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Back in July of '92, I was the senior aircrewman onboard DD-989, and we were down in the Caribbean doing the Counter Drug Ops thing. This consisted of flying around, doing a radar and visual search for the drug runners.
One fine day, and I do mean FINE! We zoomed around and came upon scraggly assed fishing trawler. It had rust and stains all over and looked barely able to continue its mission. It was flying a dishrag looking Venezuelan flag and was chugging along. we did a lookover and called the skipper, did the list of questions and established the bona fides.
As we started to fly away, the pilot in command loudly said, "Wooooahhh. F*^%$!"
We looked down and saw the biggest effing hammerhead, lolling along about a hundred yards off of the fishing boat! I mean about 30 foot, if he was a day!!!!
Kinda gives one chills... especially since we could fly into the water at any minute!
I tossed a mark 25 smoke on the position to let everyone know that something was there. No doubt the Venezuelans would like to know about this creature.
That's when that shark starts nosing the smoke and looking like he was establishing if that shiny piece of flaming aluminum was food!
Pilot: "If that shark bites that smoke, he'll never go back to Mexicans..."
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