Round 2: during most of my high school years I lived on Guam. I started diving with friends, one thing led to another and pretty soon we were commercial spear fishing. Few of the locals ventured into the ocean, but they loved to eat fish. 50 cents/pound, head, guts and scales. Early on we used a one man inflatable raft to hold the fish, and when full clipped stringers in the sides. Last guy to spear a fish towed the raft. So there I was, towing a loaded raft when Jaws showed up. Odd part of that is it bypassed the raft and headed for me. When I first saw it the distance was about 20’.
I don’t recall what kind it was but it was between 10-12’ long. I aimed the gun and fired, hitting it square on the point of its nose. By chance I’d not given thought to distance so it happened that the cord attached ran its length at the point where a little bit of stretch allowed the spear point to poke ol’ toothy in the snout but not penetrate. I dunno if I made his eyes water but the reaction was “Holy chitt! I’m outta here!” Turned tail and ran. None of my buddies saw this despite visibility in the range of 150-200’.
It would not be the last shark encounter, but we never got bit...
