MrRING
Android Futureman
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- Aug 7, 2002
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A book about the event:
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/t...yhistory/102-9934883-2041758?v=glance&s=books
Fortunately, there is a great on-line resource that details the story:
http://www.njhm.com/matawanmaneater.htm#VII
And an excert:
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/t...yhistory/102-9934883-2041758?v=glance&s=books
In July 1916, a time of record-setting heat and a raging polio epidemic, beachgoers along the New Jersey shore confronted a greater terror still: lurking in the water swam a shark, or perhaps several sharks, that had apparently developed a taste for human flesh. Within less than two weeks, the offending fish killed four swimmers and badly injured another, setting off a wave of panic that kept visitors well out of the water and threatened the state's thriving tourist economy.
Officials were quick to react. President Woodrow Wilson, himself from New Jersey, sought and received $5,000 from Congress to eradicate the villain. Unsure of which species was to blame, commercial fishermen and state police alike destroyed every shark they encountered, while some conspiracy-minded journalists hinted that the attacks had somehow been triggered by German U-boats plying the waters off New Jersey.
Those strange events of 1916 are not much remembered today, except, perhaps, by fans of Peter Benchley's novel Jaws, whose origin lies in the attacks. Richard Fernicola revives the incident with this thoroughgoing investigation, which offers solid information on the natural history and behavior of the many shark species that populate the Atlantic, and which hazards educated guesses as to which kind of shark did the fatal mischief--and why. --Gregory McNamee
Fortunately, there is a great on-line resource that details the story:
http://www.njhm.com/matawanmaneater.htm#VII
And an excert:
JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT IT WAS SAFE TO GO BACK IN THE WATER
The account of these two attacks must have been racing through Captain Cottrell's mind as he stared at the approximately ten-foot shark swimming quickly up the Matawan Creek. He called to two workmen on the bridge, pointing out the shark, then telephoned downtown Keyport to warn the bathers in the Raritan Bay that a shark was in the area. He next followed the creek upstream on foot racing to Matawan to warn the people there. However, many townspeople ignored the warning thinking the Captain had fell victim to the shark hysteria sweeping the State. After all, how could a ten foot shark be in the shallow Matawan Creek, no more than forty feet across at its widest?
About one and half miles upstream from where Captain Cottrell first spotted the shark, Lester Stillwell and four of his friends prepared to go swimming in the creek at the old Wyckoff Dock. Stillwell, only twelve years old, had been given the afternoon off at the Anderson Saw Mill where he worked with his father, because of the almost unbearable heat. If they had heard the shark warnings, they had decided to ignore them just as had most of Matawan. They had been swimming only a short time when one of the boys, Charles Van Brunt, saw a big black fish streak past him towards the floating Stillwell. He could see the white stomach and gleaming teeth as it rolled in the water while closing its jaws around the slim body of Stillwell. Stillwell's scream was cut short as he was dragged below the surface leaving only a spreading red pool in his wake. Van Brunt and the other boys exited the creek as quickly as possible and ran up the steep dirt road to Main Street for help. As the terrified boys related their story to the shocked townspeople, a crowd rushed to the creek to attempt a rescue.
Watson Stanley Fisher heard the news at the dry cleaning and tailor shop he owned and operated nearby. Stanley, as everyone called him, was a popular and respected twenty-four year-old young man. Many in Matawan were surprised when this "gentle giant" (he stood over six feet tall and weighed over two hundred pounds) decided to become a storeowner, rather than follow in his retired ship's captain father's footsteps. Fisher immediately closed the shop and headed for the creek. Meeting up with his friends, George Burlew and Arthur Smith, Fisher took command or the rescue effort on land, while Captain Cottrell, who by now had commandeered a motor boat, directed it from the water. Twenty years later, George Burlew would relate what happened next to the famous journalist and adventurer, Floyd Gibbons:
"We borrowed a couple of pairs of tights and then proceeded to stretch a wire (net) across the creek so the tide wouldn't take the body out. The shark (also) couldn't get out past the wire, but somehow we never thought of that."
For the next half-hour, the trio dove continuously for the victim's body, while others in boats used hooks and poles. Just as Arthur Smith was about to give up search and exit the water, he felt something brush past his body and realized he was bleeding. Suddenly there was an awful scream from the far side of the creek where Fisher had been searching. When they looked, Fisher was gone, but quickly reappeared from below the water. George Burlew continued his story:
"He fought the fish like a madman, striking and kicking it with all his might. Three or four times during the struggle the shark pulled him under, but each time he managed to get back to the surface. He seemed to holding his own, but at best, it was an uneven battle. The shark was at home in the water - and Stanley wasn't."
Finally, Fisher broke free and the man-eater retreated somewhere in the creek. He managed to struggle into waist deep water across from the dock where he started his search. A motor boat quickly reached where he was and dragged him back across the creek. Several women fainted, and many other men and women fought to remain upright as they witnessed the horrible wounds caused by the shark on the lower extremities of Stanley Fisher. From his groin to his to his kneecap, the flesh was missing from his right leg. While a tourniquet was applied to slow the bleeding, a local physician, Dr. Reynolds was sent for. After treating his patient as best he could, the doctor transported him to the Matawan Railroad Station for the trip to Memorial Hospital in Long Branch.
Although Fisher was in agonizing pain, he fought to remain conscience. Dr. Reynolds tried to convince his patient to allow himself to succumb to "blissful sleep," but Fisher wanted to tell his story first. As Dr. Reynolds related to the Newark Evening News the next day:
"He seemed to think it was his duty to recover the body, even though his own life was at stake. Later when I was at his bedside with the surgeons at the hospital he told me he had the body of Lester under his arms when the shark attacked."
Fisher told Reynolds, "I knew it was all up with me when I felt his grip on my thigh. It was an awful feeling. I can't explain it. Anyhow, I did my duty." At 7:30pm, Watson Stanley Fisher's pain was finally over. He died from the loss of blood and shock as he was being wheeled into the operating room.
Having already claimed two victims in less than an hour, the Matawan shark was not yet finished. Shortly after Fisher had been attacked, four teenage boys from Cliffwood, just across the creek from Keyport, were swimming just a half-mile downstream from the Wyckoff Dock. Despite all the activity that had to going on around them, the boys were unaware of the shark presence in the creek. They were in the water about fifteen minutes when someone spotted them and shouted for them to get out of the water. Just as the last and youngest among them, fourteen year-old Joseph Dunn, was hurriedly exiting the water, he felt something grasp his right leg. "I felt my leg going down the shark's throat," he related later. "I believe it would have swallowed me."
Joseph Dunn's older brother Michael and the other boys ran back to the water's edge to help. They clutched the boy's arms and began a terrible tug-of-war with the shark. It cost Joseph some flesh, but eventually the shark released his prey and continued downstream. Three victims in one day seemed to be enough for it. Joseph was rushed by auto to St. Peter's Hospital in New Brunswick. The newspapers reported that although the boy's life would almost definitely be saved, his leg would not. Luckily, Joseph never read the papers. It took a talented surgeon, and two months of recovery, but when he was released from the hospital he walked out unaided and on two legs.