I was driving my daughter -- who was dressed as a bumble bee, complete with stinger-- to school when Boris Karloff's Monster Mash came on the radio. For some reason I was reminded of a story submission by our erstwhile Science Scribe that I had shelved last week without so much as reading. Thinking, "Oh what the hell, it's Halloween," I am releasing it at this time.
STINGRAY STORY by the Science Scribe.
Ponte Haute, Lake Michigan, October 23, 2006
The winds on this inland sea are blowing out of the northwest; a sure sign that Fall, if not the GOP, is in full surrender.
We are here on assignment to study one of the great mysteries of our time: why the peace-loving stingray has decided to turn on humans.
With two new stingray attacks since Jeff Irwin's fatal encounter -- after centuries of lying near-dormant on the ocean floor, minding its own business -- it's clear that we are experiencing the opening volleys of a Worldwide Invasion of the Stingrays.
In the latest (Oct. 19) attack, a spotted eagle stingray leapt into a boat at Lighthouse Point Florida and harpooned James Bertakis in the chest, to the horror of his granddaughter and a friend. He is in critical condition with the barb still in his heart.
Another man, Joe Mcknight, barely survived a stingray attack after being stabbed in the leg on Okiwi Bay in Australia while diving for crayfish. Mr. Mcknight had inadvertently thrown himself on the barbie.
"My friend said, 'Mate, you're going to the hospital.' I felt quite embarrassed," said the Aussie, who had remembered reading about the American tourist, Chazz Marshall, who had been bitten by a stingray while snorkeling for mussels in Abel Tasman National Park back in 2002.
So here we are, 12 miles off Ponte Haute Michigan in 40 fathoms of water, and I am about to dive into these icy waters to see if I can't unravel the mystery surrounding these strange and worrisome stingray attacks.
PNN, having cut off my retainer, has forced me to dive without gloves or flashlight, reducing my sorry ass to feeling it's way through the murky darkness. I come upon an old pie plate, and nearly jump out of my wetsuit. I hate it when that happens.
I feel large, tentacled, aqua-creatures brushing against my legs, but without any light source, I can only guess as to their nature, or intentions. I sense that eels are prairie-dogging out of their lairs sifting the water for my scent. Improperly insulated, I must pee in my wetsuit to keep from becoming hypothermic.
Meanwhile, topside, my crew works without pay in what amounts to a overgrown rowboat, pumping an old bicycle pump that is delivering air to my divers-bell helmet. Without air, I can only survive for a short time before becoming an integral part of Lake Michigan.
In my seclusion, I start thinking about asking PNN's editor for more money. My $600 advance had run out before I had even left the airport, and now I am facing a lonely death without having found the object of my search, the spotted stingray.
Are all publications this cheap? I think, when suddenly, before me, I see....
PNN Interrupts This Transmission: "Cut. Cut. Enough of this nonsense. On behalf of the Science Scribe, I apologize to each and every PNN reader for this ugly, self-serving piece of journalistic junk. With the midterm elections approaching, the electorate is far too busy watching attack ads to indulge our sorry, and soon to be unemployed, Science Scribe.
-ed
STINGRAY STORY by the Science Scribe.
Ponte Haute, Lake Michigan, October 23, 2006
The winds on this inland sea are blowing out of the northwest; a sure sign that Fall, if not the GOP, is in full surrender.
We are here on assignment to study one of the great mysteries of our time: why the peace-loving stingray has decided to turn on humans.
With two new stingray attacks since Jeff Irwin's fatal encounter -- after centuries of lying near-dormant on the ocean floor, minding its own business -- it's clear that we are experiencing the opening volleys of a Worldwide Invasion of the Stingrays.
In the latest (Oct. 19) attack, a spotted eagle stingray leapt into a boat at Lighthouse Point Florida and harpooned James Bertakis in the chest, to the horror of his granddaughter and a friend. He is in critical condition with the barb still in his heart.
Another man, Joe Mcknight, barely survived a stingray attack after being stabbed in the leg on Okiwi Bay in Australia while diving for crayfish. Mr. Mcknight had inadvertently thrown himself on the barbie.
"My friend said, 'Mate, you're going to the hospital.' I felt quite embarrassed," said the Aussie, who had remembered reading about the American tourist, Chazz Marshall, who had been bitten by a stingray while snorkeling for mussels in Abel Tasman National Park back in 2002.
So here we are, 12 miles off Ponte Haute Michigan in 40 fathoms of water, and I am about to dive into these icy waters to see if I can't unravel the mystery surrounding these strange and worrisome stingray attacks.
PNN, having cut off my retainer, has forced me to dive without gloves or flashlight, reducing my sorry ass to feeling it's way through the murky darkness. I come upon an old pie plate, and nearly jump out of my wetsuit. I hate it when that happens.
I feel large, tentacled, aqua-creatures brushing against my legs, but without any light source, I can only guess as to their nature, or intentions. I sense that eels are prairie-dogging out of their lairs sifting the water for my scent. Improperly insulated, I must pee in my wetsuit to keep from becoming hypothermic.
Meanwhile, topside, my crew works without pay in what amounts to a overgrown rowboat, pumping an old bicycle pump that is delivering air to my divers-bell helmet. Without air, I can only survive for a short time before becoming an integral part of Lake Michigan.
In my seclusion, I start thinking about asking PNN's editor for more money. My $600 advance had run out before I had even left the airport, and now I am facing a lonely death without having found the object of my search, the spotted stingray.
Are all publications this cheap? I think, when suddenly, before me, I see....
PNN Interrupts This Transmission: "Cut. Cut. Enough of this nonsense. On behalf of the Science Scribe, I apologize to each and every PNN reader for this ugly, self-serving piece of journalistic junk. With the midterm elections approaching, the electorate is far too busy watching attack ads to indulge our sorry, and soon to be unemployed, Science Scribe.
-ed
posted by R. Reynolds at 10:12 AM
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