Billy was put to work in the galley slicing vegetables for dinner which was a very difficult task to do well what with the rolling and pitching of the little boat in the not-so-rough seas. One evening, while he was having a particularly challenging time with some carrots he could overhear Captain Bunting and Clarence playing a drunken game of cards.

    "You know what the problem is with you, Clarence?" the captain asked. "You're all promise and no product."
    Being mute, Clarence said nothing in response to this.
    "It's in your fundamental make up. You're nothing but the raw material of a man. Now, don't get me wrong, I like what I see, but it's all so , how shall I say? Unfinished. Just look at yourself. By all standards of measurement you could be a CEO or president of your own country, but here you are nothing more than a deck hand on a second rate pirate ship . . ."

    Just then there was a terrible bumping noise as if the boat had run into something or something had run into it!
    "Billy!" the captain said, "go see what that was!"

Billy, unsure of what was waiting for him above decks, put his safety knife down and climbed up the steps. There didn't appear to be anything at all. He search the water around them but couldn't see anything in the water. So he looked around again, walking up to the bow and back to the stern and that's when he saw it . . . A black triangle of death slicing through the waters straight at the little boat!

    "Shark! Shark! Shark!" Billy yelled so loud his own ears started to ring.
    The captain and Clarence stumbled onto the deck. In his drunkenness, Clarence nearly fell overboard but the captain was able grab hold of his shirt collar and keep him out of the water.
    "What's this about a shark?" the captain slurred.
    Billy pointed at the menacing fin in the water.
    "That little guppy," the captain said, "it's not more than a three feet long. I've seen goldfish bigger than that."
    "What do we do?" Billy said not quite convinced the shark wouldn't leap out of the water and drag him down into the dark watery depths.
    "Nothin'," the captain said, "but if you want to poke it with a stick, be my guest." And with that the two clambered down below again.
    Little Billy stared in fascination as the shark circled through the water with its a gentle gliding motion. It was almost like an airplane or an oddly shaped kite. In spite of the creatures apparent grace and tranquility, Billy could not shake the fact that it was a shark, the terror of the deep and menace to all who dare enter it's realm.

    He grabbed a mooring pole which was long and light and when the shark skimmed alongside the boat he gave the agile and flowing beast a light prodding with the tip of the pole. He had scarcely grazed the rough skin of that viscous creature before it darted away into the clear, cold depths never to return.