I was living in coastal Maine when the film came out -- spent a lot of time snorkling off the beaches of Wells, Maine.

About the only sharks that there was a likelihood of running in to were dogfish. Sand sharks. All you had to do is bop them in the nose and they'd turn tail. Not that I encountered many.

The scary thing was that, when I'd leave the water, mask on my head and make my finned way across the beach, I'd have a bunch of kids -- and adults -- coming up to me and asking, "What's out there?" They'd never seen a sculpin or a flounder or fairy shrimp or a skate or a column of rockweed swaying in the tide. They'd only recognize a lobster if it were red. Had no idea what the barnacles, limpets, periwinkles, etc. cluttering the rocks were -- or which were edible.

I've always been much more, uh, "hesitant" about entering fresh water lakes, ponds and rivers. Give me salt any day. Geeze, things LURK in fresh water. And you can't see your feet! (Or anything else.) I only do mountain rivers and streams where the water is moving and I can see my feet.

Linn