I got bite by a shark and it was my fault
- conchtoochartersll
- Mar 28
- 4 min read
I Got Bit by a Shark—and It Was My Fault
By the guy who stuck his hand in a lemon shark’s mouth on his mom’s birthday
This happened back in April 2022. It was my mom’s birthday, and she had this awesome houseboat at the time. Her idea of a good time? Taking it out to the sandbar at Harbor Key to grill, chill, and—of course—I had to do a little shark fishing. My girlfriend and I were planning to meet her out there in my Action Craft.
Before the trip, we made a pit stop at West Marine to grab hooks. I remember standing there debating: spend big on a fancy 3-pack of circle hooks for $40, or grab a big ol’ pack of classic J hooks for half the price. My girlfriend, being the logical one, said to go with the J hooks. But I didn’t listen. I splurged on the circle hooks—and yes, she still reminds me of that to this day.
Once we got out there, the plan went perfectly. We’ve been trolling that channel for barracudas since we were kids, and sure enough, they were biting. We caught a bunch and tied the Action Craft up to the houseboat. I cut up some fresh barracuda, tossed a chunk out, and we started shark fishing off the back of the boat. The dinghy in that photo up above? It was tied behind us, bobbing around in the current while we waited.
Pretty quickly, we hooked a solid lemon shark. Got it to the boat—great fight—and he snapped the line right before we could get the hook back. One hook gone. No big deal.
Shark #2: another lemon, a little smaller. This time I used my vice grips and got the hook out clean. One hook left. We were riding high.
Then came the big one. Third shark of the day, and by far the biggest lemon shark I’ve ever fought. He gave us a serious run but we eventually worked him to the boat. At that point, he was worn out—I even had him flipped over, belly up, head resting against the boat. The fight was over.
And then I dropped the vice grips.
For whatever reason—maybe adrenaline, maybe overconfidence, maybe just plain bad judgment—I decided, “Eh, I’ll just use my hand.” I figured the shark was tired, barely hooked, and in a perfect position. I reached in to grab the hook.
Big mistake.
That shark barely moved—just turned his head a little—and my hand was in his mouth. He bit down one time, quick and clean. It felt like butter. Thankfully, he let go immediately and didn’t thrash, or it could’ve been a lot worse.
I let go of the leader, the shark took off, and the rod bent hard again. My girlfriend, totally panicking, grabbed the knife and cut the line. I looked down at my red glove, peeled it off, and… yeah. Blood. Everywhere.
Adrenaline was still pumping so it didn’t hurt much—it just burned—but seeing all that blood definitely freaked me out. My mom, being the rockstar she is, grabbed my girlfriend’s shirt, packed it with ice, and wrapped my hand as tight as she could. She told me not to take it off until I got to the hospital.
We untied from the houseboat, my girlfriend pulled the anchor, and we raced back in. We made it to the dock just in time to hit urgent care before they closed.
Apparently, it’s not every day someone walks into urgent care with a fresh shark bite. I was definitely the main character in there that night. The staff was surprisingly chill. They tested my hand for tendon damage—made me wiggle fingers and move everything around. That’s when the real pain kicked in. If you’ve ever been bitten by a shark, you’ll know: moving your hand afterward is no
party.
Luckily, there wasn’t any serious damage. They numbed me up (after a not-so-sympathetic nurse jabbed me with Novocaine and said, “This is why women don’t let men give birth”), gave me a tetanus shot, and stitched me up with about 10 stitches total.
After that, we didn’t go home—we went right back out to the houseboat. My mom had been freaking out and we wanted to show her I was okay. Which I was. Just a little stitched up, slightly humbled, and very lucky.
That shark did exactly what a shark’s supposed to do when someone sticks their hand in its mouth. I don’t blame him one bit. I blame me—for not using pliers, not listening to my girlfriend, and thinking I could outsmart a fish with 300 million years of evolutionary success.
The wildest part? This wasn’t even my first shark bite. When I was around 10, I was snorkeling at a sandbar with my brothers, and a baby nurse shark latched onto my chest. I still have the scar to prove it. So yeah, I’ve been bit by two sharks in my life.
And I still love shark fishing.
Would I do that exact move again? Absolutely not.
Would I go shark fishing again tomorrow? 100%.
There are safe ways to do this stuff—and I usually follow them. Since that day, I’ve taken out countless shark fishing charters. We’ve had some epic battles and made even better memories, all without incident. There are safe, smart ways to catch and release sharks, and that’s how we do it every time now. That one bite just gave me a reminder I’ll never forget—and a story that’ll last forever.
-Captain Joel Cruz, Conch Too Charters
Owner & Operator
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