I’ve been asked time and again, “What
was it like…when it had its teeth around you?” I’ve relived that moment far too many times,
but I still couldn’t tell you with clarity what I was thinking. There was adrenalin, and fear, but what still
burns in my memory was its eye, with my own eyes being just inches away. That pure, perfect, impassive aggression as
it had both my arms between its jagged teeth; shearing my flesh from the bone, snapping
those bones with such ease, and I think what went through my mind was an unconscious realization
that I was just meat. This was all in day’s work, it was nothing
personal. It was hungry and I was there. As it ripped my limbs from my body I think
accepted my fate. I was seafood, and it was a bad day to go
surfing. Do you know what they say about me now? They say I shouldn’t be alive. But I am, and here’s my story. It was October, 2014, and my girlfriend and
I had decided to go to the beach. This was off the coast of Esperance in Western
Australia, some of the most beautiful and enchanting coastline in the country. But I was there for the surfing, not so much
the views. You could say surfing was my life; it was
what I was put here to do. Morning, afternoon, day in, day out, that’s
what I did when I wasn’t working. I never thought about the dangers, if you
did, you’d never get in the water. Statistically, there’s little chance you’ll
get seriously injured surfing, never mind die. I knew it happened to people. I knew people had lost their lives to sharks,
lost limbs, had their stomach’s ripped open, but I never thought it would happen to me. When I wasn’t working that’s all I did,
surf. I traveled the coast, looking for the perfect
break, traveling far and wide in an attempt to discover some hidden gem; my own private
surfing paradise. The more remote, the better, and on the fateful
day I had found such a place. It was about 8 am when I first got in the
water. The waves were perfect. The forecast for the day in my mind was another
brilliant day with the waves, the elements, the closest thing you get to walking on water. That’s’ what people might not realize
about surfing; the majesty of being carried along the waves, the sublime feeling of being
lost in the moment. For me, that was my religious ecstasy. It was my answer to futility. Everything made sense to me when I was in
the water. I was on an isolated stretch of beach, a place
where you’d find few surfers. What I didn’t know was that the locals were
well aware that there had been a lot of shark sightings there before I ended up staring
out at the horizon with my board in hand. Two great whites had been spotted just over
a week before I went in that water. In fact, I later saw photos of one of those
beasts right behind a guy who was surfing. This I knew nothing about at the time. My girlfriend was always wary of sharks, but
for me, I simply put them out of my mind. That day she said she was going to lie back
and do a bit of sunbathing. I spent some of my morning trying to teach
her this great skill, but she got fed up of that and then it was time for me to go it
alone. The conditions were right for a shark attack,
a large swell and poor visibility in the water, but as I said, I never worried about such
things. I paddled out, away from my girl, someone
who would never see me completely whole again. The sun shone down on her as I paddled further
away into the water, the waves eclipsing my body, now a soundless image to my lover. There I was, pretty much isolated, ready to
take on the surf. And then it struck, like being hit by a vehicle,
slammed by a submarine. Immediately I felt something snap, as if whatever
hit me had dislocated my knee. When that happens you need to think rationally,
but the panic, the pain, the shock, it overrides reason. That’s when I saw the thing, a great white
shark, and it wasn’t done with me in the slightest. I tried to paddle, but not splash around too
much. What I didn’t know is that the pain I felt
wasn’t a break or a dislocation from an impact, it was a bite. That beast had bitten right into both my legs
just below the knee. I would have already been gushing blood, but
my only concern was not getting hit again. I headed to the shore, but this thing just
kept circling around me. I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my life,
so small, so weak and at the mercy of something else. And then again it came, rushing in so fast
I was completely helpless. I tried to push myself up on the board, guard
myself against its rage, it’s hunger. It worked. That time it took a chunk of the board instead
of a chunk of me. There was perhaps hope now. The shark moved farther away, and I paddled
slowly towards the shore where my girlfriend was sitting completely unaware of what was
happening to me. But the shark was only setting itself up for
another charge. It had me in its sights and came from behind. Third time unlucky, I tried to do the same
and flip myself around and defend myself with the board. It was too fast, too strong, and this time
it emerged from the water, and those teeth, those eyes, were right on me. It grabbed me in its mouth and swung me to
the side, and that’s when my eyes met its eye. Something I will never be able to delete from
my memory. Looking into that polished orb, the darkest
and blackest thing I’ve ever looked into; a glaring stare, cruel and cold and perfectly
natural. To this day I can’t think of that sight
without shivering at the horror of what I saw. I remember vividly how the shutter of its
eye closed as it bit down on me. This is my recurring real life nightmare,
and I play it out a lot, even now. Both my arms are now in its mouth and its
violently shaking me, trying to rip them off, wanting me, needing me as merely another meal
in its daily routine. It dragged me down and I had to hold my breath. There was no way I was getting away from it,
not until it had some of my meat. The next thing I knew I was back with my head
above water, now stained by my own blood. Not entirely whole I thrashed in this red
sea, alive, but close to death. The shark had ripped off most of the flesh
on one of my arms, so much so it looked like a chicken bone stripped down of all its flesh. It also had my other hand. I had to get away, even as disabled as I was
I tried to swim. The irony of it all is that if it hadn’t
taken those limbs as a snack it would likely have kept me under the water and drowned me. I lost some pieces, but that saved me in the
end. I tried to paddle again towards the beach,
in shock, but intent to survive this ordeal. My surfboard was gone, floating further out
to sea. And then bang, I’m hit again, but not by
the same shark. There are two of them now and all I can do
is kick my legs. I saw one of the sharks heading in for another
attack, but then mother nature literally got my back. A wave broke behind me and I could just about
body surf it and get away from the sharks. And then another wave came, and I rode that,
too. About this time my girlfriend saw me riding
that wave. She stood up and when I could stand myself
she witnessed my lopsided, mangled body, dripping blood, shredded. I got lucky again because two cars of people
arrived at this isolated bit of beach. Some people in those families had first aid
training, which was another stroke of luck. The authorities were called, “We’ve got
a shark attack here, come immediately.” I was still trying to get through the shallows
to the beach, and then a couple of guys from those families came out to get me. I was at that point on my back, my eyes closed,
close to death. I remember them grabbing me and pulling me
back to the beach. They pulled me partly by my torso, having
lost one arm and some of the other. After they got me to the beach they surveyed
my injuries. Both my legs and both my arms had to be tied
with a tourniquet or else I would have bled out. I was actually conscious of all this going
on. I even said to my girlfriend, I don’t think
mom is going to happy about this. My attempt I guess at very dark humor. I told her I loved her, because I was aware
I might not ever see her again. I survived only because of those people on
the beach who made sure I didn’t bleed out. I survived because waves broke and carried
me away from those animals. I survived out of love for my girlfriend,
for my family. I also survived because at the beach those
people had made a makeshift stretcher out of a surfboard. It was hard to breath, I was fighting for
my life, and part of me thought this could be it, the end. The medics found me, conscious and talking. I said to the guy, “Please just stop this
pain.” Ravaged, I was taken to the hospital where
I would receive multiple blood and plasma infusions. They later flew me to Perth for life-saving
surgery. In the end my body was a patchwork of 95 stitches
and 45 staples holding it together. I’d lost most of my left arm and my right
hand. My tendons in my legs were so badly damaged
the road to walking again was a long one. At the beginning it was hard just to get out
of bed. What was merely a meal to those beasts became
months and months of mental torment for me. There were a lot of bad days. Trust me, not being able to tie your shoelaces
has an effect on you. But thanks to prosthetic limbs I am able to
do most basic things now. I learned to live again, and the days of depression
were outnumbered by the good days. I learned to drive with this new partly-mechanical
body. I cooked food, drank beers with my mates,
and I can’t tell you how good it felt just to be able to hold a bottle again, how great
it felt to just brush my own teeth. My girlfriend has stood by me. She’s never left my side, and this year
we got married. I even had the chance to visit those families
who no doubt saved my life. I am eternally in debt to those people. Just four years after the attack I represented
Australia in the 2018 Winter Olympics on the para-snowboarding team. I came fifth in the Men's Banked Slalom SB-UL
and ninth in the Men's Snowboard Cross SB-U. That’s not bad, but I wanted to do better. And I did. In 2019 I got my first medal, which was a
bronze in the in the Men's Snowboard Cross UL at the World Para Snowboard Championships. You could ask me now if I miss the water,
the sublimity of riding waves, that majesty of the ocean on a sunny day. My answer would be that I’m ok with the
snow. For the most part its toothless, and I doubt
I’ll be snowboarding into a bear any time soon. What do you think about this story? Tell us in the comments. Also, be sure to check out our other show
What If You Woke Up With Shark’s Teeth. Thanks for watching, and as always, don’t
forget to like, share and subscribe. See you next time.
