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Donavan Clarke (left) and Clinton Bailey, of Old Harbour Bay, St Catherine, show Hospitality Jamaica the shark that Bailey caught late last year.

photos by Paul Williams - Donavan Broomfield grimaces as he cuts off the head of a young shark at Old Harbour Bay, St Catherine, late last year.

Around Ja with Paul H

That Old Harbour shark

Paul H. Williams, Hospitality Jamaica Writer

Late last year, my son Matthew and I visited Old Harbour fishing village to walk and chat. The conversation topics ranged from the cays off the coast of St Catherine to crabs, the movements of the tide, swash and backwash, among others.

Then we happened upon a young shark. Our interest was immediately piqued as we were coming face to face for the time with this notorious creature whose reputation precedes it. But this one was lying on its side dead. It had got entangled in a fisherman's net.

I asked some bystanders whom the silver-grey lifeless predator belonged to and were introduced to fisherman Clinton Bailey, who obliged to pose for Hospitality Jamaica with his unlikely catch. Soon, a friend of his, Donovan Broomfield, came along to collect it. He was going to cut it up for sale.

TASTE OF SHARK

"Wow!" I said. I had never eaten shark meat. I was told by the bystanders that it was tasty, and so we followed Donovan with the 60lb baby slung over his shoulder. Some mongrel dogs also joined the entourage.

When we reached our destination, people gathered to look at the shark. A Rastaman told me it could taste like saltfish if it should go through the process of corning. He and Donovan explained how the shark meat was prepared generally, and I listened studiously. But Matthew was not so keen on me getting the shark meat claiming that it was "unclean", mentioning something from the Bible, and what somebody had said. So much for fairy tales was my attitude.

Donovan left to attend to other matters, and as we waited in the sun, my wanting to eat the shark was now a vigorous debate. After running out of patience, I went to fetch Donovan, who came with a butcher's knife. Shark meat, shark meat, I sang silently with glee.

The fins were the first to go. I heard they were quite expensive as they contain aphrodisiac properties. I requested same and got them. We watched as Donovan struggled to remove the head. But I was shocked when he decided to discarded it after all his troubles. I couldn't bear to see the waste so the head too went into my bag. Matthew was now at his wit's end.

After the shark was nicely cut up, I bought a tender-looking piece, and added it to the fins and the head, and off we went. And one of us was not so pleased.

At home, after announcing online and over the phone that I was having shark meat for dinner, I followed the steps as told by the Rastaman and Donovan, but I was a bit concerned as I was entering into uncharted waters. The aroma from the pot was not bad, nor was the taste. I liked it.

If only Matthew knew what he had missed, but I waited eagerly for the symptoms of food poisoning. I have now run out of patience, and have moved on. As for the shark's head, it had become a nice pot of soup. The fins? They are well preserved in a drawer, waiting for the right time.