Saturday, April 22, 2006
Cape Town, South Africa 4.14.2006
Many years ago, before I first visited Africa, I saw a website advertising shark diving. While I had heard of many different "shark diving experiences", varying from swimming alongside giant whale sharks to observing nurse sharks at close range, this website was very different. It offered what I thought was an insane idea: cage diving with the Great White, the most dangerous shark in the world.
Safaris have never really appealed to me. Viewing "big game" just doesn't seem that exciting. Most game farms are nothing but glorified zoos. Rangers often know exactly where the animals are going to be and the animals behave in very predictable ways. Once you've spent a couple hours watching elephants at a watering hole, visiting additional watering holes with additional elephants gets tiresome. This might sound a bit sacrilegious; but, everything you can see on a reserve you can find in a zoo.
The normally elusive Great White shark is different. There are only a few places in the world where you can regularly see them. South Africa, with one of the highest populations of Great Whites, is exceptional. This past week at Plettenberg Bay, 14 different Great Whites were spotted just off the coast. There are numerous organizations dedicated to monitoring the waters for these sharks and warning surfers in the water when they are sighted. Observing a Great White in the water seemed likely to offer everything that normal safaris don't: the chance to see an extraordinary beast at close quarters in its natural environment. When I got to Cape Town, I looked up the company I had read about many years before on the internet and signed up for a morning in the cage.
I was picked up at 5:30 in the morning from my hostel. It was still dark out as I climbed into a small bus with thirteen other aspirant shark divers. Most were men in their mid to late twenties. Many were going solo, unable to convince friends and family of the merits of such an expedition. After a couple hours drive down the coast, I boarded a double-decker boat and we quickly headed out to sea.
Our boat dropped anchor a few kilometers off the coast in an area known for its resident seals. A large tuna head tied to a rope was thrown off the back of the boat and the water was chummed with fish blood. It wasn't long before we got our first hit. The captain, in mid explanation of the upcoming dive, was interrupted when a three meter Great White surfaced and violently snatched at the bait. It circled the boat a few times while the crew lowered the diving cage into the water; then it silently dropped into the depths.
It was overcast and the water looked especially cold and uninviting. The captain asked for volunteers for the first group. The cage was moderately sized and could fit up to four people. I wanted to go; so I quickly suited up with three other shark enthusiasts. We put on full body wetsuits with hoods as well as booties. Instead of scuba gear, the noise of which can scare sharks away, we used snorkels. The captain tied weight belts to us as we adjusted our masks. As I climbed down the ladder into the small opening at the top of the cage, I quickly scanned the water. I didn't see any sharks but I knew they were waiting just out of sight. My visibility was somewhat limited because of the mask and I felt that one missed step would send me tumbling over the cage into the open water.
I dropped into the cage without any trouble and with adrenaline pumping, submerged. The first thing I noticed was the bottom of the cage. There were huge openings in the cage where we were meant to stand. At one point, these openings were covered by netting to keep your legs from slipping through. The netting under me was far from robust. There were huge holes in it and almost immediately, my left foot slipped through into the oblivion below.
I readjusted my stance and we waited. The water was dark and murky, but visibility was adequate. Huge schools of small fish hovered around the bait and swam in and out of the cages. With the heavy duty wetsuit on, the water wasn't as cold as I expected. We waited patiently as an eerie calm permeated the silent sea. Suddenly, a sharp noise broke the stillness.
"Watch the bait! Watch the bait!" screamed the captain. I could see nothing. Then, like a ghost out of the fog the grinning face of a hungry Great White emerged ferociously. As it made a pass for the bait situated a few meters from the cage, its massive body took shape. Its size was insanely impressive in the water. This wasn't even a large shark; but its girth was remarkable. I was thrilled to be in the water with such a creature. It turned toward us and gave us a passing glance, dropping beneath us and disappearing into the depths beneath.
A few minutes later, a second shark came to investigate the bait. This one stuck around for awhile, disappearing for a few minutes at a time and reappearing at various disconcerting locations all around the cage. At one point, as I was intently watching the bait, I glanced behind me only to be startled by a huge shadow passing just feet from the cage behind us. After about 25 minutes in the water, with our shark fix properly satisfied, the four of us got out, took off the wetsuits, and dried off on the deck of the boat.
The viewing from on the boat was just as good as in the water. Over the course of the next three hours, seven different Great Whites paid us a visit, the biggest at just over four meters. It was definitely an impressive display of what the ocean hid in its depths. As we pulled anchor and headed back to shore, I knew it would definitely give me something to think about next time I paddled out into sea in search of good surf.
Many years ago, before I first visited Africa, I saw a website advertising shark diving. While I had heard of many different "shark diving experiences", varying from swimming alongside giant whale sharks to observing nurse sharks at close range, this website was very different. It offered what I thought was an insane idea: cage diving with the Great White, the most dangerous shark in the world.
Safaris have never really appealed to me. Viewing "big game" just doesn't seem that exciting. Most game farms are nothing but glorified zoos. Rangers often know exactly where the animals are going to be and the animals behave in very predictable ways. Once you've spent a couple hours watching elephants at a watering hole, visiting additional watering holes with additional elephants gets tiresome. This might sound a bit sacrilegious; but, everything you can see on a reserve you can find in a zoo.
The normally elusive Great White shark is different. There are only a few places in the world where you can regularly see them. South Africa, with one of the highest populations of Great Whites, is exceptional. This past week at Plettenberg Bay, 14 different Great Whites were spotted just off the coast. There are numerous organizations dedicated to monitoring the waters for these sharks and warning surfers in the water when they are sighted. Observing a Great White in the water seemed likely to offer everything that normal safaris don't: the chance to see an extraordinary beast at close quarters in its natural environment. When I got to Cape Town, I looked up the company I had read about many years before on the internet and signed up for a morning in the cage.
I was picked up at 5:30 in the morning from my hostel. It was still dark out as I climbed into a small bus with thirteen other aspirant shark divers. Most were men in their mid to late twenties. Many were going solo, unable to convince friends and family of the merits of such an expedition. After a couple hours drive down the coast, I boarded a double-decker boat and we quickly headed out to sea.
Our boat dropped anchor a few kilometers off the coast in an area known for its resident seals. A large tuna head tied to a rope was thrown off the back of the boat and the water was chummed with fish blood. It wasn't long before we got our first hit. The captain, in mid explanation of the upcoming dive, was interrupted when a three meter Great White surfaced and violently snatched at the bait. It circled the boat a few times while the crew lowered the diving cage into the water; then it silently dropped into the depths.
It was overcast and the water looked especially cold and uninviting. The captain asked for volunteers for the first group. The cage was moderately sized and could fit up to four people. I wanted to go; so I quickly suited up with three other shark enthusiasts. We put on full body wetsuits with hoods as well as booties. Instead of scuba gear, the noise of which can scare sharks away, we used snorkels. The captain tied weight belts to us as we adjusted our masks. As I climbed down the ladder into the small opening at the top of the cage, I quickly scanned the water. I didn't see any sharks but I knew they were waiting just out of sight. My visibility was somewhat limited because of the mask and I felt that one missed step would send me tumbling over the cage into the open water.
I dropped into the cage without any trouble and with adrenaline pumping, submerged. The first thing I noticed was the bottom of the cage. There were huge openings in the cage where we were meant to stand. At one point, these openings were covered by netting to keep your legs from slipping through. The netting under me was far from robust. There were huge holes in it and almost immediately, my left foot slipped through into the oblivion below.
I readjusted my stance and we waited. The water was dark and murky, but visibility was adequate. Huge schools of small fish hovered around the bait and swam in and out of the cages. With the heavy duty wetsuit on, the water wasn't as cold as I expected. We waited patiently as an eerie calm permeated the silent sea. Suddenly, a sharp noise broke the stillness.
"Watch the bait! Watch the bait!" screamed the captain. I could see nothing. Then, like a ghost out of the fog the grinning face of a hungry Great White emerged ferociously. As it made a pass for the bait situated a few meters from the cage, its massive body took shape. Its size was insanely impressive in the water. This wasn't even a large shark; but its girth was remarkable. I was thrilled to be in the water with such a creature. It turned toward us and gave us a passing glance, dropping beneath us and disappearing into the depths beneath.
A few minutes later, a second shark came to investigate the bait. This one stuck around for awhile, disappearing for a few minutes at a time and reappearing at various disconcerting locations all around the cage. At one point, as I was intently watching the bait, I glanced behind me only to be startled by a huge shadow passing just feet from the cage behind us. After about 25 minutes in the water, with our shark fix properly satisfied, the four of us got out, took off the wetsuits, and dried off on the deck of the boat.
The viewing from on the boat was just as good as in the water. Over the course of the next three hours, seven different Great Whites paid us a visit, the biggest at just over four meters. It was definitely an impressive display of what the ocean hid in its depths. As we pulled anchor and headed back to shore, I knew it would definitely give me something to think about next time I paddled out into sea in search of good surf.
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