Sharks are myopic and only see white or shiny objects

1942 Navy Balsa Life Float/Raft
...

Every day at five, astonishingly punctual, the sharks arrived. Then there was a banquet around the raft. Huge fish would jump out of the water and, a few moments later, resurface in pieces.

 The sharks, crazed, would silently rush up to the bloody surface.

So far, they hadn't cried to smash the raft, but they were attracted to it because of its white color. Everyone knows that sharks are more likely to attack things that are white.

Sharks are myopic and only see white or shiny objects. Then I remembered another of the instructor's recommendations: "Hide all shiny things so as not to draw the sharks' attention."

To a hungry sailor alone at sea, gulls are a message of hope. Ordinarily, a flock of sea gulls will accompany a ship out of port, but only op to the second day of the voyage.

Seven sea gulls over the raft meant land was nearby.  If I had had the strength, I would have started to row.

But I was too weak. I could barely stay on my feet for a few seconds at a time.

Convinced that I was less than two days from land, I drank a little more sea water from the palm of my hand and again lay down at the side of the raft, face upward so the sun wouldn't burn my lungs.

I didn't cover my face with my shirt because I wanted to go on looking at the sea gulls, which were flying slowly, swooping down at an acute angle to the sea.

It was one o'clock in the afternoon on the fifth day. I don't know when it arrived.

I was lying down in the raft, around five in the afternoon, preparing to lower myself into the middle before the sharks came.

Then I saw a small sea gull, about the size of my hand, fly in circles above the raft and land on the end opposite me. My mouth filled with icy saliva. I didn't have anything to capture that sea gull with.

No instrument except my hands and my cunning, ,which was sharpened by hunger. The other gulls had disappeared. Only this little one remained, brown, with shiny feathers, hopping around on the gunwale.

I kept absolutely still. I thought I felt, against my shoulder, the sharp fin of the punctual shark, who would have arrived at five o'clock. But I decided to take a risk.

I didn't dare look at the sea gull, so as not to scare it off by not moving head.

I watched it fly very low over my body. I saw it take to the air and disappear into the sky. But I didn't lose hope.

I was hungry and I knew that if I remained absolutely still the sea gull would come within reach of my hand. I waited more than half an hour, I think.

It came and went several times. Ar one point I felt a fin brush past my head as a shark tore a fish to pieces. But I was more hungry than frightened.

The sea gull jumped around on the edge of the raft.

It was twilight on my fifth day at sea: five days without eating.

Despite my emotion, despite my heart pounding in my chest, I kept completely still, like a dead man, while I waited for the sea gull to come closer.

I was stretched out on my back at the side of the raft with my hands on my thighs.

I'm sure that for half an hour I didn't dare to blink. The sky brightened and irritated my eyes, but I didn't close them at that tense moment.

The sea gull pecked at my shoes. After another long, intense half hour had passed I felt the sea gull sit on my leg. It pecked softly at my pants.

I kept perfectly still when it gave me a sharp, dry peck on the knee, though I could have leaped into the air from the pain of the knee wound.

But I endured it.

Then the sea gull wandered to my right thigh, five or six centimeters from my hand. I stopped breathing and, desperately tense, began imperceptibly to slide my hand toward it...

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