Honolulu Star-Advertiser © Susan Scott
May 13, 1996
ABOUT a year ago, a friend called to invite me to join a small group traveling to Western Australia to swim with whale sharks. I wasn’t sure where this was exactly, I didn’t know much about whale sharks and the trip was expensive.
Just say no, my sensible self told me. I signed on and went back to work.
Then, last week, that far-off day finally arrived. I was on a dive boat in the Indian Ocean off Western Australia, speeding toward whale shark territory.
But rather than being exhilarated, I was jumpy, and fighting a nervous stomach.
What have I gotten myself into? I wondered. In moments, I would be jumping into the water with an enormous shark that people knew little about.
Oh sure, I knew whale sharks were plankton feeders. And I had seen pictures of people swimming with them. But looking at pictures was one thing; snorkeling alongside the creature was another matter entirely.
As I fretted, a spotting plane droned in the sky above our boat. This was part of the routine. When the pilot saw a shark, he radioed its position to several boat captains.
The boat captains then sorted out who would drop how many passengers into what area of the ocean.
SUCH details are strictly set by Western Australia’s Department of Conservation and Land Management, the agency responsible for this unique marine park. Managers and users alike are determined to preserve and protect this rare marine treasure.
And rare it is. The unique combination of coral spawning events, marine currents and nearshore location makes Ningaloo Reef off Exmouth one of the few places in the world humans can see whale sharks.
It also creates one of the few places where biologists can study the little-known creatures.
One such researcher from Perth University hitched a ride on our boat and answered questions as we waited for the plane to radio good news about spotting sharks.
WHALE sharks are the world’s largest fish, growing to about 50 feet long and ranging throughout tropical waters.
These sharks have thousands of tiny teeth but neither bite nor chew their food.
Like manta rays, whale sharks eat by drawing water in their mouths and out their gills, straining plankton in the process.
And that’s about it. No one knows how these big fish reproduce, how long they live or how many exist.
Our biology talk was cut off by the excited shout of our dive leader. “Get ready,” he called. Then, “Quick, JUMP IN!”
Frantically adjusting masks and snorkels, 10 of us fell into the water, kicking like mad to keep up with our leader.
And then suddenly, there it was, a 40-foot shark just a few feet from my face. The creature bore the familiar dorsal and tail fins of most sharks, but there the resemblance ended. This shark was a luxurious velvety blue adorned with symmetrical white spots.
THE whale shark’s mouth was working rhythmically, sucking in water like a giant vacuum, then pushing it out through its gill slits.
We watched the shark for what seemed like seconds but was actually about 30 minutes. At one point, the creature pivoted on its tail, feeding in such slow circles that each of us had thrilling views of the entire animal, over and over again.
Chicken skin covered my body, and my contact lenses got sticky from staring. But I wasn’t afraid. Instead, every cell in my body was exquisitely attuned to the moment.
Floating face to face with this magnificent animal was an exceptional example of one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences. I’m glad I can’t say no.