Shark Dive!

March 26, 2026May 4, 2026 ~ Rick ~ Leave a comment

Authors note ~ One of my recent posts to this blog was an earlier penned short story titled The Encounter. I had found the writing tucked away in my filing cabinet. There was another such offering, but it wasn’t as well written to simply transcribe. The following is the 2026 cleaned and tweaked version…..

Shark Dive

My second wife, girlfriend at the time of this story, signed up to receive a vacation prize to Florida and the Grand Bahamas. Even with the trip being a “time share tactic,” we had a wonderful time in Fort Lauderdale, and a three-day stay in the Bahamas in which we cruised to the Island. The vacation concluded in Orlando.

Even being a certified SCUBA diver, I didn’t totally anticipate an opportunity to get wet. This was during the beginning of our relationship. my girlfriend wasn’t a diver nor enthused to become one. I was naïve enough to believe I didn’t need to pack any dive gear. Supposedly, my certification card was all I needed. I could rent gear. My dive mask was prescription; it wouldn’t take up too much space. It was packed, just in case.

We boarded the cruise ship in Fort Lauderdale for the Bahama leg at 6:00 am. The first item on the agenda was to feed us breakfast before we even left port. Maybe it was a distraction on how long it took to depart, but the grand buffet was also a blessing. It helped absorb all the free alcohol. The staff made it their primary purpose to see their guests had a drink in their hands.

90 miles in 4 hours doesn’t seem productive, but once at sea, it didn’t matter. Frankly, being aboard the ship was memorable. I avoided as much alcohol as I could while my lady found a deck chair to relax. I explored. Setting the stage, we were on vacation; we ate, we drank, and we were merry.

On the second day, in the Bahamas, I thumbed through the yellow pages. I was in luck! There was a dive shop that had a trip planned for that very afternoon. A courtesy van fetched me from the resort where we stayed. As advertised, my PADI card was literally and figuratively golden. I was outfitted promptly after entering the dive shop.

Maybe beggars can’t be choosy, but my wetsuit and buoyancy vest seemed a little large for me. I could deal with that. I wasn’t at all impressed with the swim fins. I was used to my longer tips. These rentals were rather stubby. I seriously considered being able to propel more efficiently with my bare feet. Nevertheless, I was herded out onto the dock and then onto a waiting boat. The whole time, there was a building hype that we were embarking on two dives, one being a shark dive.

I had a little over 100 dives logged by this time. All of the dives were black water; this day would be my first saltwater experience. That was enough of a crowning achievement for me. I was a little hesitant to be diving with a capable man-eating fish. I’ve watched documentaries, and I’ve seen Jaws. Minus my experience in The Encounter, I tended to be the biggest fish in a smaller pond. Freshwater fish don’t tend to be huge. Bluegill are small but do bite; that’s more of a pinch; they don’t devour you with very little effort.

Although I’m proud of my time logged as a black water diver, that didn’t hold much merit with the other divers. They saw no joy in diving “mud puddles.” They all assured me that I wouldn’t want to after this dive.

Saltwater is different; the visibility is better, the water is warmer and deeper. The sea life is vastly different, BUT the divers were wrong. I never gave up the black water of home.

I mentioned earlier, how much I enjoyed the cruise ship. The dive boat was no different. I felt right at home when the diesel engine roared to life. I recognized the brand, but still inquired the captain. The vessel was powered by a Caterpillar. This one was a marine edition, similar to many that had powered trucks I had driven. Even powering propellers, a Cat has a distinctive sound and exhaust smell.

The dive master paired everyone up I wasn’t the only single in the party, so I was paired with a fellow that didn’t like to be partnered with a “mud puddle jumper” Considering I never saw him anywhere in the water, it was well evident his attitude was same buddy same ocean. I was okay with that. One thing these clowns didn’t realize about black water divers is they don’t get to freaked and can be self efficient. Later thoughts made me wish he was closer during the shark dive. Maybe the beasts would have found him more tasty and left me alone. Seriously, I didn’t really think that. I’m more cynical now as I write this.

Despite, being uncomfortable with unfamiliar and ill fitting gear, my first salt water dive was a pleasant adventure. The dive master apologized about the poor visibility. I had to scoff. 50 to 60 feet was extremely good in my thinking.

The boat was relocated during our surface interval. During the time, I listened to the dive plan breifing, which was more excited hype on how wonderful the dive would be. I wasn’t paying complete attention, I was distracted looking for chain mail.

Maybe there was a cage to protect us underwater? Nope! The plan was for the divers to kneel on the bottom and face outward. We were warned ro keep our hands close to our bodies. Heaven forbid we didn’t want a confused shark to swim off with a detached hand or arm!

I’m no prude, in fact I was hung over. During the surface interval some divers fired up for a few tokes. Good idea! Be mellow while we were swiming with the man eaters. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad plan, maybe the sharks would be mellow with a contact high. Oh yeah, the sharks may get the munchies… Where was the chain mail?

The divers arrived at “shark juntion,” which turned out to be a sandy spot at about 50 foot depth. There was no safety cage. The only notable man made deposit was a propane looking tank with no openings. We circled the tank kneeled facing out and waited.

There were no sharks. Maybe they hadn’t got the memo for a meet up.

Out of the murky shadows they began to appear. The hazard of the 50 foot low vis. I guess they were just running late of schedule. Probably coming from other meet ups.

The beasts were huge! They approuched and circled us getting ever closer. I could reach out and touch them. I could but I didn’t. I think I peed myself. It was salt water, who would know?

There was a problem of our earlier arrival.We needed to leave first, before the sharks were on their way. Air supply was limited.

As they circled we swan as a group. Remember the stubby fins I complained about? I didn’t find it prudent to be in the tail end of our ascent to the surface.

Obviously, all ended well. I lived to descibe the tale. I was ready to get back to my girlfriend and a drink or two.

Despite misgivings the dive was quite a rush!

The Encounter

March 16, 2026May 4, 2026 ~ Rick ~ Leave a comment

Editors note As intro, I wrote this short story so many years ago. I honestly can not recall exactly when. This may be the first time it’s been available for public view. I came across this story while cleaning out my filing cabinet.

I was active as a SCUBA diver , back in the 90s. My late mother and her second husband were both certified. We dove as a family and had a close friendship circle. This story may better explain how my novels were created.

With a little rewritten editing, I present The Encounter

The lake was tranquil. Visibility about twenty feet, which was above average for black water. The temperate water was momentarily disturbed by three divers moving at a leisurely pace. Although the lake’s maximum depth was 30 feet, The divers traveled at a depth of 15 foot,, line abreast. The left diver was arms length, While the right diver stretched the formation, being 6 feet distant from the center. The visibility allowed the three to be within sight of each other.

As they propelled along, it was obvious by the minimum air bubbles, that escaped their regulators and by their posture the three were relaxed. The diving rigs were well squared away to defuse any drag. They all displayed experience. The depth they maintained was good placement from the bottom. They had good sight lines and less possibility of silting out their return trip.

The water held no thermocline, a sudden change of temperature as depth changes. Fish of various sizes could be seen, ranging from small blue gill to a good sized bass every now and then. Blue gill were as annoying as flies, being curious, with little fear of the divers. The bass were more shy eluding the strange large noisy apparitions.

This environment had become more natural for the divers Hues of grey, brown and tan, competed with darker shadows. The divers had trained and learned from experience about this hostile world. It was no longer as alien

Suddenly,, from the murk, a sailboat looking shadow emerged. It was odd looking, with a snout shaped like an upside down spade. The fish moved effortlessly and gracefully, mouth agape as it fed on plankton. This was the elusive fish the divers were prizing to see. The spoonbill! With great luck, there were more than one. There were several. More appeared everywhere.

The size of the fish were in the same size range as the divers. Average length seemed to measure at least eight feet. One fish came within feet of the right diver, opening its mouth to feed. The diver noted how big around the fish was, thinking a railroad tie could easily be swallowed.

As sudden as the fish appeared, the next instant they were gone. Leaving behind smiling faces and pleasant memories. The diving three would hold cherished memories as they returned to their exit. This foreign exciting world was in a sense, right in their own back yard.

*Bonnie Jennings and her kid. This was taken sometime in the 90s*

Author’s note. I was the right diver. My mom was center and Ron, her husband was left. The lake is in Logansport IN. This had been our third venture to that particular lake It was an annual trip. Divers tend to navigate close to the bottom for easier reference. Our gained experience taught us to stay at a depth further from the bottom when visibility allowed. It’s safe to assume we never saw spoonbills because they aren’t bottom feeders. The first two years we ,more than likely, were underneath them. None of us thought to look up!

The water color was painted by my aunt Penny Kessler.

More Fiction

March 22, 2020May 4, 2026 ~ Rick ~ Leave a comment

It seems my novelist skills were well received. Some of the Facebook group have encouraged me to create further content of this manner. I will continue to stay within the parameters of my blog main topics though.

Strangeness in the South 40 Continues.

I didn’t tell anybody about my encounter when I got to the barn lot. Who would believe me anyway! I had been there and was still processing the event. Had it been nothing but my imagination? The rock thrown, hitting my plow shear, had left a chalk like mark though.

I didn’t get harassed about coming in with darkness quickly falling. The old reliable M didn’t have the best lighting, which made it hard to see at night. The bitter chill was overtaking any warmth found as the sunlight had retreated. It was time to call it a day anyway.

I did overhear a mumbled comment about pushing the old tractor to fast. My racing and bumping, creating a clatter, was unusual. Vintage and antique equipment were treated with great respect on this farm.

I had great trepidation, realizing I had to go back and finish plowing the south 40. The duties still needed completion regardless of my attitude. The next morning, I swallowed as much of my fear as I could, and headed back to the field.

The morning went by with no incident. It was slightly warmer as the sun rose higher in the pale sky. My eyes were constantly scanning all the scenery and my head was constantly swiveling in every direction possible. I was seeking any abnormalities hiding in the darker forrest. It was difficult to stay focused on the task at hand. The electric adrenaline feeling had returned, I sensed I was being watched again.

My nose soon alerted me to an offensive smell. It was stronger when I neared the tree line. The pungent odor of wet, rank dirty dog combined with the smell of dead animal attacked my sinus. A skunk would have smelled more pleasant!

I had planned the plowing so that I had worked my way out to the edge from the middle. Each pass drew me closer to the trees. I dreaded my actions after last night’s bizarre occurence. The tree line felt as if it was closing in, making it easier for the villianice specters to reach out and grab me off the operator’s seat. My imagination had gone into overdrive.

Fortunately, the cornstalks weren’t hampering the plow. I wasn’t real comfortable with the idea of stopping to clean out a plug anyway. I felt vulnerable enough slowly moving in the open. This was one of the very few times I would have rather dealt with the noisy confinement of a cab. There probably wouldn’t have been any more safety in a enclosed area. That was nothing more than an idea of false sense of security.

A rock zipped past my ear with fierce intensity. The projectile had been close enough I felt it brush the side of my head. One inch closer and I would have been struck in the eye. My immediate reaction was to mash the clutch pedal bringing the unit to an abrupt halt. Angrily, I looked all around, but observed nothing out of the ordinary. Now it wasn’t the reaction of fear, I was mad!

After calming myself, I assessed the situation with more reason. The only place of concealment the rock could come from was still a good distance. Whoever, or whatever, made that pitch had more power and accuracy than a major league pitcher. Intelligence to know vulnerable points was also demonstrated. This knowledge was rather disturbing.

I heard the sound of another tractor in the distance. The volume was increasing. I observed another plow unit head to the field. I sat back down and eased out the clutch, the old M started forward with a slight strain. I had my doubts, but maybe I’d be safer with the increase in numbers.

The plowing force soon increased again. Shortly there were three tractor and plows working in unison. A three bottom plow pulled by another M and an old John Deere fell into the work. The old A’s distinctive chugging sound overtook most of the created human noise pollution.

The electric feeling, of adrenaline, faded in short time. I started to get more comfortable now that there was companionship. It never occurred to me the unpleasant odor still lingered until I observed one of the other operators sniffing the air. He gave me a puzzled look, pinched his nose and shrugged, indicating he found the smell strange and offensive. He asked me later, when we had stopped, if I had hit a skunk.

Fiction Fun

February 27, 2020May 4, 2026 ~ Rick ~ Leave a comment

I need to get out more and discover material to report. For a change up, I’m going to give my following an opportunity to review my novelistic talent.

Strangeness in the South 40

Our farm operation was several years behind the times. Our neighbors planted straight rows using GPS and enjoyed the comfortable controlled environment of a modern tractor. We didn’t always have the luxury of a cab, and guided by dead reckoning. The tractors that did have cabs were nothing more than a noisy box to shelter from wind and wet. I had learned to layer clothing to utilize my own body heat. I actually preferred to drive an open station unit anyway.

There was just something about the feel and smell this evening. The chill fall air was pleasant against my only exposer, my face. I cold smell the rich earth as the dirt glided and rolled through the three bottom plow I was pulling. I was operating one of my favorite tractors. It was built several years before I was even born, but it stood up, proudly, to the duties asked of it. The old Farmall M purred like the well tuned machine it was. I admired the shine of the red hood before me. Hints of warmth came from the exhaust stack that lightly glowed from the work strain. It was a wonderful evening to be farming.

Dusk was starting to darken the pale clear sky now. The colorful pastel canvas displayed shades of blue, green and hints of red. It wasn’t quite dark enough to really need lights, but shadows were starting to creep from the timbered field edge. Darkness was beginning to claim the landscape. This particular area of the farm could give a particular sense of forbidding. Tonight revealed to be one of those nights of eeriness.

A turn around was coming up. The end row was shaded by the timber edge. I noticed corn stalks were jamming up my middle plow shear, which would need kicked out before it plugged tightly. I rolled to a stop and idled the tractor down. Sighing dejectedly, I stood and stepped backwards down to the U shape of the drawbar and stepped further down until I was on the ground. I took out an ear plug and let my hearing adjust to the surroundings. It was silent, just way to quiet. The only sound was the tractor engine idling. This was very peculiar. My eyes gazed slowly and carefully around, but I didn’t realize anything extraordinary.

I should be hearing crickets, maybe some woodland cadences, but….nothing. My footsteps loudly crunched as I maneuvered myself to clear the plow shear. My body felt like electric adrenaline was quickly flowing, this caused me to go on high alert. I couldn’t shake the feeling as if I was being watched. I quickly bent to my task, the sooner I could get back on the operator’s seat, the sooner I could move on.

Tink! A rock the size of my fist hit the shear to my right. I jumped barely missing bumping my head against the plow frame. As I turned to scan the tree line another large rock zipped inches past my head. There had been power propelling the object. I heard a whizz sound as it past, impacting the ground with a hard thump behind me.

“What the…” I exclaimed not finishing my thought. A VERY large dark indescribable shadow moved directly in front of me. Out of the darkness a man shaped form materialized. This was nobody I recognized! I judged the figure to stand at least eight feet tall!

A very primitive looking being with menacing dark eyes stood just beyond my tractor. Dark hair covered a majority of the naked body. This was very decidedly male, I’m not going into detail on that, just trust me. He was extremely well muscled and presented a athletic body a wrestler or football player would desire.

We stood within a short few yards of each other. I was trembling with fear, but I stood my ground trying to hide my terror. I could feel a penetrating gaze as if I was being measured and evaluated. Finally the mighty beast, nonchalantly turned and walked away as if I were being dismissed. I heard a loud crunch behind me and I quickly turned to see a large fleeting shadow disappear into the woods on my right. There had been more than one!

Shakily collecting myself, I climbed back in the operator’s chair on wobbling legs. I was done plowing for the evening. In fact I picked a higher gear to get back to the farmstead.

Avoiding the Darkness

February 16, 2020May 4, 2026 ~ Rick ~ Leave a comment

My heart hurts right now!

Ultimate Choice

There is always another alternative
It didn’t have to come to this
Make the choice that you live
Think of the loved ones that miss

You’ll make us always wonder
If there was a silent plea?
Friends would have stop this tragic blunder
Help you work to cast the darkness free

I wish I’d truly known
to prevent this horrific end
Love and peace answer shown
You’ve always had a friend!

In your aftermath, you left much grief
Many feel the burden of pain
Do you feel a final relief?
While others deal from your final gain

Valley drops and theres hills to climb
There is always a chance for a sunny day
This is something we all learn in time
But you chose not to even stay!

Recently I lost a very close friend. We had known each other for nearly 30 years. In that time I discovered a very talented, loyal and trustworthy brother. Our friendship had been tempered by shared hardship and polished with many joyful times. We had seen alot together. My heart is broken because I didn’t realize the pain he had been hiding and I feel I let him down. My friend took his own life.

The circumstances behind this tragic event were revealed to be inevitable medically. That doesn’t take the sting totally away though. Another issue, I tend not to dwell on, came to the forefront of my concern.

The scary part is, I’ve talked to several people about depression and come to the realization we all fight the demons. It’s hard not to hear their lure. A few of my friends honestly admitted, to me, they have to work to stay beyond the darkness.

I, personally, hear the whispers. I like to think I’m strong enough to not give in. It’s not so much a daily fight anymore, as it had been a few years ago. I’ve learned to set goals and count my life’s blessing to counteract and defeat.

2014 was not my shining year. At 50 years old, I was looking at starting over. My parents had both passed away, the rest of my family is scattered, and I was going through a bankruptcy. I felt alone and didn’t feel it worth struggling anymore. I didn’t see a point!

The gun was loaded. I was working up my courage, when I heard a sweet familiar voice. My mother was standing in my bedroom doorway. She told me what I was contemplating wasn’t the answer. My life would get better. My life did from that dark moment and continues to improve every day.

Not everyone is blessed with a Devine intervention. There is always support though. This subject isn’t easy to discuss and many of us don’t like to admit defeat or failure. If this is a problem you deal with….Please seek help, be it professional or even talking to a trusted love one. Don’t ever think a life doesn’t matter! Don’t ever feel you’re alone!

This may be a strange subject for my blog format. This is my public playground, and I can’t promise it’s always going to be a perfect paradise. There might be some mud here and there. It’s not easy to open myself up and lay bare some of my darkest secrets. This may have been more an outlet to release pent up emotions, so I can move on.

Many of my tractor friends are like extended family. We all share a common passion, but some of us create strong bonds. We need to look out for one another, and talk to each other. Anything and EVERYTHING should be done so a tragic suicide will be prevented.

My parting thought

You stay until you’re taken
It’s not in the rules you get to quit
travel the road you help makin
You can’t progress if you just sit

Tomorrow is another day. I’ll see you then.