Ocean
Watch
Monday, December 13, 1999
Tiger shark’s roving
eye reveals little
LAST week, quite unexpectedly, I found myself face to
face with a 7-foot tiger shark. There was no mistaking what kind it was.
With its conspicuous round head and dozens of dark stripes running down
its sides, this shark was as distinct as its feline namesake.
Mesmerized, I watched the shark swim past me and caught
a brief glimpse of its roving eye. Up and down it moved, then forward and
back.
What messages were those busy eyes delivering to the
fish's brain? I wondered. Did the shark have feelings? Or was this animal
simply on biological autopilot all its life, swimming without thought or
emotion to find food and mates?
That dark, piercing eye reminded me vividly of the one
other time I was eye to eye with a tiger shark.
I was riding in a Boston Whaler in the clear, shallow
waters of French Frigate Shoals, the atoll housing the research station of
the Hawaiian Islands National Wildlife Refuge.
It was a calm and glorious day. As I soaked up the
beauty of the atoll's white-sand islands and turquoise lagoon, one of my
colleagues shouted, "Shark!" I looked to where he pointed, and
there in the clear water, not 10 feet from the boat, the dorsal fin of a
huge shark was smoothly breaking the surface.
WE eased closer until we were gliding parallel to the
slow-moving creature. The boat was 17 feet long, the shark about
two-thirds that. Pale stripes marked its back and sides.
I was gaping at the enormous fish, just a couple of
feet from the rail now, when a veteran biologist in the boat suggested we
take turns looking at the shark. We could don dive masks, he said, and
briefly, one at a time, hang our heads over the side.
"Is it safe?" I asked.
"It's cruising for seals and albatrosses." He
shrugged. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to."
But I did want to. With heart pounding, I quickly
pulled my mask over my eyes and nose, took a deep breath and dipped my
head into the water.
The shark, not three feet from my face, eyed me coolly.
I stared back, watching that black pinball eye move around its socket. Was
the shark interested? Confused? Annoyed?
I didn't have long to wonder because I soon had to come
up for air. My two colleagues took their turns, and then, in a flash, the
shark was gone.
WAS our peek at this big predator really safe? I'll
never know. But I do know that my second tiger shark encounter, where I
was even closer to the fish, was 100 percent safe.
That's because this shark was in a tank at the Maui
Ocean Center Aquarium.
Although this second encounter wasn't dangerous, I
still got chicken skin as I watched a scuba diver in the tank try to feed
the shark.
The tiger ignored the dead fish this time, but I
learned later it often takes such offerings. So far, it has never hurt the
hand that feeds it.
The Maui Ocean Center staff caught this shark by hook
and line in Maui waters last February. After a traditional Hawaiian
blessing, the then approximately 4-year-old shark was placed in the
750,000-gallon tank, called Underwater Journey, where it thrives to this
day.
Tiger sharks in aquariums are rare because they are
more difficult to keep than other shark species. If this individual shows
any signs of decline, the staff will release it back to the ocean. Right
now, however, this tiger is healthy and growing.
We humans will never know what a tiger shark is
thinking, but it's a remarkable experience to look into those dark eyes
and imagine.