NARRATIVE NONFICTION

Swimming With Sharks — An encounter with nature’s perfect predator

Looking down from the safety of the boat, the water is like stained glass.

The glare from the midday sun glints off the ocean, creating countless shades of blue – turquoise here, azure there, a multitude of light and shadow.

At the stern, Javier scoops chum from a blood-stained bucket and hurls it over the side of the boat. Seabirds circle in the sky above, squawking and yelling as they wait for their opportunity to steal a piece before it sinks below the surface. The smell of rotting fish is carried on the breeze to where a small knot of people is preparing to enter the water. Talking excitedly, we squeeze our bare feet into rubber fins and spit into our masks to keep them from fogging.

“Do you think we’ll see them today?” asks the woman next to me, a petite blonde from Australia working toward her diving certification.

“Oh yeah, they’re already here,” says our guide, Kyle. He points to a spot fifty feet off the bow where the first fin has broken the surface. “You guys are in luck – we went out yesterday and there were tons, really big ones too!” The excitement in his voice is matched only by the butterflies in my stomach.

I’ve traveled to this remote group of tiny Caribbean islands to volunteer with a group of scientists conducting a study on the habitats of local sharks. Rarely visited by tourists because of their relative obscurity and lack of amenities, these islands have recently caught the attention of a cruise line who has put in a bid with the local government to add a port for their ships. The locals are torn—more visitors would boost the economy, but the environmental cost is steep. Creating a port large enough to accommodate the massive boats would require large amounts of sand to be dumped along the shore, destroying the mangrove swamps that provide homes for multiple species of marine animals and act as nurseries for the vulnerable offspring of larger fish. Our group was commissioned to determine the impact of development on this fragile ecosystem.

Each morning just after dawn, we pile into small motorboats and head for the mangrove swamps across the lagoon. Armed with cameras and waterproof writing boards, we drop anchor just outside the mangroves and sip coffee from thermoses, waiting for the tide to reach the perfect level – deep enough to accommodate a snorkeling scientist but shallow enough for the residents to still be at home.

The roots of the mangroves create a forest of sorts, spreading out just below the water line. We navigate the labyrinth as brightly colored fish dart past us or hide in nooks just out of reach. A foot-long juvenile nurse shark glides lazily over the sand, and a fiddler crab retreats into the safety of a burrow. Every animal we see gets counted and cataloged to illustrate the rich diversity of these crucial sanctuaries.

We leave the mangroves as the tide recedes and head back to the lab to record our data. Excitement is high – this afternoon we travel beyond the safety of the coral shelf to swim with Carcharhinus perezi, the Caribbean Reef shark.

A second fin has emerged from the surface, slicing through the gentle rolling waves. Javier stops chumming and kills the engine. “They’re here.”

We line up, sitting on the port edge of the boat, each waiting for our turn. Kyle and three other guides enter the water first – they will swim behind us to watch where we can’t see. As I cinch up my fins one last time, Kyle’s head pokes up out of the water.

“One last thing,” he says, “if they get too interested in you, just kick them in the face. Have fun!”

Just kick a seven-foot shark in the face. No big deal.

I slide awkwardly off the boat and hit the water feet first with a messy splash. As soon as my head is submerged and I open my eyes, the ocean changes from turquoise to a deep blue, receding below my fins and into black. My whooshing breath through the snorkel is impossibly loud in the silence that surrounds us.

The rest of the group plunges into the water and we form a line with the guides at our backs. At first there is nothing but the vast ocean in front of us. Then the Australian grasps my shoulder and points to our right, her eyes wide through her mask.

The first shark emerges from the darkness like a ghost. It glides past us, longer than I am tall, and my fear is momentarily eclipsed by wonder at its beauty – the strong, graceful body, pale eyes, and curved snout. Hypnotized by its languid movement, I only remember my camera after it’s too late.

A second shark appears to our left, then another below us. Adrenaline stings my limbs as two more six-foot silvery sharks materialize, cruising between each other and around us like a ballet, curious about the gangly aliens that have happened into their territory. I begin to regret my decision to position myself at the edge of the group.

A man in the middle of the line panics and rises to the surface, arms flailing and splashing. Kyle swims to him and the two of them return to the boat, leaving one fewer guide in the water with us.

The shark below me rises toward the surface and seems to be heading away, but at the last second it turns with a confident burst of energy and suddenly I am staring into its white eye and half-open mouth with rows of jagged teeth. It brushes against me, its rough skin scraping my calf. I kick out. My fin drags slowly through the thickness of the water, but I manage to make contact with its gills. It darts away, and I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Eventually the sharks lose interest, and when the last tailfin disappears from view, we make our way back to the boat. As soon as our masks are off, we begin talking over each other to share our excitement. “Did you see how big they were?” “There were so many!” “Did anyone get any good pictures?”

Kyle smiles and passes out cups of hot cocoa. “Who was scared?” he asks. Nervous laughter ripples through the group. His next question: “Who wants to do it again?”

Everyone raises their hands.

(This piece can be expanded to include more statistics and messages about shark conservation.)