there were sharks every day, mainly makos and bluesharks, but also oceanic whitetips, and once a tiger sharkstraight from the blackest of nightmares. dawn and dusk weretheir favourite times. they never seriously troubled us. onoccasion one knocked the hull of the lifeboat with its tail. idon't think it was accidental (other marine life did it too, turtlesand even dorados). i believe it was part of a shark's way ofdetermining the nature of the lifeboat. a good whack on theoffender's nose with a hatchet sent it vanishing post-haste intothe deep. the main nuisance of sharks was that they madebeing in the water risky, like trespassing on a property wherethere's a sign saying beware of dog. otherwise, i grew quitefond of sharks. they were like curmudgeonly old friends whowould never admit that they liked me yet came round to seeme all the time. the blue sharks were smaller, usually no morethan four or five feet long, and the most attractive, sleek andslender, with small mouths and discreet gill slits. their backswere a rich ultramarine and their stomachs snow white, coloursthat vanished to grey or black when they were at any depth,but which close to the surface sparkled with surprisingbrilliance. the makos were larger and had mouths burstingwith frightening teeth, but they too were nicely coloured, anindigo blue that shimmered beautifully in the sun. the oceanicwhitetips were often shorter than the makos – some of whichstretched to twelve feet – but they were much stockier andhad enormous dorsal fins that they sailed high above thesurface of the water, like a war banner, a rapidly moving sightthat was always nerve-racking to behold. besides, they were adull colour, a sort of greyish brown, and the mottled white tipsof their fins held no special attraction.

i caught a number of small sharks, blue sharks for the mostpart, but some makos too. each time it was just after sunset,in the dying light of the day, and i caught them with my barehands as they came close to the lifeboat.

the first one was my largest, a mako over four feet long. ithad come and gone near the bow several times. as it waspassing by yet again, i impulsively dropped my hand into thewater and grabbed it just ahead of the tail, where its bodywas thinnest. its harsh skin afforded such a marvellously goodgrip that without thinking about what i was doing, i pulled. asi pulled, it jumped, giving my arm a terrific shake. to myhorror and delight the thing vaulted in the air in an explosionof water and spray. for the merest fraction of a second ididn't know what to do next. the thing was smaller than i –but wasn't i being a foolhardy goliath here? shouldn't i let go?

i turned and swung, and falling on the tarpaulin, i threw themako towards the stern. the fish fell from the sky into richardparker's territory. it landed with a crash and started thwackingabout with such thunder that i was afraid it would demolishthe boat. richard parker was startled. he attacked immediately.

an epic battle began. of interest to zoologists i can reportthe following: a tiger will not at first attack a shark out ofwater with its jaws but will rather strike at it with its forepaws.

richard parker started clubbing the shark. i shuddered atevery blow. they were simply terrible. just one delivered to ahuman would break every bone, would turn any piece offurniture into splinters, would reduce an entire house into a pileof rubble. that the mako was not enjoying the treatment wasevident from the way it was twisting and turning and beatingits tail and reaching with its mouth.

perhaps it was because richard parker was not familiar withsharks, had never encountered a predatory fish – whatever thecase, it happened: an accident, one of those few times when iwas reminded that richard parker was not perfect, that despitehis honed instincts he too could bumble. he put his left pawinto the mako's mouth. the mako closed its jaws. immediatelyrichard parker reared onto his back legs. the shark wasjerked up, but it wouldn't let go. richard parker fell backdown, opened his mouth wide and full-out roared. i felt a blastof hot air against my body. the air visibly shook, like the heatcoming off a road on a hot day. i can well imagine thatsomewhere far off, 150 miles away, a ship's watch looked up,startled, and later reported the oddest thing, that he thought heheard a cat's meow coming from three o'clock. days later thatroar was still ringing in my guts. but a shark is deaf,conventionally speaking. so while i, who wouldn't think ofpinching a tiger's paw, let alone of trying to swallow one,received a volcanic roar full in the face and quaked andtrembled and turned liquid with fear and collapsed, the sharkperceived only a dull vibration.

richard parker turned and started clawing the shark's headwith his free front paw and biting it with his jaws, while hisrear legs began tearing at its stomach and back. the sharkheld on to his paw, its only line of defence and attack, andthrashed its tail. tiger and shark twisted and tumbled about.

with great effort i managed to gain enough control of mybody to get onto the raft and release it. the lifeboat driftedaway. i saw flashes of orange and deep blue, of fur and skin,as the lifeboat rocked from side to side. richard parker'ssnarling was simply terrifying.

at last the boat stopped moving. after several minutesrichard parker sat up, licking his left paw.

in the following days he spent much time tending his fourpaws. a shark's skin is covered with minute tubercles thatmake it as rough as sandpaper. he had no doubt cut himselfwhile repeatedly raking the shark. his left paw was injured, butthe damage did not seem permanent; no toes or claws weremissing. as for the mako, except for the tips of the tail andthe mouth area, incongruously untouched, it was a half-eaten,butchered mess. chunks of reddish grey flesh and clumps ofinternal organs were strewn about.

i managed to gaff some of the shark's remains, but to mydisappointment the vertebrae of sharks do not hold fluid. atleast the flesh was tasty and unfishy, and the crunchiness ofcartilage was a welcome respite from so much soft food.

subsequently i went for smaller sharks, pups really, and ikilled them myself. i found that stabbing them through the eyeswith the knife was a faster, less tiresome way of killing themthan hacking at the tops of their heads with the hatchet.