Gordon Grice's Blog, page 80

Great White Shark Breaks Surfboard

Humboldt County surfer escapes shark attack | PressDemocrat.com:

"Benjie Rose was sitting on his board 40 yards off of Samoa Beach at a spot called Power Poles on Sunday when a white shark came up under him, hitting his board and knocking him into the air, according to his account for the Shark Attack Research Committee in Van Nuys.


His board badly damaged and with a bloody nose, Rose managed to paddle into a wave and rode it onto the shore, where it broke in half and he discovered teeth marks.


'We aren't fatty enough, not high energy enough to be worth eating,' Klimley said."

Tasmanian Devils Catch Cancer

Photo Credit: PanBK/Creative Commons
The Tasmanian devil is a marsupial carnivore, best known to most Westerners through the Warner Brothers cartoons. It has acquired a vicious reputation because of its array of screams and shouts, its voracity (it is capable of gulping down 40% of its own weight in half an hour, and often does so as part of a group activity, in a sort of miniature shark feeding frenzy), its indiscriminate diet (small mammals, perhaps including animals as large as sheep; birds, reptiles, insects; carrion; other Tasmanian devils), and its powerful bite (nine times as powerful as a dog's, and capable of shearing through the bones of cattle; it routinely eats every scrap of an animal, not just the meaty part favored by bipedal predators). Until recently, however, the most compelling reason to fear the devil was its odor, said by some to be the most offensive smell produced by any animal. Supposedly it's more nauseous than the scent of the skunk, and a powerful deterrent.
What's happened recently: A contagious cancer has devastated devil populations. The cancer causes tumors on the face and in the mouth. The species, already in trouble, is now on the brink of extinction. More from Scientific American:

Unlike human and most other known mammalian cancers, Devil Facial Tumor Disease (DFTD) spreads from one individual to another individual through physical contact—from a bite or even a casual touch. 'Just imagine a human cancer that spread through a handshake,' said study co-author Stephan Schuster.

(The full article tells what scientists are doing about the problem: Observations: Sequencing of Tasmanian Devil Genome Suggests New Attack on Contagious Cancer, Clues for Conservation)

The particular habits of devils—like biting each other during sexual intercourse—helps spread the disease.
This cancer is unlikely to ever affect humans. On the other hand—and this is the scary part—there's nothing to keep us from evolving our own contagious cancers.

And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.
--"The Mask of the Red Death"
   Edgar Allan Poe

Rider Saves Boy from Grizzly

Tremendous story of a wildlife encounter on a trail ride:


Gutsy wrangler, huge horse save boy from charging grizzly - Spokesman.com - Sept. 18, 2011:

""The last thing he saw over his shoulder as his horse ran away was the grizzly chasing his boy," Bolster said.


With the bear on Scout's heels, Tonk's instinct was to flee with the group of horses. But Tonk responded to Bolster's heels in his ribs as she spun the big fella around. They wheeled out of a 360 and bolted into the trees to wedge between the predator and the prey."

Wounded Grizzly Kills Hunter

Jcfw/Creative Commons
Wounded grizzly kills hunter in remote Montana - Forbes.com:

"Stevenson's hunting partner, 21-year-old Ty Bell, shot and wounded a young male grizzly, then the two hunters tracked the animal to an area of heavy cover.

Faulkner says at that point, the wounded bear attacked and fatally injured Stevenson. Bell killed the animal with several shots."

Grice on Bears

The latest issue of Men's Journal (October 2011) features my article about this summer's slew of bear attacks. Check it out. 

Black Bear vs. Wisconsin Hunter

A sketchy news item about a defensive bear attack.
Bear attacks hunter in Lincoln County - WSAU News/Talk 550AM 99.9FM:

"Christopher Hoffman was taking part in a bear hunt. He shot the animal that attacked him. The injured bear then attacked Hoffman before running off into the woods. The wounded animal was eventually tracked and killed by another member of the hunting party."

Tree Frog on Window

D'Arcy's camera captured this tree frog lit by porchlight. It seems to be standing on air, but it's actually on the other side of D'Arcy's window.

Autumnal

Three nights ago there was a harvest moon. Two nights ago, belated, I finally went out to look at the moon with my kids. Full and bright, to be sure, and its seas were visible as a reptile squirming in its egg. But it was no brighter than many other full moons. Nonetheless, the evening was important, because after a day of 86 we opened the windows to the cool, and had to think what that sound was: dead leaves running before the wind, clattering down the pavement. I'm calling it the first night of autumn, no matter how the calendar may construe things.


Last year's autumn post

Related Post: Moon

Photo by Parker Grice

Royal Beasts Return to the Tower of London

Of peculiar historical interest:

A Menagerie of strange Royal Beasts returns for Tower of London installation and exhibition | Culture24:

"There were many attacks on humans. In 1696 a lady living with the keeper of the lions, Mary Jenkinson, stroked the largest one and died after losing her arm whilst being mauled."

Cage-Diving with a Great White Shark

by guest writer Carly Samuelson
A fear of the unfamiliar, an adrenaline addiction, a curious case of unpredictability. I feel my body rise and fall atop the salty swells beneath me, my tongue curling around a lollipop in the hopes of curing a sea sickness bouncing about my core. I am not afraid, I'm sick. And I'm in good company. I cringe through a young woman's heaving to my right and wonder whether she's considered her chances of toppling into the territory of one of the most feared species on earth. Probably not because it's too fucking cold to think straight. "We're not feeding them, we're playing with them." A crew member delights in our blank stares as he tosses the chum into the sea. I close my eyes as the metal cage crashes into the Atlantic. And like divine intervention, they appear.
The crew tell us to get ready. I crunch my candy violently as I slip into a black wetsuit. I sing along to the Jaws theme song eating away at my consciousness. I want to go into the cage first. It is my egotistical way of avoiding an intense feeling of fear. I pull goggles over my frozen expression and slide down the side of the boat into the water. My lungs deflate as the biting tundra drapes over me. I shudder while my legs float upwards between the bars. They stop directly below a set of teeth marks in the padding where I place my hands. My toes wiggle like little guppies swirling around in the waves. Classic horror movie scene, pan to a 15 foot great white shark swimming ferociously nearby. My mind pulses with adrenaline, the most beautiful kind. Something like my first roller coaster ride, my first time sky diving and my first crush all intricately intertwined into some decadent piece of real living.
"Down in front! Down in front!" my thoughts shatter into a thousand pieces as I grip the metal in a fight with buoyancy until I can secure myself against the boat beneath the water. My heart beats slow for a moment. He is a curious case of unpredictability. Then out of the darkness he swims at me, veering to my right just before kissing the cage. And we thought we were playing with him. Seconds later, the epicenter of all things terrifying, the thrill becomes too intense to meditate on fear. I burst upwards, nearly drowning in laughter. My teeth chatter like a wind-up toy, animated and alive. I push myself back under, my eyes darting throughout the darkness until I spot him. This time he is modest, gliding effortlessly through the water in a blissful dance,  so ironic and so fascinating. He follows the crimson dripping from the chum, only snapping his massive jaw at the last possible moment as if not to scare us. His grey skin sparkles as it reflects rays of sunlight piercing the water. It reminds me of old leather with nicks and fading color. And the skin houses years and years of experience, in just the same way that leather does. He never looks at me; I don't think he has any inclination to make friendly, yet he doesn't appear the least bit bothered by our presence. He lets us watch and lets us scream,  likely laughing at our disbelief.
I can feel the water move through me as I force my body into a state of stillness. With every sweep of the shark, I feel a rush of energy. I begin to wonder why it is that humans conspire against these creatures. As people we have the ability to murder, but that certainly doesn't mean we want to do it. Sharks have the ability to decapitate surfers, but that doesn't mean they all have a desire to do it. I read an article prior to diving about the fact that most shark attacks aren't even attacks. Sharks are curious and intelligent; they only want to know who's swimming in their territory, so they "taste" them. Unfortunately even a small bite mark in human flesh can cause horrible bleeding, leaving sharks with a less than perfect reputation. I snap back to reality when the sharp water slaps me across the face. It's refreshing and invigorating. I plunge beneath once more. This time it's so cold that my body has little purpose while underneath the surface, and my mind becomes further engaged in my surroundings.
I relax, time slows. The icy water becomes an accumulation of my emotions. He is no longer unfamiliar to me.

Photo by Craig, who shot this on his own shark-diving adventure.




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