Shark Dream

Early this morning, I had my very first shark attack dream.  I've been diving since 1978, and I've had plenty of shark dreams, dreams in which I watch sharks swim from shore, dreams in which I seem to swim with sharks deep underwater, dreams menacing and dreams awe-inspiring, but dreams getting attacked . . . first time.  In the dream, I was out on a kayak with a friend, and we were going to free dive.  Somewhere up north--Sonoma or Mendocino coast.  We anchored our boats to kelp, and we got ready to enter the water, planning to drop down into the kelp forest.  For some reason in the dream--for I would never dive in this manner--I dropped my fins and mask & snorkel overboard, and then I swam down to the equipment in the dreamily-overly-clear water.  As I swam down, I could see some sort of body mass and some sort of movement in the near distance, but without my mask, I could not see clearly enough to make out details.  I certainly felt nervous.  At the bottom, I donned my mask and cleared it a bit, using only a little of the air in my lungs, and pulled on both fins as I looked about, spinning slowly to cover the 360 degrees.  There, swimming away, was a large shark.  As I slowly moved upward, trying to kick slowly, easily, calmly, sending out the vibes of functional-fish, not of awkward-fearful-prey, I could see the shark turn and circle and then rush for me.  Of course, I woke just before that open mouth closed on my body . . . .

And, of course, I had to get up, walk around, and drink some water before I could shake loose of that final moment.