Big-ship cruising and scuba diving are often incompatible, so on a Princess cruise of French Polynesia, I was delighted to find that diving was available as a shore excursion at most of the ports. I'd dive for part of each shore day, and tour for the rest. In Bora Bora, I signed on for a double dive, and, after answering some questions about my experience and interests, joined a small group of others headed to see sharks.
I like seeing almost anything underwater, but sharks hold a special fascination. There is something unknowable and primordial about them; something timeless and graceful, too.
Safety issues of Diving With Sharks
I'm not all that scared of your basic reef shark, although I keep a respectful distance. The fact is that shark attacks of any kind are relatively rare. According to the International Shark Attack file, there were 61 recorded shark attacks – worldwide – in 2009, of which 5 were fatal. (In 2010, however, there was a spike in the statistics with a series of shark attacks in Sharm el-Sheihk, Egypt.)
My lack of fear may also have something to do with the fact that scuba divers are rarely the victims of shark attacks. Partly, it's because divers in shallow coral reefs encounter less aggressive species: usually white tipped reef sharks, black tipped reef sharks, and nurse sharks, along with maybe a few larger gray reef sharks (not to be confused with pelagic gray sharks) and lemon sharks. Also, some marine biologists have speculated that divers, cloaked in chemical-smelling synthetic neoprene and carrying air tanks, may seem as alien to sharks as they are to us, less like food than visitors from outer space. Swimmers and surfers look or smell more like dinner.
Shark Diving for Tourists in Bora Bora
Bora Bora has been called the "Shark Capital of the Pacific" by Skin Diver magazine. White and black tips, gray sharks, and lemon sharks abound, and occasionally hammerheads can be seen as well. Indeed, you don't even have to be a diver; the dive shops have set up special excursions for non-divers.
At the dive site, several sharks circled the boat when we arrived, their fins occasionally poking above the surface. This was something new: It's one thing to think you aren't scared of sharks, quite another to be jumping into the sea where you can actually see them waiting for you.
I back-rolled in. The sharks moved away. A sea turtle swam by and hung around for a while, completely ignoring us. A Napoleon wrasse the size of a small pig seemed overly friendly – it was even possible to pet it, and the reason became clear when the dive master showed up with some bread. This fish knew dinner time when it arrived. For this fish, a bunch of divers back-rolling into the ocean had only one meaning.
The sharks followed us down, circling at a distance, first just shadows somewhere out there in the blue, a small flick of motion, and then nothing. A few of them started coming closer, gray shapes taking form from the blue water: the black tips and white tips were about five feet long, but some of the gray sharks were as long as six or eight feet. Big enough.
A Shark Dive and a Feeding Frenzy
At the end of the dive, our dive master signaled for us to take a safety stop. The purpose of the safety stop is to pause long enough on the ascent (usually 3 minutes) at a shallow enough (usually 15 feet) depth so that the body can off-gas any extra nitrogen to avoid the potentially deadly diver's ailment known as "the bends." Just so you know: 15 feet is about the length of two minivans lined up end to end.
My dive buddy and I ascended onto the rope. We both had a fair amount of air left in our tanks – more than enough for a safety stop. We reached the 15 foot depth, and hung on to the rope, prepared for 3 minutes of safety-stop boredom.
And then the dinner bell rang for sure. Apparently, the boat crew had started tossing chum into the water – and every shark in the neighborhood showed up. What had been placid water suddenly began to roil. The sharks were in a feeding frenzy a mere 15 feet above our heads. No one had told us this would happen. We stared at each other, stunned, and both of us took quick looks at our air gauges. Clearly, this was no time to be ascending to the surface! I'm not the world's most air-efficient scuba diver, and I devoutly hoped that I'd have enough to outlast feeding time.
The sharks flopped and lunged at each other and the food, and the water churned white with a bit of red mixed in. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The boat crew stopped throwing the chum, and, as though a button had been pressed, the sharks turned back into quiet graceful creatures that drifted away, flicking only an occasional fin.
We rose to the surface, exhilarated and stunned at what we'd just seen.
Environmental Issues of Chumming for Sharks
Chumming is a controversial activity. While it undoubtedly gives divers both an thrill and an appreciation for sharks, it may not always be environmentally responsible. Shark tour operators claim that they use nothing other than sharks' natural food for chumming, and that the educational benefits of exposing tourists to the undersea world outweigh any negligible impacts. (Indeed the argument that exposing people to the natural world creates an interest in preservation has been a mainstay of environmental organizations for many years.) In some shark diving hotspots, such as Fiji, shark diving is studied by marine biologists, and has been managed in such a way that local villages have taken a financial interest in protecting the reefs. And shark dive operators are certainly right that a shark dive is an unforgettable experience.
But, according to the Pacific Fisheries Coalition, shark tourism's impacts may cause unnatural aggregation, displacement of natural populations, and changes in aggression. They claim that It can create dependency on human food, upsetting the balance of the animal's diet and the ecosystem. Another conerns is that concentrating an unnaturally large group of different species that don't usually interact into a frenzied cluster, which may change behavior. And critics fear that chumming can be dangerous to people, too: Sharks can get used to chumming so they expect it. If a boat arrives at a site that is usually chummed, and no food is offered, the sharks could become aggressive toward the people.
As a result, environmental agencies are studying the practice, and it has been curtailed in many of the world's hot-spot shark diving locations. I have to be honest: Shark diving in Bora Bora was a thrill. But the next time I have the opportunity, I'll check up on the environmental impacts and recommendations from local marine preservation groups before doing that backroll into the shark-filled seas.