When I was 13 years old, I found myself on a surfboard in the water, on a day devoid of any waves. The ocean was calm, resembling a smooth sheet of glass. It was during this serene moment that my attention was drawn to a shark fin protruding about three inches above the surface, approximately fifteen feet away, moving parallel to my position. The shark it belonged to was sluggishly gliding along at a leisurely pace of around a tenth of a mile per hour. Intrigued, I began paddling towards it. At first glance, the shark didn’t appear to be large enough to pose any threats; it seemed oddly slender. Initially, I could only make out its tail. As I approached, I noticed the distinct brown coloration on its back, as if someone had playfully dabbed white paint onto it. But it was the shark’s eyes that caught my attention first—dark and twice the size of golf balls. It was then that I realized its enormity. Initially assuming it to be a lanky fish, I soon noticed that its chest and belly hung down about three and a half feet below its back. While its back displayed brown hues with streaks of white paint-like markings, its underside was pure white. Its lower jaw dangled about a foot and a half, adorned with what seemed like countless needle-like teeth, brown and measuring around three to four inches in length—formidable enough to easily dismember a human being.

Despite its size, the shark moved with remarkable slowness, exhibiting a docile demeanor. This encounter occurred prior to the release of the movie “Jaws,” so I felt relatively at ease. As I sidled up alongside this majestic creature, we swam parallel to each other, only a foot apart, for about three minutes. For some inexplicable reason, I felt comfortable enough to reach out and gently run my hand over its back, just in front of the fin. In response, the shark suddenly whipped its tail with astonishing speed, creating a burst of water that soared about ten feet into the air before swiftly vanishing.

When I shared this incredible experience, nobody believed me. They dismissed it as an exaggeration and displayed little interest. However, I had an uncle named Jerry Greenberg, an underwater photographer for National Geographic, who unequivocally confirmed that it was a juvenile Great White shark—a creature that could have easily ended my life right then and there.

In my youthful ignorance, I remained blissfully unafraid.

Years later, when I was 17, I visited the LA Zoo. It happened to be a rainy day, resulting in a sparse crowd—only my girlfriend and me. As we strolled through the zoo, we stumbled upon a black panther, restlessly pacing back and forth within its enclosure.

According to the sign, the panther had been captured just two months prior in an African country whose name escapes my memory. I gazed into its eyes and, inexplicably, felt a sense of assurance, as though I could lean forward and reach into its cage without consequence. And so, I did just that. The panther initiated contact by rubbing its face against my hand as it continued its pacing. It then turned and repeated the gesture on the other side. This remarkable interaction persisted for approximately ten minutes until a zoo employee, filled with utter disbelief, intervened and promptly escorted us off the premises.

Yes, I know—I acted like a fool. But I’m grateful for those daring moments because how many people can claim to have caressed a Great White shark and encountered a wild panther up close? I may be labeled an idiot, but I’m glad I seized those opportunities and embraced those extraordinary experiences.