Sinking their Teeth into Sharks
Text: Dale Morris. Article from the January 2014 issue of Country Life Magazine.
Dale Morris swallows his fear (and a handful of seasickness tablets) and visits Mossel Bay, where a remarkable team of marine scientists are shedding light on the mysterious great white
On a good day, the sight of a four-metre great white shark circling my boat (a small boat at that) would have been enough to scare me half to death and send me screaming for my therapist. But the swell was big that day, and I was starting to feel sick and, besides, the crew on board the Cheetah, a scientific study vessel from the Oceans Research institute in Mossel Bay, was having a whale of a time.
There where whoops of excitement and gasps of awe as, one after another, a cavalcade of giant, toothsome fish swam by to check us out. No one else was scared, not in the slightest, and from that I drew some courage.
Alas, I could not find relief for my queasiness, and when a cute, young intern from Canada (dressed in white rubber boots) began trampling a vat full of fish heads, I finally succumbed to my nausea. Afterwards, I closed my eyes, lay down and couldn’t lift my head no matter how excited the crew’s shouts became.
Mere inches from where I lay, thrashing sharks flicked water onto me, and I became aware of Mike Barron, the head scientist, shouting in wonderment as a giant beast erupted from the water to grab one of his decoys. But I felt so utterly wretched that there could have been marine dinosaurs or krakens or EFF supporters in scuba gear ramming the boat and I wouldn’t have moved a muscle. I wasn’t getting any photographs and I just wanted to get back onto dry land, curl up and die.
The following afternoon, with a stomach full of seasickness pills and cameras full of memory cards, I once again accompanied the shark research team on one of their forays into the deep of Mossel Bay.
“You feeling better now?” Mike asked as he started Cheetah’s engines. The girl in boots was already stomping away at the chum (an oily fish soup used to attract these predators), but the sea was calm and so was my stomach. “Yes. I think I’ll be just fine this time,” I told Mike. And I was. And yes, the experience of seeing these magnificent creatures up close and personal was unforgettable.
Mike, a Master’s student of marine biology with the University of Pretoria, is just one of a large team of academics and educators conducting marine science research through Oceans Research, a high-tech facility and campus set up several years ago by National Geographic presenters (and doctors of marine biology) Ryan Johnson and Enrico Gennari.
Mike’s study of possible shark deterrents will take him three years to complete and requires daily visits to the shark’s main feeding grounds, a small seal-covered island just 800 metres from Mossel Bay’s busiest tourist beach.
“Other than humans, the only thing a great white has to worry about are killer whales,”
Mike told me, while attaching two surfboard-shaped pieces of foam to a rope at the back of the boat. “Maybe they will hesitate before attacking something the colour of their predators, or perhaps they will vacate an area where killer whale vocalisations can be heard.” Mike has a hydrophone that emits killer whale calls as well as a series of patterned decoys with which he studies shark reaction. “We want to test the theory that black and white patterns will cause a shark to call off an attack”
They glided like giant ghosts in and out of the murk, raising their heads through the water to occasionally peer at the juicy young scientists gathered on the bow
Miss Boots was ladling her sardine broth into the water, two other scientists were at the ready with clipboards and measuring instruments, and sharks were turning up by the truckload. They glided like giant ghosts in and out of the murk, raising their heads through the water to occasionally peer at the juicy young scientists gathered on the bow.
Measurements were taken using cameras and laser beams. Individual sharks were identified from patterns on their fins (as singular as a fingerprint I was told) and, all the while, killer whales sang their eerie, high-pitched songs through Mike Barron’s hydrophone. Then, after an hour or two of bobbing around with no less than 13 great whites circling us, Mike hit the accelerator and off we went, dragging his decoys behind us.
It wasn’t long before we had a strike. The water thrashed in dramatic fashion as a hippo-sized great white leapt into the air with a decoy in her mouth. And then, as quickly as it had happened, all was quiet again. “Take a look at this,” Mike called to the crew as he hauled his decoy on board. There were tooth marks all over it. “It struck the plain black board. The one that most resembles a seal or a surfer. But it didn’t touch the black and white decoy.”
Mike’s study is still in its infancy, and is part of a broader research programme looking into shark deterrents. But, if his data turns out to favour his theory, we can soon expect to see black and white surfboards (with speakers on them?) and wetsuits that make you look like a whale. A nasty whale at that.
Later that day, back on dry land at the Oceans Research Campus, I ran into Fiona Ayerst, wife of Ryan (the institute’s co-founder). An underwater photographer and film maker, she gave up a well-paid (but perhaps boring) job in law to focus her attention (and lenses) on underwater wildlife. Her life is a constant juggle of teaching students her craft, teaching people about fish stock, and raising her little son, who is (coincidentally or not) named Finn.
“We have numerous divisions here at Oceans Research,” Fiona told me over coffee at the campus, where scores of young interns from across the world bustled about us, readying themselves for the next shark trip into the bay. “We also have a kids outreach programme that brings marine topics to local schools. But our main focus is the continued research of marine animals and the environment, the great white being our flagship species.”
In season, you can sit on this beach with your pina colada and, if you are lucky, see a seal get taken by a great white shark
She explained that the institute supports international and local marine scientists by providing expert guidance and access to resources such as boats, scientific equipment, communications and, most importantly, a population of sharks that has been intensively studied for a decade or more. “Funding for all this comes mostly from our interns,” said Fiona. “They pay to come here and learn from the scientists which, in turn, pays for the cost of the research.”
Since Ryan and his colleague Enrico began researching sharks in 2005, we have learnt that they are transient animals and do not have a permanent residence, are capable of swimming from South Africa to Australia, and can hunt seals at night.
Later that evening I met Enrico, the institute’s top scientist, down on Diaz Beach, a strand of golden sands shadowed by looming multi-storey hotels and shiny new plazas. Just across the way sits Seal Island, a multi-choice buffet for passing sharks. “In season, you can sit on this beach with your pina colada and, if you are lucky, see a seal get taken by a great white shark,” Enrico told me. “There are thousands of bathers in summer but none has been attacked. In fact, we have discovered that the sharks prefer to hunt fish on the other side of the bay at that time of year.”
I asked him about the accusations against the shark cage-diving industry of conditioning sharks to attack people, but he flatly denied this. “When we put chum in the water, sharks in the vicinity will come and investigate, but just like lions in a safari park, they not associate a vehicle with the people inside it. Not even people in a cage. If they did, they would attack the cage, but they don’t.”
He pointed out that, every day, hundreds of commercial fishing vessels work these waters. “Every single one will be throwing tons of by-catch and fish guts and chum over the side. Sharks have been following boats ever since mankind stalled fishing. The chum put out by the shark cage-diving industry or research teams is just a tiny drop in the ocean compared to what fishing vessels discard.
“It is tragic when someone dies from a shark attack. But these events are still comparatively rare, when compared to the number of people killed annually by faulty toilet seats and wobbly ladders. Anyone who tells you shark attack numbers are up is not considering that there are now hundreds of thousands more people swimming in shark waters than there were just 20 years ago.””
Oceans Research is in no way affiliated to the one commercial shark cage tour operator in Mossel Bay, but Enrico does support the industry. “Anything that helps people understand sharks is good. But it’s a shame these tours are often too expensive for the average South African. The more people who get to know great white sharks, the better.”
The following morning I rounded off my trip to Mossel Bay with a hugely exciting shark cage-diving tour. Animated, agitated and adrenalin-pumped tourists were placed in a cage at the side of the boat and chum was used to lure in any sharks that might be in the area. A tour guide then coaxed the shark to swim back and forth in front of the cage using a big piece of tuna attached to a rope.
There was nothing so exhilarating as being in the water with a predator of such power, just inches away from my fragile little body. They are both magnificent and terrifying; a study in bulk and muscle and sharp, efficient teeth. And what’s more, their very presence serves as a reminder that we humans are not as omnipotent as perhaps we like to think. I was shaking when I got out of the cage, and it wasn’t because of the cold.
I certainly had to concede that, without the shark cage industry, we probably wouldn’t have a law in South Africa banning fishermen from killing great whites. Every year tens of millions of sharks are killed elsewhere in the world, as by-catch, or intentionally to fuel the Chinese demand for shark fin soup. The future does not look good for sharks but, here in South Africa, at least the great white is protected.
Oceans Research www.oceans-research.com
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