"The boat pulls up 10 metres from the buoy. You've been through the usual checks, and tucked any dangling gear away. And then you think "Am I nuts?" The oke in the water has just said that there are four Tiger sharks under the buoy and 30-odd blacktips and yet you're pulling on your mask, holding your reg' in, and listening to the skipper count down. You're on auto-pilot now. Usual drill: Three, two, one, go! Hot tub, signal, orientate, extend hose, equalise, descend, look down and towards the bait box, bounce eyeballs off inside of mask! It's shark soup down there. Woooohoooo! Awesome!
Hanging at eight metres, level with the bait box full of sards and with a few choice morsels of game fish temporarily attached to it, you can observe most people's idea of certain death for over an hour. Halfway through we had no less than seven Tigers, averaging four metres in length, enjoying a mid-morning snack, and no need for zoom lenses on this dive, these girls come closer than you'd let your boss tomorrow after a few celebratory post-dive foamies.
I have dived extensively around the southern hemisphere, and this is the best dive I've ever done; better than 30 minutes of mantas, better than whale shark snorkelling, better than qualifying. Sure, it's over a thousand bucks, but, by Captain, it's worth it."
Christopher Bartlett, freelance travel journalist |