If you've read Top Producer, you know I'm fascinated by sharks. These predators are big and powerful. They move like the rest of the sea should drop everything and genuflect.
This summer I had the good fortune to fish with Eric Swanson, who is both a friend and an incredible boat captain. We were chasing "monsters," tuna to be specific. And the day proved to be one I'll never forget.
"Like fighting a rhino," Eric warned early that morning.
Even before we threw in our lines, his words reminded me of that scene from Jaws: "You're gonna need a bigger boat."
Eric was right. We were using short, stubby poles, thick through the middle. When the fish struck, they bent our rods in half and tugged like there was no tomorrow. The fish pulling us in or us pulling them out—I would have given you even odds the first time one struck.
I don't think a single tuna hit our lines that day. It's hard to know, because the bait techniques that attract tuna also attract sharks.
No matter. We hooked four sharks. We guessed them to be about 300+ pounds each. The next day, I took Advil just to recuperate from the fights.
The smallest shark was the one I remember most. Near the surface, wrapped in the line, the shark stopped fighting for a moment. We saw it looking at us in the boat, studying the situation, appraising how to get away or perhaps how to get us. Its dorsal fin looked like a black razor blade.
I had never gone eye to eye with a shark before, and the experience was nothing short of terrifying. The creature was cunning.
My advice. If you need to see a shark, stick to the aquariums. Here's a shot of one breaking the surface.
The New York Times describes my novels as “money porn,” “a red-hot franchise,” and “glittery thrillers about fiscal malfeasance.” Through fiction I explore the dark side of money and the motivations of those who have it, want more, and will steamroll anybody who gets in their way.