Diving with Sharks: Up Close With Vulnerability
FIJI
The blue-green water greeted me like a mother kneeling to her child, pulling me into her full-bodied embrace. I entered the ocean with the traditional back roll, two fingers on my mask, regulator cradled in my palm and a voluptuous breath that could serve as initial insurance. I watched the bubbles scurry to the surface, knowing I too would soon arrive there. The sunlight orientated me to the line that divided the elements. Dive master Bill (aka Maui) nudged me into this dive experience, as he said, ‘sometimes, it’s best not to think about things like this, just do it’. Seeing my first shark in Tuvalu totally by fluke seemed like one shark too many, yet somehow, I signed up to dive with bull sharks - and the boat was leaving in less than an hour!
While their reputation (and Hollywood’s portrayal of Jaws) obviously doesn’t lure the mainstream masses, I was open to seeing and learning a bit about their nature.
I think I’m motivated into these moments by feeling and experiencing life’s granularity and grandeur, juxtaposing and appreciating the wonders within both the micro and macro. Too often, the power play between what is and isn’t in our circle of influence seems malleable, when more often than not, that mirage makes mockery of us all.
The islands of Fiji are heterogeneous with respect to their size, shape, sand and special offerings. Here, they specialize in shark dives and research. Bummed that I also missed the manta rays here and the whales in Tonga, I decided to say yes to this invitation since I was nestled here for a few days at the tail end of my tour through Oceania. Bill spoke to me only briefly, his eyes kind and genuine, his veins and arms looked like a diver’s and something about his demeanour earned my full faith. What is it that makes us totally trust someone - time and need, trial and error, tests and tribulation, or just that gut feeling? Perhaps it’s also what we offer pilots, physicians, priests, maybe our hair dressers and others to whom we seek their skills, solace or support. Whatever the formula for having that fulsome feeling, Bill, then Camilla, Manu, Jo, Ellie and the rest of the dive team, had mine. After all, they were literally going to stand guard over sharks, and my life.
We did a free descent, adjusting weights and buoyancy as we intentionally sunk to the ocean floor. I was going light this time by only wearing two full length wet suits (yes, in 29 degree waters (judge me if you want to, but hey, at least I was doing it)).
I wouldn’t be real if I didn’t call out my feelings. I was anxious, scared and far from confident. When I woke up in the morning, I ate the sweetest pineapples and guava as delicious accompaniments to a hearty breakfast. I chatted with my family and reassured them that though I had thought about it, I wasn’t going to do anything too crazy. I’d actually planned to pass on the dive excursion … until Bill sat down and swayed me otherwise. So, it was disorienting that suddenly, I was on a boat speeding towards a dive site specifically sanctioned to see sharks! It seemed like my stomach ballooned into my throat and my heart had migrated to my ears.
In ‘real life’, when do we volunteer to be vulnerable? I wondered about what inspires and comforts me in the shedding of my staged and secure self, to wander into the nebulousness of uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure. Of course, at first glance, avoiding this at all costs seems like a reasonable choice, though evidence confirms that this actually nurtures transformation.
So, this seemed like a good enough reason to sign up to scuba with sharks. The play-by-play though was the key, and Bill was a gem, the man who (literally) handheld me through the initial overwhelm. I leaned into his distraction techniques in showcasing me the subtleties of the reef wall, being mindful that I might have missed the minutiae of the Creator’s artistry had we simply gone shark seeing. We were among the last to get set up behind the human made wall, irregular bits of medium sized stones that barely came up to my waist. With my knees on the ocean floor and my left hand holding the irregular edges, Bill moved to his guarding station behind the feeding box, only after giving me another ‘I got you, you’ve got this, it’s all ok’ tap. Signing ‘ok’, I closed my eyes to gather myself. The mind is amazing - one minute it’s mocking me, ‘um hello, you’re a meter away from sharks!’ to the next, soothing me ‘focus on your breath, iiiiiiiiiin and ouuuuuuut, that’s it’. Ironic how on land, I rarely reflect on my respiration, yet here, my ardent focus was on sucking in sweet oxygen off my back and hearing the bubbled release, trying simultaneously to slow the cadence of my rate and rhythm.
Soon enough though, I was eyeing the sharks like a curious toddler. We were fortunate to see four species of sharks: bull shark, lemon shark, reef shark (white and black tip) and nurse shark. The Tawny nurse shark interested not only us newbies, but also the staff, since they too only spotted it twice this year. Approximately two meters long, it had a flat front face, two barbs and small eyes. To me, its defining feature was its long tail which tapered elegantly. When she moved, it was like an aristocrat weaving through the ballroom dance floor, undulating her bottom as if she knew it was an asset. Akin to a damsel commanding an extravagant train of her evening ball gown, all eyes were on her. No doubt, she really stole the show.
This nurse shark seemed subdue from the get go, gentle and polite, easily redirected by the metal polls used by our diving bodyguards whenever sharks got too close for comfort. At one point, she stuck her snout in the feeding station grills, not seeming to realize that she’d get a bit stuck on the bars before getting food.
Some time later, she figured it out. Swiftly, she swerved through and came close, real close.
Her tail swerved past the dive team to my left, brushing close to them as they gently guided her around the other side. Like a bartender asking the patron to sit in front and not alongside the goods, she was gently coaxed (then given some affection) to join the other sharks just a meter or two ahead of us (obviously, please don’t try this yourself).
I was the diver closest to the feeding station, so I could see Manu with his chained gloves load up the tuna heads on a stake, then shoot them skyward. Large red bass would come and try to take the bits they could, then boom, the sharks sniped in!
While the lemon shark was also there with its long body (up to 12 feet), usually it was the bull shark that got the prize. Seeing their teeth usually only when they eat, the main sharks here are these plump and long ones with that stereotypical ‘shark looking’ dorsal fin. Soon, two bull sharks came by to join the feast. Usually they were the main attraction, but not on this dive.
Swarming around were many reef sharks too. Now, they seemed so docile in comparison, so when a few swam within an arm's reach away, I didn’t flinch. Instead, I thought, ‘wow, their skin looks like porous sidewalk cement, where little air bubbles must have settled’. Just as Bill promised, it was all good. I watched the convoys accompanying each of the sharks, usually yellow fish at the top and remoras at their side. The former was there for protection while the latter seemed like guests that overstay their welcome. Though actually, remoras bring symbiosis by getting drag reduction in exchange for vacuuming services for sharks.
Fun fact, in addition to the senses we have, sharks have two others. Since their vision is quite poor, it's the electroreceptors on the lateral lines that help them navigate (self-driving cars could learn from their astute ability to not bump into anyone else accidentally!). Second, the ampullae of Lorenzini on sharks allow for sensing the heart beat of others, directing it to creatures who are weak or freaked (making them easier to prey on - i.e, not the kind of vulnerability we’re going for - and another reason to maintain calm).
Back on the boat, we high-fived and shouted out glee as the boat created a generous wake, perhaps it was well named, the ‘awakening shark dive’.
There’s a certain contentment one can sit in after you’ve done something fearful, especially if you’ve let others have visibility on your vulnerability. While conquering comes less to mind for me than does the continual facing of fear in a piecemeal persistent process, I was lucky to feel that now.
Fortunate also was I to feel the sun drying my hair and the wet suit at my waist. On land, though I missed seeing sharks mate and their love bites during the dive, Lulu shared some details and descriptions of how it’s done:
The dive team was pleased to see how we are, person by person via adventures and initiatives like this, changing the shark stereotype. Organizations like Focused On Nature (FON) and the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) are also raising awareness about sharks and other species who are mis/underrepresented.
One thing I find comfort in seeing so simply underwater are schools, packs, groups. Coming on clusters of fish, sharks, dolphins, seeing them swim together is really magical. Same too for humans, nuh? The pandemic reiterated our need for social connection and within this, are the multiple payouts of inspiration, support, companionship and more.
Perhaps it’s in this collective experience that we can each take comfort when moments of fear or vulnerability bubble, something we can seize as an opportunity, knowing others in our pack will be there to prop us up - and offer props once we’re on the other side.
May we be able to say yes to the meaningful experiences that are born through vulnerability,