Diving with sharks

Just remember they don't like taste of humans

Author: By Peter T. Elikann, Globe Correspondent

Date: SUNDAY, October 5, 1997

Page: M7

Section: Travel

``We'll be lowered down in protective cages, won't we?'', I queried. ``Will we be behind some kind of glass?''

I was told no. The sharks would be swirling all around us, and we would be unprotected. However, I was told not to worry, since it's a myth that sharks like to eat people. In reality, they really don't like the taste of humans. I was further told, in what sounded like the punchline to some bad joke, in those rare instances where they have taken a bite out of people, they've actually been known to spit them out.

``That would be quite some consolation.'' I mournfully replied as the theme music to you-know-what-film began to play in my head.

Still, I went, and the trip, my first scuba diving experience since getting certified last fall through a course at a Cambridge pool and on Cape Cod, was both safe and exhilarating. A dozen of us went to a region on the southern end of the Bahamian island of New Providence near Lyford Cay called South Ocean -- the location for such films as ``Flipper,'' ``Cocoon,'' ``Splash,'' numerous James Bond movies, ``Jaws IV,'' and the granddaddy of all underwater motion pictures, the 1950s classic ``Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.'' The dive center, named Stuart Cove's -- that's the owner, not the location -- is on the azure blue waterfront surrounded by casaurina trees and hibiscus.

The first morning we set out on the boat, Tursiops, to do, under excellent supervision, what's known as a wall dive. This is where a precipitous ocean trench may go down as far as a mile, but the most visually stunning sections of coral reef may be down only 70 to 80 feet. What you're actually looking at are the exposed remnants of mountains that were submerged after the ocean level rose following the ice age.

There's always an inherent weakness in writing about scuba diving at a coral reef. Descriptions fall short. To merely use words like ``beautiful'' or ``magical'' doesn't do justice in giving a true sense of what it's like. Even the less attractive areas are so otherworldly, like silently hushed lunar moonscapes. It's a classic case of ``you have to be there.'' We swam through corals blossoming with enormous sponges and various pelagic species and saw parrotfish, lobsters, groupers, barracudas, a spotted eagle ray, and yellowtails.

Back on board, we learned that the surface of the ocean had become 6 foot waves. Even some of the more experienced divers became a bit queasy. We raced to change tanks as the lurching Tursiops headed to our next dive location, since diving into the calmer water below is a surprisingly, almost instantaneous, cure for seasickness. I barreled back into the ocean at the first opportunity and swam below to explore two sunken wrecks. The ships were cloaked in deep water; gorgonia and yellow tube sponges decorated the anchor clain. They had become a complete manmade ecosystem as the reef moved to cover them. As we penetrated hatchways and opened cargo holds, I saw moray eels peeping out from under debris.

The next morning, we were back out at sea, using some incredibly fun underwater scooters, known as Apollo AV-1DPUs. They're somewhat like engines you hold onto as they propel you at a pace so rapid that our support boat chased after us overhead by following the path of our bubbles.

In the afternoon, we embarked on the centerpiece of our trip, the shark dives.

In the first dive, we swam along the reef in a shark-infested area, and gradually the sharks began to appear -- 8- to 10-foot Caribbean reef sharks. After all that buildup, there's a strange calmness as they come into view. We'd been given a plethora of assurances. I soon regard them with the same matter of factness I develop for any of the other underwater creatures around us. Besides, since I'm a lawyer, I took solace in the corny old joke that, though the shark might eat everyone else, they would leave me alone as a professional courtesy. Also, at any time, I could intimidate them back by showing them my resume.

We returned to the boat to change our oxygen tanks and then swam down to the ocean floor to a sandy clearing within the coral called the Arena. We kneeled in a circle around two boxes of cut-up fish that the dive staff has brought down to feed the sharks. Within seconds, more than a dozen sharks were upon us. They swirled in and out between us in a rapid, frenzied, dancelike, rhythmic interplay. We had been told to keep our hands close to us with no sudden movements, but I was snapping away with a rented underwater camera. The sharks with their built-in sonar were supposed to be able to do their fandango among us without bumping into themselves or any of us, even as they appear to be roaring toward us 2 or 3 feet away. Still, one managed to bump me hard with his fin. Afterward, some of the other divers told me that, they, like myself, entered into a calm, almost meditative, state. Others said that fear had pitched a tent in their stomachs.

Like other travel companies who believe that the unrecorded travel experience is not worth having, a staffer taped our two shark dives for our future purchase. Additionally, they provided a still photographer who shot close-ups of each of us with sharks. The resulting snapshots of our faces with our mouths open wide around our oxygen mouthpiece and our hair floating up above our heads like fright wigs were enough to scare children. Thoreau's dictum to ``Beware of all enterprises which require new clothes'' comes to mind.

After the dives, our limbs intact, the traditional aspects of leisure travel were available to those who wanted to partake. That night, those who wanted grabbed a ride to the opposite end of the island to the town of Nassau to experience souvenirs, casinos, and high-rise hotels filled with bars and shops. As someone whose international touring is generally restricted to adventure travel and human rights work in Third World countries, I was curious to witness the ways of traditional luxury resorts in such a well-established tourist area. To sit around a pool surrounded by a nearby Planet Hollywood along with Domino's Pizza and Baskin Robbins' shops hardly seemed worth the while of leaving the US. But if you're looking for something else in a vacation -- mere relaxation and fun -- this clearly fit the bill.

I was curious whether the many decades of a primarily tourist economy had destroyed any vestige of a true Bahamian culture. Sadly, though the standard of living is relatively high and there is little true poverty, there is little Bahamian culture readily in evidence aside from some food fishes, the ubiquitous pina coladas, and music.

What I did find, however, was a genuine spirit and style. From the minute we disembarked from the airplane and entered long lines in the huge customs hall, we were hit by the lively heat of the junkanoo goatskin drums of a live calypso-style band. I fantasized a vision of everyone sashaying right past the customs clerks in a conga live.

The natives also seemed very proud of their sense of place and would often preface a truly ordinary sentence with the phrase. ``Here in the Bahamas we say . . ..'' This would lead to some really banal innocuous lines such as ``Here in the Bahamas we say, if you're not on time for the shuttle bus, you will miss it.''

But everyone I encountered was so nice, and I picked up none of the sometimes apparent resentment of tourists held by the locals in so many vacation spots. This went double at the off-the-beaten-track restaurant, Avery's, in Adelaide Village, near where we were diving. Avery's is owned by Avery Ferguson, a native Bahamian, and the former chief of police of the entire island, who gave us a ride to the restaurant. His wife, Joan, not only served as our waitress, bringing us a flotilla of conch, but during the day served as a courtroom judge. We placed our orders, referring to her as ``your honor.'' This led to a lot of very cornball lines she had to suffer through such as ``The verdict is in. We like the grouper.'' Or just ``Order! Order!''

The excursion, organized by Mass Divers of Natick, was the perfect combination of first-rate specialty diving for novices and veterans alike, along with traditional tourist activities.

For information, write to Mass Diving, 247 West Central St., Natick, MA 01760, or telephone (508) 651-0698.

For information on shark diving in the Bahamas, write to Stuart Cove's Dive South Ocean, PO Box Cb 11697, Nassau, Bahamas, or telephone (800) 879-9832.