For a couple of seconds, I bucked and danced at the end of my line. I was like a rag doll shaken by a giant.

Was it a great white shark, twisting and turning me from side to side, like a bulldog with a rat in its jaws?

I couldn't see what was happening. It was dark, and air bubbles kept exploding around my face mask.

Don't panic! I told myself. Don't panic!

I tried to think it through. I didn't feel razor-sharp teeth cutting through my wet suit. So it wasn't a shark.

Don't panic. Don't panic.

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Excerpted from Absolute Pressure by Sigmund Brouwer
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