Once in the bay itself, she swung in along the sandy beach and spotted three semi-dilapidated houses tucked away in the trees. Two boats were anchored—a small metal skiff with a ten-horsepower motor and sunbaked oars that no one would be using for shark dives, and a twenty-eight- or thirty-foot Radon, anchored deeper in the middle of the bay. Was it big enough to carry a shark cage on its long flat aft section? Maybe.
No one was in sight and the beach was clear of footprints, though with the tide high that wasn’t saying much. She passed close to the Radon and saw nothing out of the ordinary. It was old but looked to be well maintained. There were traces of diesel fuel in the air, as though the boat had been driven recently. She wished she could talk to someone, but she scanned the shacks again and there was no sign of life. Weekday, early afternoon, gloomy weather. It made sense. The setting did resemble something out of a painting, rusted tin roofs under coconut and kamani trees, and the black sand made it even more exotic.
Discouraged and not ready to go home, she beelined it back out to the buoy area. Today the current line was less obvious, so she had to rely on her landmarks to find the submerged float. It took a bit of back-and-forth, but she finally found it. She turned off the engine and floated for a while as a few random shafts of light beamed down from the heavens. Dark and light, sea and sky doing their dance. In theory if someone had been chumming, the sound of a boat engine should draw sharks since they’d be habituated.
She waited, looking down into the depths, hoping for a visitor or two. The water was remarkably clear and dusted with plankton and the occasional jellyfish. In the distance a whale slapped its tail on the water, making loud smacking sounds that Minnow was surprised she could hear. It was too much to be out here and not in the water, so before she knew it, she was grabbing the bowline and her mask and fins and slipping beneath the surface. Cool but not cold. Silky. She did a one-eighty to check her surroundings and then tied off to the buoy.
There was something about floating in the open sea that calmed her. A tiny speck of life in a vast underworld. She dove down a few times, seeing how far she could follow the line. Woody estimated it was probably a few hundred feet to the bottom, maybe more, so she was barely making a dent. On her third dive down, she thought she heard something. She hung in place for a few moments, listening. The sound of water swirling and an overwhelming feeling that she was not alone. She slowly spiraled up for air, took several deep breaths, then dove down again.
The boat offered only a small measure of safety, but her gut told her she was in no danger. Whatever was coming was coming leisurely. When the shape appeared far below her, she relaxed. It was a baby whale. The animal was so far below, it was merely a shadow before disappearing into the blue. Minnow hung on to the edge of the boat, watching and waiting and hoping for more. A few minutes later, it came back into her vision, probably thirty feet below her.
Not a baby whale.
A Sister.
It had to be.
The world went quiet, save for the insistent thrum of her heart. There was something familiar in the movements of this shark. This graceful and ragged-toothed beauty. This behemoth. As white sharks often did, the animal swam loops beneath her, coolly observing. Minnow observed back as the shark slowly rose higher and higher. Asif orchestrated by a higher power, sunlight pierced the water around them, illuminating a network of gashes and scars across its flank.
Closer and closer it swam, languidly, as though it had all day to suss her out. No tag was visible. This one had eluded all the curious scientists out there. Then Minnow’s eyes darted to the fin, where she saw four deep slices. Impossible, and yet there they were, exactly as she’d remembered them.
Luna.
Hershark.
Now at least eight feet wide and taller than she was, the Sister of all Sisters.
Minnow forgot about breathing until her lungs let her know it was time. She surfaced again, never once taking her eye off this smoothly circling shark. The one who started it all.
“My friend,” she said, going back under and speaking into her snorkel what would have been gibberish to anyone around.
On the next go-around, Luna came right for her. Minnow didn’t flinch. She knew enough about white shark body language to tell that this interaction was not an attack. Had Luna wanted to attack her, she would be dead already. They passed within feet of each other and that dark and intelligent eye locked on with hers. She was close enough to touch, and Minnow held out her hand, wanting so badly to feel her, but she pulled back. Touching animals in the wild was frowned upon in her circles, and she didn’t want to do anything to ruin the moment.
A moment she would relive again and again for the rest of her life. It felt like meeting a long-lost relative or finding a brother you never knew you had. Not only was Luna a Sister, but she felt like Minnow’s sister. Flesh and blood. Fin and tail.
This time when the shark swam away, she angled down and dropped into the depths. Minnow waited for what felt like hours, hoping for another round, but Luna was gone.
“Go away from here and don’t come back. It’s not safe,” she said, wishing her words would carry through the water and translate into shark.
Two smaller sharks showed up a few minutes later. They moved in fast and furious, just as Minnow was climbing into the boat. She sat on the cooler in a daze, watching their fins zigzag around her. Galapagos sharks. Pups compared to Luna.
As much as she hated to think about it, the chances of another twenty-foot white shark in the area were almost nil. Which meant that Luna was responsible for the bites.
It’s Luna they want in the hunt.
All other sharks would be collateral damage.
There was a reason chumming was illegal within three miles of shore. It attracted large predators. Groomed them, even. Whoever these fuckers were, they had blood on their hands.
Minnow closed her eyes and balled her fists, lying back on the cooler and trying to calm the surge of adrenaline flooding into her body. Here she was, witness to sharks appearing at the sound of an engine, and yet there was no cage, no boat, no one red-handed. The hunt would still go on in the morning.
“Get out of here, all of you!” she called out. “Swim away and stay away from all boats, do you hear me?”
Only water sounds and a Hawaiian Airlines jet approaching from Kawaihae. Planes were usually farther out to sea, but this one was hugging the coastline. Must have been the shift in wind direction.
“Do you hear me?” she screamed. “You have to listen. You have to go. Now!”
Her voice cracked. Still wet from her swim, a chill ran through her. Something about the cold brought her back to Catalina.
