Shark stories. Everybody's got one. I have two. Mention sharks to any surfer, windsurfer or standup paddler, and you will get their immediate attention. The fear and fascination with sharks is universally gripping. Odds are you have more of a chance of getting hit by lighting or choking on a buffalo wing than getting bit by a shark.

Think you taste like chicken? Your shark is not a fan of KFC. He bites hoping that you'll taste like sushi. Or seal. Trouble is, the consequences of an exploratory bite delivered by a curious great white are often fatal. He may decide your foul taste and neoprene wrapper is only a minor annoyance. You'll make an adequate warm snack until something better comes along.

Tale #1:
Waddell Creek, CA

Windsurfing California's wild north coast on a cold and blustery spring day, I was walking across the shallow rock reef on the inside when I noticed a triangle-shaped dorsal fin slicing through the water. When it began to head right toward me, it got my full attention. There was no mistaking this for anything other than what it was.

My instincts and adrenaline kicked in. I moved to the left. The fin moved in unison with me. I changed direction. The fin came even closer, closing the gap between us. Then, with one flick of its powerful tail, the shark charged. Zoning in for the kill? I concluded that this 18-inch sand shark was scared shitless and trying desperately to get out of my way before I stepped on him. Yeah, I said 18 inches. It could have been smaller, but I doubt it. "Small denizen of the notso-deep."

Say the word shark and you are bound to round up some hysteria. After Erica Fox, a swimmer and triathlete, was recently killed by a great white at Lovers Point in Monterey, the news crews — both local and national — went bonkers. One serious-faced television reporter announced that a helicopter search for the murderous shark was proving unsuccessful. She delivered this bad news from the picturesque Lovers Cove beach, with an empty surf zone beyond. When large predatory fish learn to fly they'll be much easier for our helpful news choppers to spot. Journalists began writing stories with the tiresome "Denizen Of The Deep Strikes Again" headline. Grim statistics and archived photos of surfboards with crescent-shaped bite marks in them resurfaced in the media. The theme from Jaws was cued up once again to herald "film at eleven" on nearly every television channel.

Tale #2:
Moss Landing, CA

I went surfing with my girlfriend down at Moss Landing a few winters ago. It was her first time there and she was a little apprehensive knowing its sharky reputation. This day the waves were small and uncrowded. It was a beautiful winter day on Monterey Bay. After about an hour, and some fun waves, she was back on the beach, frantically waving her arms to get my attention. Was she jumping for joy for my beautifully carved cutback? She's Italian and easily excitable, and I swear it was a nice cutback. I gave her a thumbs up. But, her disturbing hand signals continued. I rode a wave in to see what was up.

For the entire session a small harbor seal had been circling us. A cute juvenile, we thought the little guy was just being playful. My girlfriend's voice rose a few octaves as she explained that our little seal was no more. It was, she cried, now in the mouth of a great white shark.

Being the caring and all-knowing boyfriend that I am, I attempted to console her escalating hysteria. After all, lots of big things, like sea lions or dolphins, could easily be mistaken for a shark. She grabbed my arm and pointed to the boil that popped up right where we’d been surfing. "The shark," she yelled, "was no dolphin! It was bigger than a Suburban!” She described in great detail how the shark shot up from the depths, grabbed the seal in its jaws, and then laid backwards, sinking into the sea. The huge girth of the falling predator caused the ocean's surface to bend downward and resemble water leaving a draining sink. She described the awe and terror she felt when her brain finally registered what it was seeing. As I tried to convince her otherwise, I kept one eye on the swirling water. Birds were dropping down to skim the surface, but not landing on it. Suddenly a HUGE great white shark rose out of the center of the boil, violently shaking what was left of the seal then sinking underwater once again. Well... yes. She WAS right. That was a GIANT great white shark eating our little friend, the seal. No doubt about it. The shark chomped down again and disappeared, just like a smart shark should: “Large Denizen Of The Deep Strikes Again.”

Since that day, I have shared this shark tale many, many times. There is a kind of morbid fascination with something so predatory that its sole intention is to drag you out of the safety of your cave and eat you alive. A full-grown shark will chow down with absolutely no negotiation or apology for exercising its primal survival skills.

So what are we to do about these denizens of the deep? Well, I am now very careful when walking in a thunder shower or eating buffalo wings. No shark tale should ever be told by anyone with a full mouth. It's just a start. Something we can all do