FROM MY EARLIEST DAYS as a trainee diver in the temperate waters of Sydney, Australia to the recent course I helped to teach, there has been one over-riding topic of conversation among student divers. Sharks!
     After watching Jaws in the '70s, the beaches of the world seemed to become potential shark-attack situations. All boat rides were a worry, even on lakes. Sharks touch a core instinct in humans - fear.
     The fact is that few sharks pose an unmitigated danger to mankind. There are many other creatures down there that can cause problems for the unwary diver or swimmer and, after all, the most dangerous animal in the sea is you.
     Sharks have two basic instincts, to eat and to reproduce. And as they have been around since the time of the dinosaurs, they seem to have it about right.
     We humans are pretty useless in the water. Slow, cumbersome and without natural breathing aids, we are flapping surface-dwellers.
     Wild animals, whether on land or sea, are just that: wild. Like all animals, they need to be treated with respect. I learned early on in my diving career about respecting wild animals, when I was bitten by a wobbegong shark while diving at Sydney Harbour's north head.
     I know it's not the stuff of heroes, being bitten by a "carpet shark". I had been told by numerous "experienced" divers that wobbegongs were fun to play with. You could pull their tails or drop things on them for a giggle, they said.
     What I wasn't told was that they were very powerful and fast animals that crush lobster and crab-shells as we crush paper. They also neglected to tell me that the wobbegong can turn in its own body length and bite anything that happens to be holding onto its tail.
     Lastly, they failed to mention that these "gummy" sharks have pencil-like teeth.
     I wasn't playing with or teasing the shark. I'm not that brave or stupid. I was moving an anchor chain off a large flat boulder in 23m of water onto the sand when I disturbed it as it lay perfectly camouflaged right beside me.
     As the anchor chain dragged over him, he bit at the nearest thing he could, which happened to be the inner thigh of my right leg.
     I didn't have a crush-tester with me, so all I can tell you is that this 1.5m shark had my leg in a vice-like grip. The pain was immense as the little darling thrashed from side to side between my legs.
     My first thought was to reach for a knife, but that was past his mouth on my left calf, and there was no way I wanted to present my arm for another quick chomp.
     The attack stopped when I pushed the wobbegong on his nose and he let go. The whole event was over pretty quickly, but it seemed like a lifetime.
     He swam off in the same direction as my dive buddy had taken. I was dumped on the seabed, gasping for breath.
     My buddy returned to see if I was OK. In essence, I was, but I had two problems.
     First, I was hyperventilating; second, there was 23m of clear blue ocean above me and my only thought was to reach fresh air as soon as possible.
     As I sat trying to get my heart rate and breathing under control, I wondered what the damage was beneath my new 5mm wetsuit. I could see no blood; he hadn't ripped anything away from my leg. What worried me was that I couldn't feel my leg.
     I sat on the seabed with my buddy for a good few minutes trying to calm my breathing. After a while we made the world's slowest ascent to the surface, to avoid out-gassing too quickly.
     Back on the boat, the wetsuit was removed and a bruise from crotch to ankle had appeared. There were also six puncture holes in my leg where those teeth had penetrated the wetsuit. My suit fitted snugly and there was little bleeding from the wound.
     I had the feeling back in my leg by now. After a quick trip to the medical centre and a tetanus jab in the bum, I was fine.
     At the time I did most of my diving around Sydney, and for a while kept well away from anything potentially threatening. Then, a couple of months later on a trip to the Great Barrier Reef, I was aghast when a divemaster suggested we all go and play with the wobbegongs. I politely told him what had happened to me. He never suggested that game again.
     In truth, my nibble from a wobbegong was no life-threatening event. I was far more likely to run into problems with a fast ascent. The fact is, I was bitten by an apparently "harmless" carpet shark. Oh yes, that's right, a wild animal.
     The story has bought me a beer or two over the years. When I help out new divers on courses, it's a story I tell them after they have qualified. I warn them of potential marine dangers, but there is no need to scare them any further.
     In hindsight, the shark was having a Sunday-afternoon kip when a clumsy diver knocked him with a chain. I'm sure that if the same thing happened to me, I'd be cranky too.