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My husband, Johnny, and I love fishing, especially in saltwater. We frequently travel to Amelia Island, Florida for vacations that include some angling from the pier or in the surf. A couple of years ago, we decided to take a friend's 14' bass boat to do some trolling for reds and trout in a tidal creek just off the island.

We made the short drive early one morning to Sawpit Creek and launched the boat. We trolled for a while, winding through tall sawgrass, getting closer and closer to the ocean. We had caught a couple of trout but were pretty disappointed with our meager catch.

We came upon a wide place in the creek, almost like a pond. We decided to anchor there for a while and try our luck with some cut bait, thinking we might catch some whiting or even a very small shark. Like most men, he thought "the bigger, the better." He placed a huge square of mullet on a big hook and cast it into the center of the "pond." I tried to tell him that the piece of bait was too big and that he was going to attract a big ray or something that we didn't want to deal with, but he just smiled and continued fishing.

In just a few minutes, something almost snatched his rod out of the boat. Whatever it was, it didn't put up much of a fight, but we could tell it was something big. It would make a slow run away from the boat, then change direction and head straight for us. Then it would change direction again. Johnny was a good fisherman, and since we were fishing among oyster beds and rocks, we were using pretty heavy tackle and steel leaders.

After the fish gave up, Johnny was able to get it to the boat. It was a shark - about 4 1/2 feet long. Now I realize that in comparison with Jaws, this doesn't sound very big, but when compared to a 14' bass boat, it's huge! I got out the knife to cut the line, but Johnny stopped me. He insisted on landing his catch to take home for shark steaks. I tried to make him see reason, to explain that the fish was way too big for the boat, to beg him not to expose us to a shark bite - all in vain. With the help of a rope, he actually pulled the fish up into the boat.

Now that tired fish that had no desire to do any fighting when hooked suddenly came to life. He did not want any part of us, the hook in his jaw, or the boat. He thrashed around that vessel as if he were having some sort of seizure, knocking stuff about as he did so. Soda cans, sandwiches, a hat, and fishing gear went flying out of the boat and into the water. He got tangled in the big dip

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