My friend's uncle is Bahamian and has one of those houses over a river on stilts where the shitter just drops straight into the water. There were tons of groupers under the house (I think they ate the poo) and you could catch them with a piece of hotdog on a hook dangled on a piece of string. Big fuckers. Very tasty.
There's a guy who works in the gunroom at Asprey's on New Bond Street who used to be a diver in the Navy. His eventual speciality was deep sea diving and, after leaving the navy, he'd test deep sea diving equipment and stuff. One year some Americans invited him and a former marine also into diving to take part in an attempt to beat World and European suit-diving records ( the Americans would beat the world, and the Brits the European, obviously).
Suit-diving is basically deep-sea diving outside a submersiable vechicle. You're lowered in a James Bond style pod to insane depths. Then - in a pressure suit, breathing gas mixture - you're let out and lowered to the required record depth by a life-line. The two of you go down together with no way to communicate - pitch dark, except the lights attached to your helmets. You hang there for a certain time, the two of you gripping each other's wrists, for say 15 minutes.
So there they are. Suddenly the gunroom man lookes into the helmet of the ex-marine and can only see his eyes wide open with fear and his face contorted in a terrible silent scream -
he eventually manages to move himself and the marine around - the ex-marine having just lost it - and all he can see, coming out of the pitch dark, is the mouth of a massive Goliath grouper - "about the size of a mini," he said.
After their allotted time, the gunroom man tries to get them back in the pod, but the ex-marine is so rigid with fear, physically incapable by now, that he gets his equipment stuck in the hatch. Gunroom man thinks, shit, the only way to get him in is press down on his head, so he can go out and come back in, so he starts pushing the ex-marine with his foot. The americans think he's gone mad, thining he's trying to kill the ex-marine or something, and try to intervene. In desperation the gunman room knocks them both out, breaking
the gunroom man breaks the nose of one of the American divers and knocks them both out. He presses his foot down on the ex-marine's head and drags him in, shaking and almost immobile.
To depressurise, suit-divers have to stay in the pod for five days, longer than coming back from the moon. the gunroom man said, "I was there for five days, with 2 Americans saying, "we're going to fucking kill you" and one ex-marine is a state of babbling psychosis.
Later on, back on dry land, he asked the ex-marine why he freaked out. "It was only a grouper." The ex-marine replied that all he could see was an enormous mouth emerging out of the darkness behind the gunroom man. "I thought it was going to eat you, and then me." The ex-marine never dived again.
The reason for his response was sheer shock and terror cooupled with the strange phsyical effect of breathjing mixed gasses: once you lose it, you lose it proper.
Did anyone see that programme the other night about hammerhead sharks. It was really good, Hammerheads are the most intelligent sharks, using their electronic sensors to full potential, making them able to catch squid in the dark !!!!! Oh, and the music was by Brian Eno too, nature programmes really are the only thing to watch these days.