Survivors of Shark Attacks Advocate Shark Protection

Basking Shark

The chance of being attacked by a shark on the beach is about one in 11.5 million. The chance of being a victim of a shark attack, and then traveling to Washington D.C. to lobby for the creature's protection may be even less likely. Despite the odds, nine shark survivors are in the nation's capitol today to do just that. This lobbying effort, organized by an attack survivor and employee of the Pew Environment Group, seeks to influence members of Congress to pass restrictions for shark fishing.

According to a report by the Washington Post, about 32% of sharks and rays that live in open water are considered "threatened species." Much of this is attributed to shark finning, a practice where a shark is killed for its valuable fin and the remaining carcass is thrown back into the ocean. While this practice is only legal in a limited fashion off of the US West Coast, shark finning is much more common in international waters and the coastal waters of Asian countries. In these areas, shark fins are valued for their use in shark fin soup and exotic oils that capitalize on unproven rumors that sharks are immune to cancer.

Stories of Survival and Respect

The survivors of the shark attacks share similar stories: being struck with surprisingly muscular force, and being bitten on the stomach or arm as the shark takes multiple passes at the swimmer. "I just figured, I'm done" said Mike deGruy, a marine biologist who was bitten by a gray reef shark while diving in the Pacific Ocean in 1978. DeGruy bled in shark infested waters for 25 minutes as he struggled back to his boat. "I still, to this day, do not understand why I was not eaten, I must taste like crap."

Other survivors also shared similar humorous insights to their attacks with the media. Chuck Anderson, who lost his arm to a bull shark off the Alabama coast in 2000, jokes that the waterproof Timex watch that was on his wrist was set to go off every morning at 5:15am, and that's revenge enough. In addition to his lobbying efforts to protect sharks, Anderson is also a triathlete who competes with a specially made prosthetic limb that resembles a flipper.

Not all survivors of shark attacks turn advocate at first. Al Brenneka, who lost a limb to a shark attack, went on the offensive in the beginning. Brenneka would kill the sharks he hooked with a bang stick, a long pole with a bullet or shotgun shell at one end that explodes when jabbed into the shark's skin. He would then eat the meat and save the jaws as trophies. Decades later, Brenneka has come to accept that his aggressor was only doing what came natural, and now he advocates for shark protection.

The organizer of this march on Washington DC, Debbie Salamone, had her achilles tendon severed by a shark attack in waist deep water at Canaveral National Seashore. While she is still angry about it, she chose to see it as a tests of her resolve as an environmentalist. "We're seriously scarred ... and some of us are missing limbs, and we have every right to hate sharks," said Salamone of the aftermath of the attacks. "I think the message is: If we can see the value in saving sharks, everyone should."