Once upon a time in the Caribbean

A few years ago Sweetie and I took a cruise to the Caribbean. One of the excursions offered was a day of snorkling. We jumped at the chance to see some tropical fishes. I love fishes ('cause they're so delicious). One problem that came up was my moustache. It caused water to leak around my mask. I borrowed a huge floating bar the instructors had with them and, laying across it, I took off my mask to dump out the water, and that was when I heard that horrible cry, "Shark!".
My first instinct was to find Sweetie. I couldn't see her for the crowd. The crowd, by the way, was heading away from me. I figured one of two things was going on.
One, the shark was where all the people were swimming TO.
Two, the shark was behind me and all the people were swimming FROM.
Either way, I felt there was safety in numbers and started swimming towards the crowd all the while being encumbered by the huge floating bar.
It was then something brushed the back of my left leg.
Off I went, at a speed that small children would have been able to stay up on water skis had they a rope on me.
I made straight for the beach and was pulling in the floating bar when I saw it.
The ten foot rope attached to the floating bar.
The shark, a non-man eating, harmless four foot lemon shark was over a hundred feet away from where I was adjusting my mask.
The water, by the way, was still safe to swim in, but it was close. Very close.