The tooth becomes a monkey on my back

     I was so excited to find the mako teeth on my first visit to the Peace River and I immediately planned to return the following week.  I hadn't fully developed my river habit yet so at the time, going back only 7 days later seemed excessive.  I sent the photo of the makos to the club president and he passed them around.  A club member named Dave arranged to meet me at the Peace River Campground boat ramp and check out this spot I had stumbled upon.
     I had gotten so cold on my first visit that I knew I had to come up with a system for staying warm.

     I have long referred to my 14' fishing kayak as "the barge" so now I put it to good use, loading it with all manner of sweat shirts, leggings, snacks and drinks, hand warmers, etc.  I also took an old pair of wool socks to wear with my tennis shoes in the water.
     When Dave saw my setup, he was the first of many to tease me about how much crap I lugged along every time but for me, comfort is key.  I have trouble maintaining body heat and when I get too cold, the show's over.
     We started paddling and boy, was I fired up!  But what a LONG paddle, ugh!  For someone who spends a fair amount of time in a kayak, I truly dislike paddling which seems ridiculous.  I have even paddled the 7 miles from Pine Island to Cayo Costa State Park and the return trip a few days later, but I bitched the entire time.
     Finally we reached the location where I found the makos and I got my first lesson in how difficult it can be to relocate your honey hole.  I had noted landmarks but with the water level going down every day, it already looked very different from the previous week.
     Dave and I started digging...and digging...and digging.  I had to keep getting out to get the feeling back in my feet and, much to my embarrassed horror, we found nothing; not so unusual for an amateur like me, but almost unheard of for a pro like Dave.  I kept apologizing for dragging him out there.
     Mid afternoon he called it and went back to his kayak to load up.  I slowly worked my way back to the shore, scooping a shovel of gravel here and there.  A few feet before I stepped out of the water, I looked in my screen and saw an amazing thing.

     I only found one thing that day but it was a good thing to find: a large, shiny meg with good serrations.  Marring its perfection is a shovel ding on one side but it's hard to say if it was my shovel or not.  This one tooth may have been scooped up any number of times and fallen back off the shovel into the water before I finally captured it; it was certainly close to the surface of the gravel.

     I held that tooth in my hand on the long drive home and dreamed about it all night.

     I was addicted.