We were off at 6 a.m., sleepy, for sure, but with a stomach full of butterflies. Today is the day: I am going to meet my first Great White Shark!

    We had arrived at Franksraal, a little south of Cape Town, a village near the coast and headquarters of the WSRI (White Shark Research Institute) where Theo and Craig Ferreira, father and son, run their business of shark hunting and shark research.

    We departed from the pier and headed for Dyer Island. This place is a marine sanctuary, a rocky island lashed by the waves and inhabited by a huge amount of sea lions (Arctocephalus pusillus pusillus) and an outstanding colony of cormorants. We anchored the catamaran in a narrow channel between Dyer Island and Geyser Island. We are surrounded by floating kelp - swaying marine seaweed that grows from the bottom to the surface. This channel is about 300 meters long and 100 meters wide and is one of the best locations in the world to watch specimens of Carcharodon carcharias -the Great White Shark.

    To get the attention of a “White Death” we started chumming: feeding smashed sardines, a little whale oil and blood into the sea. It’s a tasty cocktail that could wake up the dead, or attract a shark.

    While the concoction was being prepared, another member of the WSRI cut a one-meter shark previously defrosted into two parts. The shark pieces were tied to two ropes and kept floating by a buoy. The shark is the bait for the shark!

    Meanwhile, Mike the biologist was measuring the intensity of the wind with his anemometer. We have a small breeze, which I can tell without any equipment. The water temperature is only 15 degrees Celsius.

THE WHITE LADY

    The crew and passengers are scrutinizing the waves trying to see the fin that Craig has spotted. The chumming has worked like a charm and now we all see the beast: A three-meter female. First, she cruises past -very close to the bait. On the second run she tests it with a small bite. The third time she comes around the buoy plunges violently. The rope tautens and a couple of members from the Institute pull her to the side of the boat. Cameras are clicking as if sharks were going out of fashion. The photographers look daggers at each other and push, shove and swear. You would think that Claudia Schiffer AND Naomi Campbell were in the water. Naked. It is the moment of truth…

    I am waiting for my turn. My back itches and a bead of sweat drops on my camera, even though it is not hot out here at all. I will not admit to being scared, but, well maybe a little apprehensive. While we discuss if it is worth to keep wearing the neoprene diving suits, we hear a shout that kills all further discussion! The White! The White! She is back! Get ready! A couple of seconds later the cage is dropped from the stern and held in place back with extremely strong ropes.

    No chances are taken, when you have to share the environment with a known man-eater. But, to me it looks more like it is made to keep me inside – and not the shark outside. My colleague and I drop into the drink. Now it really hits you: Cold water, muddy and green - and most important – where is the shark! Quickly, we grab the regulators which are tied to the inside the cage and connected to the boat with a long tube. We breathe fast and hard, there is any amount of air, not reason to save like when you dive with a tank on your back.

    My colleague and I look around and at each other. Where the hell is that shark? The seconds tick by. Turn into minutes. No action, no shark. The cage oscillates non-rythmically, and the visibility is limited to max 3 meters. The movement makes me nauseous and for the second time to day I feed the fish what is left of my breakfast.

    Felipe, my partner, looks up with anger. He thinks they have been chumming from the boat. Then he turns around and sees my face. He understands, takes his regulator out – and the bastards grins – but also signals me: “Are you okay”? I make the OK signal and go to the top of the cage to get a little fresh air. The upper part of the cage floats on the surface while the bottom is about three meters down. The cage has lateral apertures to avoid the bars of the cage to get in the way while shooting photos.

    We wait and wait, but nothing happens. Where is the shark? All of a sudden, I feel startled by a pull on my leg. It does not hurt, so I must assume it is not a shark, but my friend. However, he did manage to scare me that I must admit. The adrenalin gland is working overtime. My friend is pointing towards a spot in front of us, but I cannot see a thing. I keep staring into the green nothing, heart hammering.

    Suddenly, I feel a jolt on my back. The shark is rattling the cage! It shakes it like a dog shakes a rat and I can hear a hurtful screeching of triangular teeth and metal in very close contact – to put it mildly! I turn around while clutching my old Nikonos V with a 15 mm lens. What I see at only a few centimeters distance, accelerates my pulse and I receive a huge discharge of adrenaline.

THE ABSOLUTE PERFECT KILLING MACHINE

    The revs on that gland must be way into the red section! I have never seen anything like it, and I have dived with sharks several times. This is the most awesome creature on earth, unchanged for thousands of years. All power, all danger, all beauty, is the absolute perfect kill machine. No wasted effort, it hardly seems to move, supremely powerful and awesomely graceful. Just a few centimeters from my head, there is a jaw full of white teeth framed by bloody scars, which opens and closes. I am only able to hear two things: My own heart pounding and this hellish screeching of metal.

    I take several photos, but I am not able to frame to perfection. It is a job on its own just to keep the balance. A sudden lash of the shark’s tail makes me fall on top of my partner, screwing the image of the year. No time to apologize. I hardly have time to shoot the last photos while this magnificent creature is moving away out of our field of vision, once the bait that has been dropped from the boat has been devoured.

    We emerge and are lifted onto the deck. With a mind full of images, I tell my wife what we have seen and felt. It is her turn if the crew can lure the shark back in – or a new one approach lured by the chummy! She formulates a string of rhetorical questions to delay the moment. But eventually, and after some psychological and spiritual help she manages to get into the cage to have her particular experience.

Text and photos: Carlos Virgili / RiscK