By Michael McCarthy
The bedside phone emits the soft hum of a wake up call. It’s five a.m. on a Saturday, way too early for most folks but rise n’ shine time for some guests at the upscale Tiburon Lodge. If you want to go swimming with Great White sharks, you can’t be caught napping.
Dawn slowly turns the sky pink in the hills over San Francisco as a dozen hotel guests, some who have flown here from around the world, make their way down to the MV Tamalpais, which already has its motors running. The vessel eases its way under the Golden Gate Bridge as a fantastic multi-colored sunrise slowly deepens the sky a magnificent shade of maroon, the tiny dots of the Farallon Islands dancing like black pearls on the far horizon.
The Gulf of the Farallones is a protected marine sanctuary, a rich feeding ground for salmon and seals, and home to the largest Great White sharks on the planet. On this early morning, as salmon return home to spawn, hordes of Great Whites have gathered to dine on a sumptuous feast of fat elephants seals. And, occasionally, to snack on a few human beings.
As the islands near, paying guests aboard the Tamalpais slowly don black rubber wetsuits. Hey, if you are going to sup with the devil, it’s always good to look your best. If you happen to look like a seal in the process, maybe a Great White will come looking for you. That’s what the divers aboard the Tamalpais are paying a small fortune for today; a close encounter of the most fearsome kind. Those with serious phobias need not apply.
“We think there are maybe 300 Great Whites that feed here in the Gulf,” says onboard naturalist Peter Winch to an attentive crowd of divers. “Not much is known about them, but we think that, worldwide, the species is endangered. One thing we do know is that Great White found in the Farallons is bigger and more mature than others found off elsewhere, like Australia and South Africa.”
Experts agree that the maximum size of a Great White is about twenty feet, with a maximum weight of about 4,200 pounds. The average length is 13 to 16 feet, with females generally being larger than males. The reason for the fearsome size of Great Whites feeding near Marin County – and the large number of them - is probably due to the rich feeding grounds of the marine sanctuary.
What creates the abundant marine life off Marin County is a fantastic food explosion caused by a unique condition called “upwelling.” Common to only one per cent of the world’s oceans, upwelling off the California coast occurs as seasonal winds shift to a northwesterly pattern, blowing warm surface water northward. Cool waters from the depths of the ocean are drawn to the surface. Mixed with the cold water are microscopic plants called phytoplankton. Upon contact with sunlight these plants bloom, fertilized by nutrient-rich guano from Farallon seabirds. Like a lush meadow, the phytoplankton becomes a feeding ground for tiny animals called zooplankton, upon which fish feed.
Salmon, seals, sharks and whales are found in great abundance here in the Gulf. The salmon attract the seals, which attract the sharks, which attract the shark divers. It’s a bizarre food chain that sometimes finds human beings at the end of the chain, eaten by the sharks. Or, at least that’s the fantasy portrayed by Incredible Adventures, a Florida-based company that specializes in high-risk thrills. If you are interested in scaring yourself half to death, the MV Tamalpais is the place to be today.
The Great White shark is an “apex predator” at the very top of the marine food chain. What happens to sharks has important ramifications to other species in the world’s oceans. The divers gathered aboard the Tamalpais may be more interested in thrills, but they are also fascinated with anything to do with sharks. In charge of today’s adventure is Greg Barron, who explains the importance of studying sharks.
“Biologists have tagged at least 17 Great Whites feeding near the Farallons in an effort to learn more about their behavior,” says Barron to an attentive audience. “We’ve learned that the sharks swimming in these waters travel as far as Hawaii, often at a depth of 3,000 feet. We don’t know if they go there to breed, or if they breed here in the Gulf. We have to learn a lot more about Great Whites.”
Marine experts fear many shark populations are in rapid decline because of fear, or being accidentally destroyed in trawler’s fishnets. There has also been an alarming increase in the lucrative fin trade, where sharks are killed strictly for the value of their fins as a luxury food item in Asia. An estimated 100 million sharks around the world are killed every year. The World Wildlife Fund has listed the Great White among the 10 species of animals it believes will most likely become extinct soon.
“We really need to change our thinking about sharks,” says Barron. “Sharks are not killing machines. They don’t eat people. For instance, when surfers or divers are attacked, it’s usually an accident.”
Accidents or not, being attacked by a shark is one of mankind’s greatest fears. Fear of sharks is termed galeophobia. Sufferers experience extreme anxiety anywhere near water. Hollywood films like Jaws that depict sharks as calculating, vengeful monsters have had much to do with this irrational fear. Most of the 300 species of sharks found in the oceans rarely attack. However, Great Whites, hammerheads and tiger sharks will attack people on occasion, especially if they detect blood in the water. Or if you happen to look like lunch.
Among the earth's dangerous animals implicated in the attack and consumption of humans, only sharks have never been dominated by mankind. Even the fiercest of terrestrial predators like lions, tigers or grizzlies, can be shot. Some crocodiles are certainly as dangerous as sharks, but these are largely limited to Third World countries. They don’t lurk in the shallows fifty feet off Stinson Beach.
John McCosker, a senior scientist at the California Academy of Sciences and a Great White expert, says there have been at least 20 confirmed Great White attacks on humans in California and Oregon since 1993, most of them against surfers. The number of attacks has increased because there are more surfers along with a decrease in the size of their surfboards. Which – from underneath the surface - look like seals and sea lions. Or lunch.
The dozen divers aboard the Tamalpais today have paid a king’s ransom to get in the water with Great Whites, although several look extremely nervous, peering over the sides of the Tamalpais into the deep, dark waters. Somewhere, deep down in Davey Jones locker, looms a killing machine. The level of anxiety can’t be measured, but if somebody starts to hum the “dum, dum, dum, dum” theme from Jaws, a few divers might jump right in the water by accident.
The Tamalpais moors in a sheltered cove, out of the wind and waves. The crew begins to lower a shark cage into the ocean. The water is as still as glass, as are the faces of the paying clients who are about to climb in the cage. Oxygen lines run from inside the cage to the ship, allowing divers to dispense with tanks. The mood is very serious.
Julia Bissinger is the lead diver, an Incredible Adventures veteran of many trips out to the Farallons. She explains that if the seas are too rough, the crew can’t lower the cage, but that’s not the only worry. Even though most of the divers have flown a long way to get here, actually getting in the water gives some people pause.
“Once people get over their anxiety, and we get them breathing calmly, then they are OK,” says Bissinger, wrapping a set of weights around a young woman who looks as white as a ghost. “We had a Great White swim up to the cage last week, nosing around. It was awesome. Enormous, very graceful, very slow. You could reach out and touch the skin, it was so close.”
Shark sightings aboard the Tamalpais are certainly not guaranteed. Even though the beasts can be enormous, so is the Pacific Ocean. The chances of one approaching the cage must be slim. In order to increase the odds, a decoy is thrown over the side of the vessel and tethered by a rope. Made of black carpeting, from underneath the decoy looks just like a seal. If a Great White spots the decoy, it may strike.
Non-diving clients aboard the Tamalpais are fully armed with cameras and binoculars, and there is little chatter as everyone watches the surface of the sea carefully. The sense of anticipation is palpable; you could cut the nervous tension with a knife. Those who came here to experience a sense of horror, either being in the water with the sharks or watching, can count on utter dread as a secondary emotion.
A short ramp and a set of stairs lead down into the cage. The water off the Farallons, surprisingly, is not that cold. Visibility varies from day to day, ranging from 20 up to 60 feet. The color is a deep aquamarine, fading to black in the distance. The cage is fairly large, big enough for several divers at a time.
For shark hunters who are not experienced divers, just being submerged underwater while breathing through an air hose connected to the surface can be more traumatic than seeing a shark. Human beings are not meant to breathe underwater. Some hold on to their mouthpieces with one hand while grasping the bars of the cage with another. There is no set drill for what to do should a shark emerge out of the dark, but supposedly sticking bits of your body out of the cage is not well advised.
Strangely enough, while the bars on the cage are quite sturdy, and narrow enough to stop a shark from poking its nose inside, the top of the cage is wide open. There is no roof on this little floating casket. While divers are waiting to submerge, one of the crew laughs about the time a Great White attacked the decoy and accidentally landed in the cage along with the paying customers (not on the Tamalpais), an event that galeophobiacs could certainly have later dined out on, so to speak, if they didn’t die from fright right on the spot.
There is no sound audible below the surface of the water, aside from a horrible rasping gargle that terrified divers emit as they struggle to maintain their breath and composure in such a situation. Some look around to see what others are doing. Where do you put your feet? Look, that woman has her arm sticking outside the cage! Turning around while connected to a breathing tube is awkward; any motion is clumsy. Claustrophobia just adds to the tension.
Above, sunlight dimly peeks through the murk, highlighting the decoy floating on the nearby surface. All eyes are intent on it, and shadows emerging from the deep. Soon, another worry emerges. While not freezing, the cold water - mixed with fright and intense anxiety - combines to give divers the shakes. Few last more than 20 minutes in these conditions, although hardier souls are welcome to dive again.
Back on deck, divers skin down to swimsuits, towel dry and get dressed. The experience is discussed. Some are disappointed; no sharks today. Others seem visibly relieved. Like riding a roller coaster, the real fun of diving with Great Whites may lie in the feeling of dread and apprehension, wondering if the great killing machine with the nasty grin will deign to make an appearance.
Richard Leslie, an Australian, has come all the way to the Farallons because he has been fascinated with sharks since a boy. He came last year too, but the waters were too rough to lower the cage, so he received a rain check. Although Leslie knew the odds of meeting a Great White face to face are slim, he can’t hide his disappointment.
“It costs a bloody fortune to come all the way out here,” he grumbles over a beer. “I know they tell you there are no guarantees, but it’s a bloody long way to come.”
Suddenly, over the ship’s radio comes a report that a nearby vessel, the MV Superfish, has experience a “sighting.” Trailing its own decoy off the starboard bow, suddenly a huge Great White exploded out of the depths with the fake prey clenched in its jaws. Over the radio we can hear the shouts of the Superfish clients.
Just then, a scream rings out from the front deck of the Tamalpais. Everyone rushes to see what the fuss is about. Hanging over the front bow, onboard videographer Skyler Thomas has sighted a “predation.” A Great White has struck an unsuspecting elephant seal foolish enough to go for a dip. Right in front of our vessel, the surface of the ocean is covered in an expanding pool of dark blood. The frenzied shark can be seen whipping about, tearing the 300-pound body of its prey to little bits. Chunks of body parts drift through the waves. Passengers hang over the railing, watching the vicious attack with horror. After all, in another situation those body bits could be theirs. The attack is ruthless, savage, brutal; it continues for several minutes.
Back inside the cabin, people talk in subdued tones about the predation. Everyone came hoping to get a glimpse of a Great White; some have seen more than they bargained for. “That was truly amazing,” says Leslie, the shark hunter from Australia. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
The predation has come just in time. It’s late in the day, and the Tamalpais is turning around, heading back for shore. It’s five hours back to Tiburon. A fantastic purple sunset appears in the west. Lights twinkle on the Golden Gate Bridge. In the deep dark depths of the ocean far below, the Great White swims relentlessly, looking for its next prey.
Shark ambassador
Jonathan Kathrein knows all about Great White sharks. He is one of a small number of people in the world lucky enough to be attacked by a Great White and live to tell the tale. Kathrein doesn’t hate sharks; remarkably, instead he is on a campaign to save the species from extermination.
Kathrein was 16 years old and surfing off Stinson Beach, only about 50 yards offshore, with sharks the last thing on his mind, when his right hand hit something hard and rough. He kept swimming while his mind tried to process the information. He couldn’t see anything, but a sixth sense said there was something in the water right next to him. He started to panic, screamed and headed back to shore. That was when the Great White struck, and hard. Later estimated at 12-feet, it came out of the water from behind like an aquatic express train, hitting Kathrein on the lower body.
“I couldn’t believe how hard it hit me,” he recalls. “It was like being hit by a boat. It bit right down to the bone, grabbing me in its teeth from my knee to my hip. I thought it was going to eat me alive. Then it took me under.”
Horrified at being bitten, Kathrein then realized he was going to drown instead of having his leg torn off. He opened his eyes, but all he could see was the shark’s body. He tried to wrap his arms around the gigantic beast, but it was too big. Then he stuck one of his hands into the shark’s gills, and grabbed on as the beast dove. That action saved his life.
“As soon as I grabbed hold of its gills, the shark let me go.” he says. “But as soon as I surfaced, I saw how bad the bite was. I also realized I was still in the water, and so was the shark, and I was bleeding to death. I started to swim for the shore. I only had one leg, so it was very hard to swim. I was also terrified the shark was going to attack me again.”
Kathrein somehow made it to shore, where a helicopter ferried him to John Muir Medical Center in the East Bay. He estimates that doctors put around 600 stitches in his body to close the bite. After years of therapy, Kathrein now has a full range of motion in his leg, and can even joke about the attack.
“I’ve got a real nice scar now,” he smiles. “It looks just like a shark bite, and draws a lot of attention from the girls.”
Rather than turn bitter over the horrific event, Kathrein has turned his attention to learn more about sharks, and about Great Whites in particular. After his extensive research, Kathrein admits he has become an ambassador for sharks. He has even written a book about his attack, Don't Fear The Shark, intended as a conflict resolution tool for kids.
“I realize now it wasn’t going to eat me. The only way a shark knows if you are food or not is to bite you. It could have had me for lunch. I was in its territory, and I bumped into it. It didn’t come to my home and attack me. I was in its home. I am in favor of protecting sharks, not attacking them.”
Kathrein has guest lectured on the subject of sharks at the University of California and uses his experience to educate people. He is currently the Executive Director of Future Leaders For Peace, a San Francisco Bay Area non-profit organization.