The hunting of the shark was an annual excursion,
It was a Rite of passage ceremony for thirteen year old boys.

30 of us left that early June morning,
the skies were cloudless, the waters calm.
But only 17 of us returned, 17 of us witnessed
our friends being mauled by tiger sharks,
they rammed our small fishing boats.
17 of us will never forget that day

We went without harpoon or gun ,
we went with just some home made knives,
fresh water and sheer nerve.
We returned with no shark ,
we returned with just the wounded and the brave.

Life abandoned the 13,
we abandoned the 13 (we had to)
but, will they always be boys ?