Better Late Than Never...RIP Croc Hunter...

Poor Bastard.
No one has a greater fear of stingrays than I.
Growing up, and once I was able to let go of my crippling fear of sharks by convincing myself the water was too shallow, warm, crowded, whathaveyou for sharks to be an issue...we swam care-free in the Gulf of Mexico. That is, until the Stingrays came. I swear, one day, not a creature save an conch or two and then WHAM! Stingrays. EVERYWHERE! I wish I could find a picture of what Stingray spawning looks like from above the water...but basically, picture an expanse of blue with brown blotches all over the place. Essentially, it looks like the ocean floor, except the blotches move. And from in the water, you can't really see them until they're either right next to you, or you've stepped on one and gotten a leg full of Hell on Earth. After watching my little brother (a toddler then) almost get stung only to be scooped up and rushed to shore by brother-the-elder, my career in the Gulf of Mexico and any other free-existing water ended.

But, in honor of Mr. Irwin and the dumbasses In Australia and their misguided anger at otherwise beautiful and docile animals...

I give you
An Odd Fishing Trip or Drunk Sea Captain Horrifies Everyone on Board with His Terrible Wrath.

Many years ago we were fishing off the coast of Florida in the Gulf. It had been storming the night before and the water was pretty churned up. So, really fishing was useless.
It was one of these fishing/shelling boat for hire tours where they take you around to little islands around Marco where ostensibly you can find the best shells (this was in the days before the laws against taking living things from the water came to be)...and if you don't feel like doing that, then you can stay on the boat and fish.

Ok, so, while I was on one of the islands with my mom and grandmother, my brothers, and grandfather were on the boat. My little brother managed to hook a small (young) stingray...pretty common for the condition of the water and as the "captain" was removing the hook (Uh, why in the fuck didn't he just cut the damn line? Answer in a minute) the little fucker stabbed the guy in the hand.
Now, for those not familiar with the pain of a stingray wound, (nor am I, but it's the stuff of urban legend down there) apparently, it really fucking hurts and usually requires a trip to the hospital for an even more painful shot that neutralizes the venom. Well, our intrepid and apparently drunk (answer to the previous hook question) captain decided that he would instead anchor the boat and disappear into the bracket of one of the islands and scream his ass off and drink some more.
I get back to the boat and hear the story.
Captain is back, says
"Yeah, I'm allergic to the little bastards too",
and we return to fishing.
I hook a larger stingray. When I say larger, and no, I'm not making this up, it's wingspan was about a foot and a half to 2 feet across. The captain grabs the line, and with one of those hook things used to grab a line when it's attached to a large fish and you don't want your hand near it's mouth), tosses the stingray by the line into the air, and proceeds to kill the shit out of it by hacking away at it with said hook. He'd stab it, throw it back up in the air and as it came down swing at it like a fucking baseball. Screaming. Swearing.
Basically exacting drunken revenge on the entire species.
It was all very awkward.

But, we managed to find some pretty nice shells.