I was a sophomore in high school when Jaws came out. It was awesome. Everybody saw it.
My brother, our friends and I were totally into water skiing in high school. My brother and I owned our own boat. We would ski every weekend once the weather warmed up enough. In fact, my junior year, we skied at least once in every month through the entire year. We skied out in the Puget Sound, in Filucy Bay.
Jaws came out in the spring. It was the first nice weekend in early May and we were at 'The Point,' as we called it. It is the south tip of the mouth of Fulicy Bay. It is a great place to water ski from because the beach has no barnacles and is steep... you can pull right up to the beach with your motor still down and running.
Everybody who was there that day was a good skier. We were all slalom skiers and everyone could step start. Step starting is when you stand in about knee deep water and hold your ski out of the water with a couple coils of ski rope in one hand, while you hold the handle of the ski rope in the other. The boat trolls away from you and when the rope gets pretty taut, except for the few coils, you say, "Hit it!" and the driver guns it and you simply step onto your ski without getting wet at all.
We were all very aggressive skiers. We would push the limits of our skiing abilities. The goal was always to cut as sharp and hard as you could each time. You wanted to skip your shoulder on the water and not falling. You wanted to throw up as big of a spray as you could. Therefore, we all fell a lot... sometimes the wipeouts were very impressive.
Not this day. No one was falling or even getting close to falling. Everyone was skiing very conservatively. Everyone was afraid of Jaws and no one was saying anything about it. It was really bugging me. I was the youngest, everyone else was either a junior or senior. At the end of each person's turn, they would ski right up to the beach and run out of their ski. The only thing getting wet were people's feet and ankles. I was the last to go. I decided that it was up to me to show everyone else that there was no reason to be afraid of Jaws. I was going to ski hard and fall and not get eaten by Jaws... that would show them... so I thought.
So I put on my farmer John style wet suit and then my ski vest and gloves. I adjusted my ski binding tight and jammed my left foot in. I waded out into knee deep water as my brother, the driver, started trolling away and nodded 'Hit it' as the rope grew taut. Within seconds, I was gliding across the top of the water at about 36 mph. I loved water skiing. I loved pushing myself to and past the limits of my ability.
With intense effort, I started cutting back and forth across the wake. I was getting lower and lower with each cut. I was determined to not let some stupid movie ruin my summer of water skiing. I was in the zone... then WIPE OUT! I caught the tip of my ski as I flew to the other side of the wake after a cut.
I went skipping across the top of the water for a bit before I sunk in. It was one of those impressive wipe outs. Suddenly, I was overcome by an intense dread of Jaws. I was in salt water. I had just made a big commotion by falling and I knew sharks were attracted to motion. My ski had flown off in the crash and now I was panicking because I had nothing to protect myself with. I fearfully scanned the surface of the water looking for my ski. To my horror, I spotted it upside down with the fin sticking out of the water, looking like a shark fin. It was about 20 ft away and I had to swim for it... but swimming meant more commotion. I paused for a bit, then realized that I needed to go get my ski. So I swam as fast as I could to it, grabbed it and slipped it back on my left foot.
Now I felt so much better. My brother was trolling away from me and I was about halfway between the boat and the handle. I've skied since I was 5 years old and fallen hundreds of times. I've never had anything touch me in the water... until that day!
Suddenly, something brushed against the bottom of my right foot! I freaked! All's I could hear in my head was the sound of that lady in Jaws getting thrashed around and screaming and gurgling. I pulled and pulled at the ski rope and got ahold of the handle. There was a pile of rope right in front of me. I screamed, "HIT IT! HIT IT! HIT IT!" as I frantically flailed with my arms. My brother looked back and saw me panicking and with a questioning look on his face, he HIT IT.
The rope was zipping away from me and as it got close to the end, I threw my arms back over my head and arched my belly skyward and YANK... I was pulled violently out of the water... good bye Jaws. But my sense of relief was short lived as I kept going forward and right over the front of my ski, face first into the water. I refused to let go. I rolled over onto my back. I still was going to live... surely my brother will take me back to shore. Surely he saw my panic and would do the right thing... NOT!
Soon I was bouncing around and rolling over and over from belly to back as he whipped me at full speed over waves. He was thrashing me around like an inner tube ride... but I was the inner tube. Finally, I let go. I couldn't hold on any longer. I was exhausted and totally afraid. He had taken me way out in the middle of the bay where the sharks would hang out. He was doing donuts around me at full speed. I was so mad at him but I was even more afraid of Jaws. I was expecting dismemberment at any moment from Jaws and there was nothing I could do about it.
Then something inside me snapped. I couldn't stand the suspense any longer. I started flailing at the surface to attract Jaws and I stuck my face under water and yelled, "BITE ME! BITE ME!" All the while my brother was still doing high speed donuts around me circling the spot in the water where I was... just in case Jaws needed any help. I kept flailing and screaming into the water trying to get eaten by Jaws. My brother finally came trolling up to me. I yelled at him in full anger and hysteria and explained that something had brushed the bottom of my foot and that was why I had freaked out.
Sudden my brother and the other 2 guys in the boat sprang to my rescue and tried to pull me out of the water. I harshly yelled at them, "LEAVE ME ALONE!" Then to their amazement I continued to try to get eaten by Jaws by flailing and screaming under water. They just stood there in shock as they watched me unsuccessfully try to get eaten.
Finally, I was exhausted. I couldn't thrash anymore. I wasn't getting eaten. I had tried my best to get eaten and hadn't. I HAD NO FEAR OF JAWS. I asked my brother and our friends to pull me out. The quickly did. I didn't realize what I had done at the time. I had totally humiliated them. You see I was the little brother... and the little brother had just tried his best to get eaten by Jaws.
From then on, everyone skied hard, fell and didn't get eaten by Jaws. Our summer was full of glorious days of water skiing.
I always tell my kids and students to face their fears.
Fear knocks on the door of faith. Courage opens the door and sees nothing.
Day
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