Since the modified shark was considered anew animal drug, the FDA CVM reviewed the situation, and the USFWS oversaw Lacey Act compliance. Capturing and transporting the shark wouldn’t be classified as illegal trafficking, in their view.
The USCG issued a Certificate of Compliance for the transport vessel.
It was a miracle that anything ever got done once the government got involved. But within 36 hours, we had all the necessary approvals. It took a lot of phone calls and favors and was enough to make your head spin, but we got it accomplished.
BMFS Marine was kind enough to donate the use of two heavy transport vessels, including a 72,000 DWT semisubmersible with a length overall of 218 meters. The Mighty Marlin was massive and had a submerged draft of 26 meters. It was like a giant flatbed truck for the sea.
The Maxlift 2 was a 231-meter lift boat with a towering crane capable of hoisting 4,000 tons. More than overkill for the massive shark. With a haze-gray hull, an arctic white superstructure, a helipad, and a yellow monster of a crane that towered like a sky scraper, the Maxlift 2 was an impressive sight.
The behemoths dwarfed our 27-foot HDPE Raptor 2.
Tango One circled overhead, the rotors thumping the hair.
This whole adventure was insane.
Isabella had tracked the leviathan, and we ran a chum line of blood and fish guts. We left a crimson slurry in the teal water as we idled forward. With a quarter of beef on a tow line amidships, we had a tasty morsel for the shark.
Jay had rigged up several pole spears with his special cocktail of shark dreams. He knew better than to tag along in the Raptor 2. Nobody in their right mind would be aboard this boat. I couldn’t talk Ariel out of it. She wanted to be in the thick of it. Of course, she insisted her cameraman, Nick, tag along to capture video for her social media presence.
Defender-class patrol boats and Coast Guard cutters trailed in the distance.
News helicopters and MH60 Jayhawks circled overhead.
The briny air swirled, mixing with the putrid stench of fish guts. The sun beamed bright, sparkling the water. It was as good a day as any to go head-to-head with a massive hybrid shark. Besides, we were in the boat. I planned on staying on the boat. What could go wrong?
An FWC dive team was ready to deploy with the sling once we had sedated the shark—once it was no longer a threat. Or, at least, that was the plan.
The bloody slop worked. Before long, a massive dorsal fin surfaced, cutting through the teal swells like a razor.
I'm not going to lie, my heartbeat elevated. Even standing on the deck of the boat in relative safety, it was enough to make the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand tall.
The shark raced toward the Raptor at an incredible speed, then dove deep. It launched up from below like a Trident missile. Its snout pierced the water, its jaws wide, its massive teeth ready to devour anything and everything in its path.
It chomped down on the quarter of beef and ripped it away like it was nothing.
I stabbed the harpoon at it, but the shark crashed back into the water, unscathed.
That's okay. We had brought plenty of beef with us. Jack tied up another morsel, then tossed it over the side of the boat.
My heart pounded my chest, my nerves alive.
“Did you get that?” Ariel said to her cameraman.
He nodded with round eyes.
We lost sight of the shark. Surely it wouldn't be satisfied with just an appetizer. We kept idling forward, and Jack kept tossing fish guts and blood into the water.
I stood ready with the harpoon.
A nerve-racking few moments went by. I kept my head on a swivel.
There was an eerie stillness for a moment.
The monster launched up from the depths and slammed into the Raptor. I don't know if the toothy bastard thought it was a seal or if it was just being an asshole.
The impact launched the boat into the air, and we became airborne. The boat capsized, and the four of us splashed into the water.
Not exactly the place I wanted to be.
