful and full of hope. I was going to survive the Valley of Seven Whispers, the valley that almost took my life. The valley that left something permanent in me that I still cannot quite put my finger on. Something that tells me that we humans are just beginning to understand the secrets of this great planet. Something that tells me that people should be extremely careful when intervening with the fragile balance nature has created. Something that tells me that we don’t fully understand what we are messing with here…”
Jack Ulcer – The Caribou Diary
II – Take Me Down to the Depths, My Mighty Friend
Excerpt from Jack Ulcer’s Jungle Diary, August 2006
“An ancient creature of the dark and murky waters of the Amazon River has changed me forever. I am now more convinced than ever before that there is so much more in the surrounding nature than the human eye is able to see. I can feel the great complexity and unexplained purpose lying under the seemingly simple surface of the wild that we just cannot yet fully appreciate and understand. There is something truly amazing and unfathomably ingenious hidden in the wilderness that only hundreds of thousands of years of brilliant evolution could have produced. If we destroy our last untouched lands and waters without even trying to find out the secrets and wisdoms they hide, we should be treated as the biggest fools who ever lived in the history of the universe.”
The story I am about to tell you began on a dark and rainy August night in the year 2006, the Year of the Red Fire Dog. I was on a month-long solo expedition trip in the deep jungles of the Amazon River and had just finished my daily collection of forest food, consisting of some small figs and large snails living under a huge Kapok tree behind my little tent by the river. I prepared a quick and tasty jungle dinner and was getting ready to retire to my tent for a good night’s sleep. Before hitting the sack, I however decided to take a quick dip in the mighty river to wash away the grubby feeling coming from the hard and sweaty expedition day behind me. I jumped into the dark and gloomy river and savored the clean, refreshing feeling coming from the cool water rinsing off the dirt and soil from my exhausted and beaten body. I started to swim slowly toward the other side of the river, while holding a rope in my left hand I had tied to a Balsa tree near by. I wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t float too far away from my campsite, or in an extreme scenario, be dragged to the depths by the strong river currents.
As I was casually swimming in the darkness and marveling at the ominously dark forest sky, I suddenly felt a gentle jolt on my left foot. I thought I had hit a rock or a sunken log and just continued to swim without paying too much attention to what had just happened. Soon however I felt the jolt again, but this time it was stronger and it dragged me under the water for a second or two. Now I was getting slightly nervous, knowing that this part of the river is infested with piranhas and large crocodiles. I didn’t feel any pain on my body, but I decided that it was probably a good idea to start swimming as fast as possible back to the river shore and the safety of my camp. But it was too late. I now saw a large dark shape approaching me from the direction of my camp with startling speed; and whatever it was, it would catch me before I could reach the shore.
I prepared for the encounter with this unknown enemy rising from the deep darkness and stopped swimming. I was ready to do a bit of crocodile wrestling, but to my great surprise, nothing attacked me. It was now silent around me and only the occasional monkey howls and the sounds of the giant raindrops hitting the river surface were disturbing the calmness of the dark Amazonian night. But there was still something in the water watching me. Whatever the thing was, it now started moving in my direction. The movement was this time slow and more controlled, and it looked like the thing was now ready to execute its deadly plan. I was sure that it was not a log or a floating branch; it was something big and very much alive. At first I thought it was a snake or an electric eel, but I soon realized that the snake-like shape I had seen was actually just a whisker on a head of something extremely big. The unknown creature now swam closer and closer to me and finally its huge head was just inches away from me. I finally saw the unknown beast in its entirety and immediately felt a feeling of great relief entering my body. This thing would not hurt me. It was just a giant catfish.
I was pleased that there was not a crocodile in the water and took a closer look at the catfish. It seemed to be totally unafraid of me and showed no sign of aggression or agitation. I knew that this was extremely abnormal catfish behavior and used the rare opportunity to get closer to this giant fish and study it. I ran my palm along its long whiskers and looked into his eyes. He was very calm and gentle-natured, but I could see a strange sadness in his face. Maybe he was injured or lonely, but there was definitely something that made the fish look deeply worried. Maybe it was his past or the future that bothered him, but there was something in the eyes of this gentle giant that reflected an event of tremendous loss. I spent a few more minutes with the giant fish and then started to swim slowly back to the shore. The fish followed me and seemed unwilling to be left alone. When I got out of the river and headed back to the camp, I could still see the fish circling near the shore. I was extremely puzzled by the behavior of this fish and the encounter kept me awake for a few hours before I fell into a deep sleep.
When I woke up the next morning the first thing that came to my mind was Dirty Harry. I have no idea why Dirty Harry was on my mind in the middle of the Amazon rainforest, but I somehow associated that name with the catfish I had encountered last night. I thus felt that it was only fair that I should name the catfish Callahan.
I went to the riverbank again to brush my teeth, and the first thing I saw was Callahan. He was swimming near the river surface and looking happy this time. I jumped into the river and started swimming to the other side of the river like I did last night and Callahan was following me close by. I could even hold his red tail while he was swimming and used his incredible strength and endurance to tow me back to the shoreline. Once I got back to land, I saw a few large snails on the ground and tossed them to Callahan. He seemed to appreciate my gesture and pushed a floating mango fruit toward me with his giant head. He was trying to return the favor. I could not believe what I was witnessing.
The next day I took a longer swimming trip with Callahan and also brought my diving goggles along. We dove through small underwater caves and visited some hiding places occupied by other catfish. The catfish swam away when they saw me, but Callahan was diving happily with me and leading the way to even deeper waters and fascinating underwater rock formations. We swam almost the whole day together and I saw some incredible river life and beauty that I could have never have found without my bewhiskered guide. It was one of the best days of my life. It was also one of the best days of my life because I had experienced a completely healthy river environment with pristine shores and abundant wildlife. Callahan was surely lucky to have the chance to call this strikingly beautiful place home.
I spent two more days in my river camp, and Callahan was around me the whole time. We took a few more swimming trips and I fed him a couple of more snails, but sooner than I wanted, the time came for me to leave this amazing river haven. I packed my gear and looked Callahan into his placid eyes one last time. He was truly my friend and this was the very first time I had felt a genuine connection between a wild creature and myself. I would have never thought that a catfish would be my first wild animal friend, but now I am grateful that Callahan was the one that broke the ice.
When I looked at Callahan, I saw again the same sadness that I had seen in his face when I first met him. Like he was aware that something terrifying and menacing was in store for his future. Like he could see the destruction that would one day take the happiness and his river home away from him. I truly hoped nothing like this would ever happen here, but knowing how we humans are, I was sadly aware that Callahan’s fears might have a realistic base. Feeling a bit blue myself, I entered the deep jungle and glanced back to the river one last time to wave goodbye to Callahan. But the beautiful river was empty, just giant raindrops falling on the surface of the murky water.
Two weeks later, I was on my way back home and sailing on a ship carrying tropical fruit and other commodities to the consumers of the world. On one quiet and balmy evening the ship stopped at a small ocean port and I started to think about Callahan again. I started to think about the possibility of communicating with animals and nature in an understandable way. What would Callahan ask? What would all the other creatures of the wild ask from me? I thought about their possible questions with eagerness, but soon started to feel uneasy and even ashamed. What if they would ask why we humans pollute the same rivers and oceans that provide us our livelihoods? What if they would ask why we humans bite the hand that truly feeds us all? What if they would ask, what has nature done to us to deserve this destruction?
I don’t know if I would be able to answer their questions. I don’t know how I would explain why we dump thrash in someone’s ocean home and ask him to invite us to a house party at the same time. I don’t know how I would explain why humans are so smart that we actually become dumb and destroy our own habitat with our ingenious inventions. I could not answer why we are able to invent weapons that no animal is able to create natural protection against. I would not be able to explain why humans are so exorbitantly superior that we have the power to take all the other creatures down if we fall?
I know though that we are smart enough to understand that we are treating our oceans and forests in an unacceptable and completely unreasonable manner. We are smart enough to acknowledge that we are going to destroy our own world if we continue on this shortsighted path. It should be part of common sense and human decency to realize that we cannot dump waste into our oceans or destroy forests and fish populations until nature is bleeding to death.
I am not talking about global warming or the meltdown of the arctic ice. I am simply talking about showing some basic respect toward the nature that supports us all. People should not be labeled as tree huggers or fanatic environmentalist if they simply acknowledge that our oceans must be protected and our forests have other purposes besides fulfilling the needs of the endless human greed and materialism. They are a home to the world that provides everything we have. It is a disgrace what we are sometimes doing to this planet we dare to call home. Forget the debates, whale-wars and demonstrations. It is just simply wrong what we are doing. It is a gross violation against the very civility we humans think we exclusively understand.
I suddenly felt like I wasn’t ready talk with the animals anymore.
-Jack Ulcer-
III – The Killer From the Emerald Abyss
Excerpt from Jack Ulcer’s Diary, August 2004
August 15, 2004, Point Lobos State Reserve, California Coast, USA: “I have now been here in beautiful Point Lobos for four days. My mission is to enjoy the great underwater natural wonders of the California Coast and study the yellowtail rockfish and the beautiful bluefish schools that inhabit the waters of a place better known as The Bluefish Outer Pinnacle. The weather in Point Lobos has been absolutely amazing, and the waters are surprisingly clear and calm for this time of the year. I cannot remember the last time I was this happy. I feel like I have a great bargain in my hands. I brought nothing here, but will be taking with me a great amount of spectacular memories that will nourish me for the rest of my life. I know that I will never forget this place, but I hope that this place will forget me soon. I hope that just a couple of Jack Ulcer’s shoeprints will be left on the sand, once I say goodbye to the shores and the wild creatures of this incredible jewel of nature. This place is perfect as it is. We don’t need to add or change anything here. Any amendment would just be a gross insult to the brilliance of nature’s perfect design.
August 16, 2004. Today something extremely terrifying and disturbing happened to me. I was almost devoured by a great beast that rose from the silence of the emerald-colored abyss. I feel extremely lucky and blessed to have survived the incident and to be able to tell you my story. Here is what happened on that day when an unfathomable terror looked straight into my eyes:
I woke up in the morning of August 16th and was amazed by the calmness of the sea and the warmness of the gentle coastal breeze. I felt almost a little hot in my grandfather’s old army jacket and was very eager to get out to the sea and enjoy yet another great day of examining the abundant wildlife of the breathtaking Point Lobos. I decided to venture out to Sea Lion Rocks, a cluster of outcrops coming out of bedrock a few hundred yards from the shoreline. I had heard that the waters around the rocks would be teeming with different species of fish and I would have a good chance of spotting California sea lions, sea otters or even killer whales. I had also been warned about a violent whirlpool called Devil’s Cauldron that swirls between the shore and Sea Lion Rocks. This made me a bit wary, but an adventurous trip to the rocks was clearly something I could not pass, regardless of the risks involved.
I enthusiastically prepared my surfboard for the trip and was soon ready to start my exciting day on the glimmering ocean. I started to paddle slowly toward the rocks and estimated that it would take approximately 30 minutes to reach them in this benign and serene weather. I was not going to hurry to get there and was just paddling leisurely, enjoying the great scenery all around me. I noticed a couple of seagulls resting on the calm ocean surface and spotted a peculiar looking fish breaking the surface and catching a small butterfly trapped by the water’s tension. In this moment I felt complete relaxation in my mind and body. This was a paradise on earth, and I was lucky enough to be alive today. I had to pinch myself to really appreciate the fact that I was physically here in Point Lobos and to remind myself how fortunate I was to be enjoying one of the most beautiful views on the whole planet.
I was now about 30 feet from Seal Lion Rocks and decided to take a short break before exploring the surroundings of the rocks in more detail. I pulled my legs and arms onto the board and just laid down for a moment and marveled at the deep blue California sky. The gentle balmy wind was rocking the board just a little, but the sea was otherwise calm and millions of sunbeams were reflecting from the still water brilliantly. A couple of young sea otters were backstroking among the kelp, playing games with each other, and I could hear sea lions barking somewhere in the far distance. It was a beautiful day to be out on the ocean and all the living creatures here seemed to be happy and relaxed. The tranquility was only interrupted when the two seagulls I had seen before suddenly took off and started to fly toward the open ocean with loud squawks. They were probably now fully rested and decided to catch a few fish for lunch. Now it was just the ocean, the sea otters and Jack Ulcer.
As I was getting ready to continue my short journey, I though I saw something breaking the calm ocean surface about 100 yards from my board. I don’t know what it was, but it did not look like the fish I had seen before. Maybe it was a dolphin or possibly a sea otter playing around, but I was not quite sure what it was, since I only got a short glimpse of the shape that had cut the tension of the water’s surface. I did not really want to accept it, but my brain told me that what I had seen was a fin. This made me think that there was probably a school of dolphins hunting near by and I decided to investigate this a bit more. This could turn out to be fun day out on the ocean with a group of playful dolphins.
I put on my diving goggles and a snorkel and jumped into the cool water. I held onto my board with my right hand and looked down to the abyss searching for the dolphins. The water was quite clear despite of the thick underwater kelp forest, and I could see all the way to the bottom of the ocean. There was a school of kelp surfperch swimming right under me, and I could see a few very large gopher rockfish circling near the bottom. There was also a big grey rock sitting on the seabed and some small pilot fish swimming around it. It was a beautiful sight down there, but to my disappointment, I did not see any dolphins.
I got some seawater in my goggles and had to take them off for cleaning to avoid the salt getting into my eyes. I used this moment to rest on my board, but soon jumped back into the water to search for the elusive dolphins one more time. I looked down to the deep and the rockfish were still there and some more surfperch had now joined the school. However, the large grey rock was no longer there and this made me think that I had floated away from the spot where I had first dipped into the water. I looked around, but soon realized that I had not moved away from my original position. This made me slightly confused, since normally I am quite good in knowing my location in the wild and can follow the navigation signs of nature pretty well. But then it hit me. A feeling of absolute terror washed through my brain. How stupid I had been, the rock had not been a rock, but a huge Great White Shark resting on the bottom of the ocean.
I was now just staring down at the empty spot where the rock had been and noticed that now all the other fish were also gone. The only thing left was the kelp forest moving slowly with the underwater current. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down and hoped that I was just confused about the rock I had seen. But my hopes were just hopes and the reality was something very different. I knew it in my heart that there had been a very large shark just a short distance from me, but my mind was not ready to accept this terrifying fact just yet.
As I was carefully scanning the seabed for the shark, I suddenly got a chilling feeling that there was something in the water with me. I could sense that something was right behind me, looking at me. I slowly turned around and there it was. Only about 20 inches from my face, a colossal female great white was staring at me with her black piercing eyes. I cannot describe the horror I felt when I saw this ultimate predator analyzing me with its deadly eyes, but I was extremely close to passing out from a pure shock. I closed my eyes and felt tears running down my face. It was the first time in my life I was in a state of physical and mental paralysis, and I could not move any part of my body or think clearly. I was just floating there, helpless and shamefully incapable of doing anything.
I instinctively opened my eyes again after approximately 20 seconds of a mental rollercoaster in my brain. The shark was gone. I didn’t know where it went, but I quickly jumped on my board and pulled my legs and arms from the water as fast as I could. I was sitting on my board holding my legs under my arms and trying to be absolutely still and look as small and inconspicuous as possible. Unfortunately this did not seem to work and I could see the shark coming back again with a vengeance. Maybe it was my pounding heartbeat vibrating through the board that kept the shark interested in me, but it was clear that the shark was not going to leave me alone, and I knew that the worst was still to come. The shark started taking small bites off the board, and it looked like it was sampling the material with its teeth and snout. It did not like the taste of the board and it started to get closer and closer to me. It was trying to get a taste of me now, but I managed to move away every time its huge mouth was about to rip a chunk off my body. The shark kept trying to bite me for a few petrifying minutes, but finally it gave up and vanished again into the deep.
I did not want to put my arms in the water and paddle back to the shore, so I just decided to lie still for a moment and wait the situation out. A small seagull landed on the tip of my board and it looked very interested in my predicament. It looked like it was thinking: “Hey buddy, you are in big trouble here”. He was right, but this did not make me feel any better. I just felt jealous of the bird, especially of its wings. I wanted to fly away from the shark and back to the safety of the shore. But this was not an option. I would need to face my destiny soon, and I knew that the shark was not done with me yet.
I now started to fear that the shark was maybe planning a surprise attack from underneath. I have seen sharks conducting astonishing forays in South Africa, where they attack seals with an unbelievable force and hurl them high up in the air before ripping the poor creatures apart with their sharp serrated teeth. I was not ready for this fate and decided to get back in the water and swim along the board to safety, while keeping a close eye for a possible stealth attack. If I was going to die, at least I wanted to see my killer coming.
Bad decision. As soon as I was back in the water the shark appeared from the abyss. It was now circling around me, and I knew it would be just a matter of seconds until it would launch its attack. Even a single bite could be fatal and it did not give me much comfort that great whites don’t especially like human flesh. I also realized that there was nothing I could do in this situation. This shark did not care if I had a family and friends, or if I needed to be in an important meeting. This shark did not know that cities exist or that people build houses and go to work. Maybe the shark knows the secrets of the ocean, but it was certain that it would not feel a single drop of pity or compassion for me when it would sink its sharp teeth into my flesh. It was just doing its hardwired job to survive and produce new sharks to this planet. It was simply not designed to be capable of thinking about any other factors that might disturb its mission. It was not going to back off, because I had responsibilities in my life and family and friends who needed my support and companionship. The shark was doing what sharks are intended to be doing, and I respected it for that. At least I knew that there was nothing personal between the shark and me and that there was a logical and straightforward natural reason behind its actions. This made me think that there would be much worse things to die from. Somehow my destiny started to feel pure and clean. What should I say; it started to feel natural.
I also thought about the inaccurate picture that many of us still have about sharks and how people view them as mindless killers and a mere nuisance and source of food. I think this view is way too simplistic and blurs the big picture where sharks play a critical role. Even if some people feel that sharks are unpleasant and don’t bring any value to human race, we should not underestimate the importance of these amazing creatures in the fragile natural cycle. We cannot just remove every unpleasant thing that nature has created and fool ourselves that we can keep the dominoes from falling forever. I believe that sharks are part of something mysterious and amazing that we just cannot yet fully understand. We can kill sharks in seconds with our advanced weapons and drive species to extinction in just a few decades, but I would be very cautious to wipe out something that has taken millions of years to evolve. It just cannot be that there are no serious consequences when we completely remove something from this planet that has been here millions of years before we even arrived. This should be simple logic, but we still somehow manage to let that logic pass our brain.
There are so many things we don’t know about this planet, but yet we are treating it like a commodity and failing to give it the respect it undeniably deserves. If everybody is willing to think about nature only after they have reached the material wealth they are dreaming of, it will be way too late. There will be billions of new people coming to this planet in the near future, and if they all start to care about nature only after they get rich, it will be way too late. And when it is too late, it could well be that no one will be able to be truly wealthy ever again. It could be that there will be no more pure and unspoiled places left where people can go to enjoy their wealth and spend their retirement years happy. There may be no more paradises left to move to from the polluted and overharvested places that made their wealth possible. And, the saddest thing is that the future generations learn to think that polluted and dirty environments are the standard, the way the world is. That will be the only world they will know and they will think that it is normal that we don’t have any coral reefs, wild tigers or rainforests on this planet. That is a very sad scenario, but unfortunately also a very possible one.
It is also distressing and unimaginably ironic and illogical that while we are getting rich, we sometimes destroy the same things we want to enjoy when we finally are wealthy. We want to maybe spend our retirement years on a beach or sail the ocean, but if the ocean and its creatures are dying and the beach is littered with plastic and oil, what is there to enjoy anymore? What is there to spend our hard-earned wealth on? I sometimes watch with horror the shortsighted treatment of this planet and its resources. What have we really set in motion here…
As I was thinking about my life and my small role in the cycle of life, I started to accept my destiny and realized that the fear of the shark unexpectedly left my body. I was maybe losing my mind, but I decided that I am not going to try to escape from the jaws of this enormous animal anymore. Instead, I wanted to call its bluff, if there was one. I started swimming slowly toward the shark, keeping constant eye contact with the beast. I was soon just inches away from the shark’s sharp teeth and could almost touch the 2,000-pound predator. I stared into its pitch black eyes with confidence and without any fear. I touched the shark’s snout and felt its sharp rough skin cutting the skin in my palms. It was official; I was crazy.
The shark seemed to be a bit surprised by my approach and it started to slowly move away from me. I followed it and touched its dorsal fin and let the shark pull me a few yards in the water after I let go. The shark vanished into the deep, and I started to swim back to my board. But, just as I was reaching the board the shark came back again and started to stare at me with its enchanting eyes. I stared back, but this time I was careful not to blink. I was now confident that I would win this staring contest, because I was not afraid of the shark anymore. The staring went on about 30 seconds, until the moment arrived when the shark was getting fed up with me. It swam slowly past me, and I knew it was going to leave this time for good. I could feel its huge tail gently touching my left cheek as the great beast vanished into the abyss.
I climbed back on my board and calmly paddled back to the shore. I sat down on a narrow stretch of a sandy beach and looked at the amazing seascape opening in front of me. A solitary seagull was flying over the Sea Lion Rocks, and I felt again a true connection with nature and its creatures. I was not an observer, but a participant in this game of life. I did not want to distance myself from nature, but be drawn closer to it. It is easy to forget what a wonderful world there is out there when we are living in our cities and driving our cars on busy highways. But, we cannot change the fact that we are part of the game. It is not a game of chess where other players try to take out the pieces of their opponents, hoping to be the last one standing. There are no such opponents in this game, and each piece we take from the table, brings us closer to our own defeat. It may not be too late to figure out the rules of the game, but it looks like the game is starting to turn against us. We are getting closer and closer to the critical point, where turning back may no longer be an option. We need to understand that if we want to stay in the game, we have to see the pieces on the table as partners, rather than something we can exploit until all the pieces are gone.
As I was walking away from the shoreline, I could feel the wind picking up from the north. Dark clouds were forming in the horizon, and I felt like there was something menacing and unexplainable in the approaching weather front. It was time for me to leave Point Lobos. It had given me something that I will never forget, something that will nourish me for the rest of my life. This truly was a bargain of a lifetime.”
-Jack Ulcer-