The Shark House

Journal Entry

From the journal of Minnow Gray

“We are born of sharks. From the beginning of time, sharks have swum through our lives and our islands, sleek as river stone,

elusive and ever present. They are our protectors, our ancestors, our future.”

When I first heard these words, spoken by a Hawaiian man I’ve come to know, I felt like I had returned home to a place I had

known only in my dreams. The words were electric and touched me in such a deep way, I realized everything I had believed until

that moment was just a human presumption. I thought I knew sharks, but really I knew nothing. In the passing years the words

have only grown louder and have pulled at me in a way nothing else ever has.

Looking back, I see that Hawai?i and I were destined for each other, that it would only be a matter of time until I found

my way to her looming volcanoes, rocky coastlines, and living blue waters. There were things I needed to learn about myself

and things I needed to learn about the sharks, and to realize that shimmering thread of connection. No one thinks of sound

when they think of sharks—they think instead of serrated teeth and gaping mouths and dorsal fins. But when I close my eyes,

I can still hear the sound of that tiger shark breaking water behind me like a sea-dappled missile. Something fierce and beautiful

to behold—and deadly.

I thought I knew sharks.