Like most travelers, I like to read up on the activities that I have booked – sort of a reassurance that I have made the right decision. The review of my Tahitian activity was somewhat discouraging…”a pathetic exhibition of danger as tourists cling to a rope while 4 overfed, harmless sharks swim back and forth in front of them”. That’s a bit of a concern…hmmm…well too late, already booked. The morning started with us waiting for our boat in a bay th
at was once featured on the cover of Life Magazines Dream Destinations, and rightfully so. A gentle ocean breeze kept us comfortable while we soaked our feet in water as warm as a bathtub. We watched colourful fish playing in the water as our catamaran pulled up to the dock. Sad to leave my newly discovered paradise but excited to fulfill a lifelong dream of swimming with sharks we boarded the boat and set off for adventure.
Twenty minutes after our departure, the engines on our catamaran slowed down and we drifted to a stop. The crew swung into motion dropping anchor and getting out the snorkeling gear for the tourists. The guide gave us a safety ‘briefing’ before we swam with the sharks. 1) don’t touch the sharks 2) don’t urinate in the water – it attracts them 3) always, always, always hold on to the rope. Here are my thoughts on these instructions: 1) did that need to be said? 2) easier said then done when a shark is swimming right at you 3) promise.
Self consciousness aside, I took off my cover-up and patiently waited my turn to plunge into the ocean with the sharks. I glanced over the edge of the boat and was looking to see i
f I could make out the 4 harmless sharks the guidebook described. WTF – there was not 4 sharks but at least 40 of these 5 – 6 feet long sharks swimming around our boat. Our guide was standing at the edge of the catamaran helping everyone off and then reminding them to swim for the rope. I thought back to the guide book description of four lame sharks swimming in front of the rope. I already knew that the number was inaccurate but I was still clinging to this image of me floating peacefully, on my side, dutifully holding onto the rope while the sharks paraded in front of me, on their side. I let out a cry of surprise when I glanced down - you see the sharks were swimming on both sides of the rope. That look on your face right now as you read this, that’s the same look that the guide had on his face when I pointed this out this perceived anomaly to him. He mumbled something about stupid tourist and shoved me into the ocean.
I took swimming lessons for years, I mean I wasn’t Olympic bound or anything but there is no doubt that I can execute a simple freestyle stroke. Doggy paddle - that is the ‘stoke’ that I frantically resorted to in order to get my self rapidly over to the "safety". I reached the rope, held onto it and, like magic, my respiratory rate fell from the 50’s to normal and my heart slipped out of the arrhythmia that I know it was in. All was well now, for you see, I had
hold of the rope. I could safely put my face in the water and watch in awe as majestic grey reef sharks swam around me, some very close, as our guide chummed the water with giant pieces of tuna. No worries as I had the rope and apparently the firm belief that we, the humans, had struck some sort of arrangement with these sharks that they would not nibble on any people holding onto the rope. As our time in the water went on I became bolder, floating in different directions, but always with some part of me firmly secured to the rope.
I could have stayed for hours but it was time to move on, I doggy paddled back to the boat and regaled the tale of our time in the water to my friend Julie who saw no appeal getting into an ocean full of sharks. My adrenaline high wore off abruptly when I was reviewing Julie’s digital pictures and saw my lily white ass floating on top of the water and grey fins all around me. What the hell was I thinking???? The rope!! That is where I placed all of my faith – a piece of twine. It’s a wonder that I am still alive. But I will tell you something, silly or not (and I know it is) – I cannot explain the absurd notion that I felt while I was there, I truly believed, down to my core, that I could not be harmed by sharks as long as I held onto the rope. Wouldn’t it be great if we could apply that same principle to life? If we could walk around, fearless because we carried a rope - it sounds ridiculous but I carry one, just in case.
at was once featured on the cover of Life Magazines Dream Destinations, and rightfully so. A gentle ocean breeze kept us comfortable while we soaked our feet in water as warm as a bathtub. We watched colourful fish playing in the water as our catamaran pulled up to the dock. Sad to leave my newly discovered paradise but excited to fulfill a lifelong dream of swimming with sharks we boarded the boat and set off for adventure.Twenty minutes after our departure, the engines on our catamaran slowed down and we drifted to a stop. The crew swung into motion dropping anchor and getting out the snorkeling gear for the tourists. The guide gave us a safety ‘briefing’ before we swam with the sharks. 1) don’t touch the sharks 2) don’t urinate in the water – it attracts them 3) always, always, always hold on to the rope. Here are my thoughts on these instructions: 1) did that need to be said? 2) easier said then done when a shark is swimming right at you 3) promise.
Self consciousness aside, I took off my cover-up and patiently waited my turn to plunge into the ocean with the sharks. I glanced over the edge of the boat and was looking to see i
f I could make out the 4 harmless sharks the guidebook described. WTF – there was not 4 sharks but at least 40 of these 5 – 6 feet long sharks swimming around our boat. Our guide was standing at the edge of the catamaran helping everyone off and then reminding them to swim for the rope. I thought back to the guide book description of four lame sharks swimming in front of the rope. I already knew that the number was inaccurate but I was still clinging to this image of me floating peacefully, on my side, dutifully holding onto the rope while the sharks paraded in front of me, on their side. I let out a cry of surprise when I glanced down - you see the sharks were swimming on both sides of the rope. That look on your face right now as you read this, that’s the same look that the guide had on his face when I pointed this out this perceived anomaly to him. He mumbled something about stupid tourist and shoved me into the ocean.I took swimming lessons for years, I mean I wasn’t Olympic bound or anything but there is no doubt that I can execute a simple freestyle stroke. Doggy paddle - that is the ‘stoke’ that I frantically resorted to in order to get my self rapidly over to the "safety". I reached the rope, held onto it and, like magic, my respiratory rate fell from the 50’s to normal and my heart slipped out of the arrhythmia that I know it was in. All was well now, for you see, I had
hold of the rope. I could safely put my face in the water and watch in awe as majestic grey reef sharks swam around me, some very close, as our guide chummed the water with giant pieces of tuna. No worries as I had the rope and apparently the firm belief that we, the humans, had struck some sort of arrangement with these sharks that they would not nibble on any people holding onto the rope. As our time in the water went on I became bolder, floating in different directions, but always with some part of me firmly secured to the rope.I could have stayed for hours but it was time to move on, I doggy paddled back to the boat and regaled the tale of our time in the water to my friend Julie who saw no appeal getting into an ocean full of sharks. My adrenaline high wore off abruptly when I was reviewing Julie’s digital pictures and saw my lily white ass floating on top of the water and grey fins all around me. What the hell was I thinking???? The rope!! That is where I placed all of my faith – a piece of twine. It’s a wonder that I am still alive. But I will tell you something, silly or not (and I know it is) – I cannot explain the absurd notion that I felt while I was there, I truly believed, down to my core, that I could not be harmed by sharks as long as I held onto the rope. Wouldn’t it be great if we could apply that same principle to life? If we could walk around, fearless because we carried a rope - it sounds ridiculous but I carry one, just in case.
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