Without warning, the great white shark violently surfaced behind the boat with jaws wide open. Three men gasped at the sight. One man harpooned a barrel line into its back, but the giant fish easily dragged the container under and disappeared. The men commissioned to hunt it down stood breathless.
Jaws was a 1975 thriller about a 25-foot, man-eating shark that terrorized a New England summer resort town. And yes, it pretty much wrecked ocean swimming for years.
In the very next scene, Quint the professional shark hunter, Brody the local police chief, and Hooper the marine biologist, swapped stories and got drunk below deck as night fell. They blew off steam, believing the danger had passed for the moment. However, we, the audience, knew the terrible shark was lurking. The deep bass music—da-dummm, da-dummm, da-dummm—gave it away.
How can they be so oblivious! Blood rushed to my face. A cold sweat broke out on my neck and shoulders. Come on…get a clue! The pulsating notes grew louder, the pace quickened. Oh no! No, no, NO! And all at once, the shark rammed the hull with tooth-rattling force. The guys didn’t see it coming.
Right then and there, I made an inner vow:Continue reading