Since he went on his eighth birthday to see the movie Jaws at the Broadway Double Cinema with his dad, Bob has been terrified of sharks. Me? I believe if you leave animals in the wild alone, they leave you alone. But Bob is different. 

---

“I dunno,” I said. “That doesn’t sound like a thing.”

“It’s true! Mark verified it,” Bob said, readjusting his seat and tray for the fifteenth time.

“Mark is a plumber, not a marine biologist.”

“But he has gone to Aruba a gazillion times,” Bob insisted

Bob once watched an entire National Geographic documentary narrated by Richard Dreyfuss on how to defend yourself in the event of a shark attack. But instead of gaining confidence, Bob believed shark attacks were imminent anywhere and anytime, so it blew my mind when he booked us the Aruba trip. 

Antsy the entire plane ride and after almost six hours of traveling, we finally settled into our hotel room and unpacked. 

“The water is so blue!” Bob exclaimed as he stepped out onto the balcony.

 “Let’s go for a swim,” I said. 

“Ah, well, ah, I thought we could check out the resort first and then head to the grocery store for snacks and beer. Let’s just hang at the pool for now.” 

“Sure.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, but you promised to go in the ocean. You aren’t backing out, are you?”

“I won’t! You heard the concierge. She agreed that there are no sharks on this side of the island.”

Bob and I floated in the pool for a bit and then swam up to the pool bar for drinks, talking and laughing with the other guests around us. After a few Balashi beers, I overheard Bob telling the bartender what he knew about the government feeding raw meat to sharks on the other side of the island in an effort to keep the sharks away from the hotel beaches. The bartender nodded politely, but nudged the other bartender as if to say, get a load of this guy.

Later, on our way to the grocery store, Bob reiterated this conversation with the taxi driver, looking for confirmation. The driver’s eyes danced in the rearview mirror as he answered, “Sure thing, man.”   

When we got back to the hotel, Bob headed straight to the lobby to book us a water excursion. I had serious doubts, but Bob seemed excited when we discussed all of the possibilities. He returned to the room an hour later with a flushed face and two tickets in his hand. 

“Babe, we are going on the ‘Jolly Pirates, Sun, Snorkel and Sail Cruise’ tomorrow,” Bob said.

We woke up early the next day, ate breakfast, and headed down to the beach. I swam in the ocean, and Bob read. I swam some more, and Bob drank. I swam again, and Bob napped.

“Bob, are you sure about this snorkel cruise?”

“Of course. I can’t wait!”

“But are you really going to snorkel and swim in the ocean?”

“Yes! I promise. Plus, the activities’ director said the ship doesn’t anchor too far from the shoreline and he confirmed the government feeds sharks on the other side of the island.”

“For chrissakes Bob.”

“I wanted to triple-check! I promise, I am good.”

I nodded but remained skeptical of Bob ever putting a foot into the ocean.

We boarded the pirate ship at 2 PM and set sail for the first destination. When we arrived, Bob geared up for snorkeling and approached the ladder. He stared down from the top for several minutes but eventually jumped in. Bob floated around briefly, then pushed down his mask, and swam away. Surprising me, Bob snorkeled in all three spots and really enjoyed himself. We had a fantastic day!

After our excursion, Bob even swam with me in the ocean at our hotel beach. We spotted a few people relaxing on comfy-looking long blue floats and thought it looked fun. Pointing at the floats, Bob said, “Hey babe, let’s splurge and get a couple of those?” 

“I’d love that,” I said and smiled up at my husband. He was like a new man. 

Bob grabbed my hand and we walked to the shack with our money. As the man handed us our floats, Bob spoke and he pointed out at the water, “You know, I almost never go in the ocean. I am terrified of sharks. Thank God there are no sharks out there.” 

“What do you mean?” the man asked.

“You know, because they feed the sharks on the other side of the island so no sharks ever come over here.” 

The man stared at Bob, unsure of what to say. 

“There are no sharks out there, right?” Bob asked. 

“It’s the ocean, man!” the man said and laughed.  

Bob and I walked silently to our beach chairs, dragging the floats behind us. Finally, a pale-faced Bob plopped down on his beach chair and looked up at me.

“Babe, there are sharks out there.”

“It’s the ocean, Bob.”

“But, why didn’t you say anything.”

“I tried, but you wanted to believe Mark and you kept confirming his crazy story with everyone on the island.” 

“Oh, man,” he said quietly, staring at his float.

“Yup,” I said.

Suddenly, Bob stood up and said, “Let’s go!”

I followed close behind him as we dragged our blue floats out into the ocean and floated around, neither speaking for several minutes. Then Bob said, “Thank God I know how to defend us in the event of a shark attack.”