"Along with a couple surgeons and an anesthesiologist, my friend, Bob, came upon a large school of silk snapper about 30 miles west of Coiba Island off Panama. The snapper had been attracted to the surface by a spawning aggregation of congrejos (tiny red crabs the size of a quarter). Feeding on the silk snappers were cuberas from 30 to perhaps 120 pounds. Also attracted: sharks. Bob told me that in many years of fishing all over the northern hemisphere, he'd never seen so many large sharks in one place. At any moment, they could see 10 to 20 sharks from 10 to 15 or more feet. One, which they felt had to be a great white, appeared to be 25 feet long (longer than either of the two Mako center consoles from which the group fished). The shark soon disappeared. After a morning of snapper fishing, the two boats drifted quietly as the men ate lunch. Suddenly, the bow of one Mako reared up and started to shake. Bob grabbed the console rail and caught his buddy, sliding aft. When they turned around, they were staring at the head of a giant white shark — which had its mouth around two 55-hp Johnson outboards! Meanwhile, the guide grabbed the console with one hand and with the other, cranked the engines. Fortunately both fired up. He threw them into gear, and clouds of meat, cartilage, teeth and blood shot all over boat, anglers and the water. The boat surged up and forward, then stopped immediately. They discovered one engine mangled but the other still operating, if not very well. As anglers and guide cleaned blood and shark flesh from themselves, they looked around and spotted the shark sinking slowly, quivering, into the clear, deep-blue depths amidst a cloud of red. I've known the author of this account for some time and believe it is quite possibly true."
— The late Dr. Ray McAllister, formerly with the Department of Ocean Engineering, Florida Atlantic University, Boca Raton.