I’ve always had a fascination/repulsion with sea creatures because they’re so damn creepy. Whales have always given me the heebies, nessie goes without in saying. In the ‘90s it was manatees. Natural bodies of water are horrifying (and I’m not crazy about pools, either).
In fact, I’m still shell-shocked from last year’s New York Times horror show in the form of a book review, “The Deep: The Extraordinary Creatures of the Abyss” accompanied by photos of grotesque life forms lurking at bottom of who knows where.
Even pre-Steve Irwin demise, stingrays didn’t sit well with me. Not because of the stinging but because of their little mouths. And they can be really freaking huge. I almost crapped myself when I heard the story about the 75-pound spotted eagle ray leaping out of the water, knocking over a woman on a boat and killing her (technically, it was a subsequent knock on the head that did her in).
Can you imagine death by a jumping stingray? The last thing you ever see being an insane wet, fleshy diamond-shaped blob flying at your face. Holy shit. That’s very worrisome, and reason enough to stay far away from Florida. I was about to say that perhaps colder waters are safer, but damn, what about narwhals?!