"Half way to the hospital the pain hits. I was passing out. My girlfriend was slapping me on the head, my friends were dumping water on my face."
Cole Taschman remembers the first time he was bitten by a shark surfing Bathtub beach on Florida’s Treasure coast twelve years ago.
“I was in waist deep water, walking out, then standing there, about to jump a wave. I saw him coming, a four-foot black tip, reef pup. His fin was outta the water, darting towards me. He was twenty yards away, made it to me in four seconds. Bit my hand, twelve stitches.”
Cole tells this story with the same ease and panache Quint tells the tale of the Indianapolis at midnight from the Orca.
Cole’s voice is salted, crusty, even for a young man, peppered with more experience than age. He’s a fishing boat captain, so he’s seen our boys in the open sea up close and personal and knows them well. He speaks about his most recent event at Bathtub beach, bitten for the second time, but this dental impression leaves a more resonating scar.
I ask him to describe the physical feeling of layered teeth sinking in.
Theres a pause, short breath.
“It’s indescribable. Like jumping outta a plane. You can never recreate it. The first thing I thought was, ‘I gotta get to shore.’ THEN comes ‘I’m bit.’ The pain doesn’t exist.”
The shark came from behind and bit both ankles and feet.
“A set wave came and I managed to take it to the beach. My two friends were there. They used leashes as tourniquets to stop the massive amounts of blood.”
The long ride to the hospital?
“Half way to the hospital the pain hits. I was passing out. My girlfriend was slapping me on the head, my friends were dumping water on my face.”
Three surgeries, ninety three stitches and ten ten staples later, Cole was stablised and eventually sent home where he sits, literally, in a world chair. He sure did come close to losing both feet.
Is he going to surf the tepid, oh so inviting waters for both species of Bathtub beach again?
“Hell yeah, mama didn’t raise no bitch!”
Cole is the Cap of a Florida fishing boat, no health insurance, and ouuuee those stitches ain’t the ones ya find at a sewing circle. If you’re so inclined, help a brah put a dent in the docs bill for sterilized needles. ie hit his gofundme here.