shark week. but actually.

In all honesty, until about 2 years ago, I didn't care about Shark Week. Sharks were fish, and fish were all the same. See one, ya see em all. Plus I saw Jaws. But then in 2009, two days before I graduated high school, I met this curly headed boy who loves marine biology and would go on to get me to watch sharky shows with him and make me care ever so slightly that sharks were pretty legit. And then yesterday came.

We started our day at the really fantastic time of 4:00 am. The company we dove with sent a van after us, so we quietly and in that really early morning haze loaded up and rode 2 long hours out of Cape Town to Gansbaai. The sun was rising in pinks and oranges over the mountains and ocean as we unloaded, which always makes the sky super gorgeous, which always makes me feel better.

 

They gave us breakfast and a quick debrief from Captain Gerald, and we loaded our little boat. By 8 am we were 20 miles into the South Atlantic, rocking and being thrown about by huge, gorgeous waves.

Chum

We headed first for the infamous Shark Alley, but our ever wise captain knew another point further south that promised lots of sharks. (Turns out he's brilliant, because the other boats that stayed didn't see a single shark all morning.) We dropped anchor and began the chumming. To attract sharks, they take huge tuna fish (when they told me this, I pictured StarKist. Wrong.) and cut them up and mix them with fish oil and sea water. They pour this along the side of the boat, creating a chum trail that if a shark swims through, he/she will catch the scent of a snack and follow along. The deck hands or crew or whatever you'd like to call them mixed the chum in a huge black bucket with a shovel for cutting up the fish inside. It may or may not have been one of the grossest things I've seen in a very long time. And I won't even get into the smell.
But it worked, as once we'd been anchored for 5 or so minutes, our first shark swam right up! We all oohed and ahhed and Gerald told the first 5 of us divers to get on with it, so we fumbled our way into big black wet suits and booties. (Just in case you were wondering, wet suits are not nearly as cool and comfortable as TV surfers make them look.) They gave us goggles and a sash of weights to sink us further down and loaded us into a cage. The cage was already hanging over the boat with about a foot and a half secured above water. Our instructions were to hold on to the top, wait for the signal (which was a very loud "LEFT, LEFT, DOWN!"), and then hold our breath and reach down into the cage for a handle bar. This bar was especially important, as it was the only place to hang on inside the cage. Apparently fingers are regularly lost by geniuses who decide to hold on to the cage itself. Visibility was very low yesterday morning, about 1 meter (and no, I don't know the meter/foot conversion, but I think it's around 3 feet?), so we had to put our faces right up against the cage, practically reaching out with our noses or we wouldn't be able to see. As we waited for the sharks, we did a practice dive, which made me more nervous as anyone who's seen me in a pool knows being in the water does not come naturally to me, as much as I wish it did. I couldn't hold my breath a long time, I felt like the cage was too far into the water, and it was a cool 10.5° Celsius. I did realize, however, that because I was next to last into the cage, the hatch that let us in was above me, so if I needed to flee the scene, it would be an easy escape. Don't ask me why, but this made me feel much better as we waited for the first dive.

Suited Up

Casting out Tuna Heads

In the Cage
(Siri is first from left with camera in hand; I'm second from left)

The first round down, I didn't see anything but fish fleeing the scene. But the second time, I pressed my face out as far as it would go and saw right against my left a huge great white shark turning away. As it moved, it's tail fin slammed into our cage, jarring us all, and we came up giggling and squealing like little kids. We stayed in the cage for about 20 minutes, saw another shark and a lot of shadows, and climbed back out so the other 15 people on the boat could have their turns.

The wind was harsh off the water, and I quickly lost feeling in my baby toes, but we climbed onto the boat's small upper deck and watched for more sharks. It was so much easier to see from the boat! We watched as the crew threw out huge tuna heads and lured the sharks in, tracking their shadows until they surfaced and bit at the bait. They were gorgeous in a very scary kind of way. Their long gray bodies were so smooth and slick, usually with scars on the dorsal fin and face. Their little mouths looked like cartoon mouths when they were shut, smiling like the cute guys on Finding Nemo, and looked like the movie poster for Jaws when they opened up to bite at the tuna.

The Dive Team

Baby Shark in the Flesh

Daddy Shark

We saw a total of 6 sharks, which was apparently a big deal as the usual dive averages 2-3 sharks, and most of the boats out didn't see any at all. Our largest was a female that was 3.5 meters long, also apparently a big deal. All the sharks were great whites, as the Atlantic is too cold to support any other kind, and they were all juvenile sharks (under 15 years old), as within the last 10 years adult sharks have completely stopped coming to the area (presumably because of overfishing and water pollution, but no one's 100% sure why).
We got back to shore around 11:30 and scarfed down some hot rice and vegetable soup to warm us up. We got our official shark diver certification certificates and headed back to Cape Town. 

Southern Right Whale

On the way, our driver took us on a surprise little adventure to Hermanus, where the whale population is remarkable. We were able to stand on shore and see 3 southern right whales, 2 of which being a mother with her calf! We watched them for awhile and then continued back home with tuna on our clothes, salt in our hair, 10 fingers, 10 toes, cameras full of pictures, and memories of our very own shark week to last a lifetime.

Mama and Calf