Thursday, July 10, 2003

Chap 10, part 7

I looked around and was inclined to agree with him. The insulted shark had let go a might wallop with his tail, catching Cherry squarely in the face and knocking him into the bottom of the boat on top of Reynolds. Blood was gushing from Bill's nose. I thought we would never get it stopped. A month later it was still sore and he was afraid a cartilage had been broken.

I will say to the reader now just what I told Bill Cherry then. If you have anything insulting to say to a shark, wait until you are safely back in San Francisco, then write him a letter.

There is no entry in my diary for the 16th day adrift and only one for the 17th. This reads:

"Still in doldrums. Water low. Hopes low."

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