Upon arriving in Nadi, Fiji, " earl-leye in the mornin' ", I hooked up with two Englishmen (John from Worchestire [who I had originally met in the airport in Hawaii] and Matthew from Darby) and a New Zealander (Emma), who was only laying over in Fiji until the evening, when she was catching the final leg of her flight back home. We decided to check in to the ridiculously cheap Nadi Bay Motel (all except Emma, whose well-to-do parents set her up in a swanky hotel [for less than a day's stay!]) and then head off to the beach. But when we arrived at the motel, I discovered that today would be the only day I'd be able to do my much-anticipated shark dive (in fact, I arrived almost too late to do it at all!). So I told the guys, along with Alex and Rachel (two gals, also from England, that we met in the motel -- boy, did I feel American) that I'd meet them and Emma later. I quickly hailed a cab and taxied over to Aqua Trek, slammed down $149 Fijian Dollars (about $102 U.S. -- this price included round trip ferry transportation, lunch, a 45 minute shark dive and a " I Survived The Mana Shark Dive" T-shirt [which I would get at the conclusion of the dive . . . assuming I did, in fact, survive) and copped a ride to the ferry.
The inter-island ferry took about an hour and 45 minutes to reach Mana Island, a picturesque Fijian island several miles off the coast of Viti Levu (the main island), where I had started from. I arrived at 11:00, and lunch wasn't set to be served until 12:30 (with the dive following at 1:30), so I had more than an hour to explore the island and do some snorkeling (I took more underwater photos, but this time I couldn't get the film to advance inside the case -- I actually had to take the camera out each time and advance the film manually, which naturally broke the airtight seal, getting the camera wet and and myself extremely frustrated!).
After a nondescript lunch, it was finally time for the shark dive. I got into my gear and hopped aboard the dive boat, introducing myself to several of the 15 other divers (including William, a South African, who became my diving buddy). Surprisingly, I wasn't as nervous as I should have been (perhaps the dives in Hawaii had hardened my constitution). The only point at which I started to feel a wee bit apprehensive was when our Fijian dive master pulled out a bloody chunk of unidentifiable meat and chucked it into a cage. As soon as we anchored, he tossed this cage with its tasty shark snack over the side of the boat. Then he said: "Okay. . . jump in!" So I jumped in. The water was incredibly clear, and I saw a wide variety of fish and coral. The dive master proceeded to tear off a hunk of flesh from the caged meat, and he started tossing out gristly strips of chum as he swam around, hoping to entice the local Bronze Whaler Sharks (ringing the dinner bell, so to speak).
My heart started pumping double time in anticipation. My eyes darted back and forth, searching the ocean depths for man-eaters. For a long time, there was nothing -- in fact, a full half-hour went by with nary a predator in sight. I really started to think this would be little more than an expensive swim outing, when suddenly, the first grey snout appeared -- seemingly crystallizing out of thin air (or thin water, anyway). It was between 4 and 5 feet long, swam swiftly and looked awfully hungry. Soon a second appeared and maybe a third (I was never quite sure because they would alternately come close and swim out of view, and I never saw more than 2 at one time).
At first, the sharks kept a respectful distance (as did I). Slowly but surely, however, we all got a little bolder. Before I knew it, the sharks were circling around me, coming within 2 feet of my face. I scrambled to take a photo, but naturally the sharks zipped out of range as soon as I raised my camera. I was determined to snap the "perfect" picture, and in the process, I got a bit carried away. I started swimming after the sharks in order to frame a close-up shot (which I eventually got), only to find out later that this had been a very stupid thing to do (when we were safely back on the boat at the end of the dive, the dive master berated me for my foolish risk -- he told me that you NEVER chase after a shark, because this frightens them, and they are more likely to attack you if they perceive you as a threat . . . oops! [While the shark may not have bitten my head off, the dive master surely did!]).
-------------------------Jaws . . . Up Close And Personal!-----------------
Up to this point in the dive, I never really felt threatened by the sharks, even though their beady little black eyes and razor sharp teeth were definitely unsettling. This was, however, about to irrevocably change: for some reason only known to the creature itself (and perhaps Jacques Cousteau) one of the sharks suddenly charged right at me, seemingly intent on doing me harm. It moved so swiftly, that even were I not completely immobilized by fear, there was no chance for me to escape. I would have kissed my ass goodbye had I been that flexible, but, lo and behold, the shark swerved at the last possible moment to grab a gory morsel off the end of the quick-thinking dive master's pole (Phew! Truthfully, had he not managed to divert the shark from its course, I might well be writing this entry from a hospital bed . . . with my toes, no less!). At the point of near impact, my heart had dropped into my stomach, and I used up half my air supply. Once the shark had passed me over and I realized I was in one piece, I wisely decided to hang back and watch the remainder of the feeding frenzy from behind the relative safety of a rock.
Soon it was time to ascend and reboard our dive boat. As we made our way back to Mana Island, I thought about how the shark dive was an experience I would not likely soon forget (nor repeat!).
When I arrived back at the motel, Matt and John were finishing up their nap. The three of us met up with Alex and Rachel (Emma had already caught her flight to New Zealand) and decided to eat dinner in the motel, followed by a "romantic" moonlight stroll for five along the Nadi beach. We walked for well over an hour in the pitch black, conversing whilst we ignored insistant drunks and declined even more insistant taxi drivers. At the end of the night, we all exchanged addresses and went to sleep.
2 comments:
You have already proven to me just how brazen you can be, but sharks? Eeks!
That picture, and the story that accompanies it, makes me shiver!
I now have a low bass strumming in my head... da-dum... da-dum...
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