Steven Spielberg hanging out with JAWS
SHARK!!!
This year being the 50th anniversary of the movie, JAWS, it seems like the perfect time to regale you all with my shark encounter. Since Utah is landlocked, I hadn’t had any live connections before. I’d visited the ocean a few times on vacation but mostly found seaweed. The closest I’d ever come to danger was at a party in college where we watched JAWS while swimming in a pool. Guys being what they are, we were all attacked. It was a total massacre.
It wasn’t until many years later that I had a chance to go to Hawaii and meet the fishy kind of shark. I decided that I was dying (perhaps a poor word choice there) to go on a “swimming with the sharks” activity and signed my husband and daughter, Catherine, up too.
The sharks would be real, but the “swimming” would only be bobbing around in a shark cage with a snorkel just a few inches underwater. As we read the brochure, we learned a few more details. The cage was permanently attached to the ocean floor in a place where fishermen often dumped their fish guts, so sharks were accustomed to coming to that place in case a snack was available. Fatalities were rare, but some of the species were, “Known to sometimes be aggressive. Please sign the waiver below.” We reassured Catherine, “Don’t worry, they just have to say that for insurance. Probably.” With round eyes we all read carefully on. This would be a magical experience. Right. We must follow captain’s orders. Of course. Sunblock recommended. Right. Consider seasickness meds. Okay. Wear swimsuits and flip flops. Naturally. There would be bottled water and some snacks, and we were welcome to bring our own as well. Great.
BANANAS ARE NOT ALLOWED ON BOARD. What?
Mystified, we read that statement several times which was easy because the rule was repeated on every page. Why? Did bananas upset sharks? Did the captain have an allergy? We hadn’t thought about bringing bananas for a snack until the brochure told us not to. But we weren’t about to mess around with the giant 50-foot, man-eating sharks our imaginations were feeding us. The brochure could have told us literally anything and we would have followed instructions. Moving on, “Keep arms and legs inside the cage at all times.” Absolutley! “DO NOT ATTEMPT TO PET THE SHARKS!!” “What? Who on earth would be stupid enough to do such a thing?
The big day came and we presented ourselves, with no bananas and were allowed on board. It was a windy day and the sea was choppy. I was just thinking that I should have taken the seasick pills, when the boat stopped. We could see the cage, AND we even caught a glimpse of a shark swimming around the boat. We would be in the first group. Gulp. Nervously, we donned our snorkels and carefully climbed down the ladder into the water. Instantly, our legs floated out of the cage. Why were the bars so far apart?? We tried to stabilize ourselves, but the cage was bouncing with the waves, and it was impossible. When Catherine’s body parts drifted out, we raced to drag them back in. She was paying close attention to us and doing her best to prevent us from becoming lunch as well. Actually, it was quite endearing. We were all strangers, but everyone helped everyone. We all grabbed the arms, legs, bottoms and whatever else we could to keep every part of every body from floating away.
Meanwhile, shark after shark drew near and circled us. It was mesmerizing. Even though we weren’t far underwater, it was silent and otherworldly there. I hadn’t expected the sharks to be so large, so majestic, so graceful. I felt utterly peaceful as they swam around and under us. I wanted badly to reach out and pet one. But I managed to remember the stern warnings and so have lived to type this with both hands. All too soon our turn was over, and we climbed out to stagger to the other side of the bobbing boat to throw up. It was worth it. If I ever get to go back to Hawaii, it’s the first thing I’m signing up to do.
Looking back I think that maybe they should have canceled the cruise that day because it was impossible to stay in the cage. But no one was hurt and maybe it was because of the choppy water that we got to see so many sharks. The captain begged us all not to post on trip advisor that we had seen twelve big ones, because he couldn’t promise anywhere near as many to other groups.
In trying to remember the type of shark we saw (probably Galapagos), I saw that there are now, “cage free” shark excursions. That’s where my sense of adventure stops. If you sign up for one of those, you’re on your own. I’m happy here in Utah, petting the brine shrimp.
It wasn’t until many years later that I had a chance to go to Hawaii and meet the fishy kind of shark. I decided that I was dying (perhaps a poor word choice there) to go on a “swimming with the sharks” activity and signed my husband and daughter, Catherine, up too.
The sharks would be real, but the “swimming” would only be bobbing around in a shark cage with a snorkel just a few inches underwater. As we read the brochure, we learned a few more details. The cage was permanently attached to the ocean floor in a place where fishermen often dumped their fish guts, so sharks were accustomed to coming to that place in case a snack was available. Fatalities were rare, but some of the species were, “Known to sometimes be aggressive. Please sign the waiver below.” We reassured Catherine, “Don’t worry, they just have to say that for insurance. Probably.” With round eyes we all read carefully on. This would be a magical experience. Right. We must follow captain’s orders. Of course. Sunblock recommended. Right. Consider seasickness meds. Okay. Wear swimsuits and flip flops. Naturally. There would be bottled water and some snacks, and we were welcome to bring our own as well. Great.
BANANAS ARE NOT ALLOWED ON BOARD. What?
Mystified, we read that statement several times which was easy because the rule was repeated on every page. Why? Did bananas upset sharks? Did the captain have an allergy? We hadn’t thought about bringing bananas for a snack until the brochure told us not to. But we weren’t about to mess around with the giant 50-foot, man-eating sharks our imaginations were feeding us. The brochure could have told us literally anything and we would have followed instructions. Moving on, “Keep arms and legs inside the cage at all times.” Absolutley! “DO NOT ATTEMPT TO PET THE SHARKS!!” “What? Who on earth would be stupid enough to do such a thing?
The big day came and we presented ourselves, with no bananas and were allowed on board. It was a windy day and the sea was choppy. I was just thinking that I should have taken the seasick pills, when the boat stopped. We could see the cage, AND we even caught a glimpse of a shark swimming around the boat. We would be in the first group. Gulp. Nervously, we donned our snorkels and carefully climbed down the ladder into the water. Instantly, our legs floated out of the cage. Why were the bars so far apart?? We tried to stabilize ourselves, but the cage was bouncing with the waves, and it was impossible. When Catherine’s body parts drifted out, we raced to drag them back in. She was paying close attention to us and doing her best to prevent us from becoming lunch as well. Actually, it was quite endearing. We were all strangers, but everyone helped everyone. We all grabbed the arms, legs, bottoms and whatever else we could to keep every part of every body from floating away.
Meanwhile, shark after shark drew near and circled us. It was mesmerizing. Even though we weren’t far underwater, it was silent and otherworldly there. I hadn’t expected the sharks to be so large, so majestic, so graceful. I felt utterly peaceful as they swam around and under us. I wanted badly to reach out and pet one. But I managed to remember the stern warnings and so have lived to type this with both hands. All too soon our turn was over, and we climbed out to stagger to the other side of the bobbing boat to throw up. It was worth it. If I ever get to go back to Hawaii, it’s the first thing I’m signing up to do.
Looking back I think that maybe they should have canceled the cruise that day because it was impossible to stay in the cage. But no one was hurt and maybe it was because of the choppy water that we got to see so many sharks. The captain begged us all not to post on trip advisor that we had seen twelve big ones, because he couldn’t promise anywhere near as many to other groups.
In trying to remember the type of shark we saw (probably Galapagos), I saw that there are now, “cage free” shark excursions. That’s where my sense of adventure stops. If you sign up for one of those, you’re on your own. I’m happy here in Utah, petting the brine shrimp.