A few years ago, a friend of mine was in training for her new job with the State Department. Her first assignment was in the Bahamas and who would complain about that? Well, she did, but that is not the point of this blog. One part of her training was how to handle calling someone’s family to notify him or her that a family member was killed by wildlife. For example, say an American was diving and was killed by a tiger shark. Apparently, if someone were killed in that scenario, she would have to call the family and inform that that the individual was killed by “aggressive wildlife.”
I always made a joke about this, and like a lot of jokes, there is some truth behind the joke. If my friend had to make that call to my mom, my friend probably wouldn’t even get to the “aggressive wildlife” statement. As soon as she said she was from the State Department, my mom’s response would be “What did he do now?” And if she finally did to the wildlife portion of the call, my mom wouldn’t be surprised. She’d probably say something like “He probably provoked it” or “I’m sure he did something stupid.” My mom knows me all to well.
I respect nature, and I hope I wouldn’t do something to provoke a shark attack, but if I do, I would die enjoying myself. Well, probably not at the moment of the attack, but right up until that point I probably would have a smile on my face.
Now, onto my friend complaining about being stationed in the Bahamas. It seems that after you hit the beach and the bars there isn’t much else to do. Now if I were there, I would go diving every day, though hopefully not alone. I would dive tiger beach and swim with the tiger sharks. I would dive the reefs. Aggressive wildlife would definitely kill me.
And if I am ever killed by aggressive wildlife, I hope that my family wouldn’t blame the wildlife. I couldn’t live knowing they called for a cull. Well, I wouldn’t want a cull; it’s not the sharks fault that I am an idiot.