Exploration of Shark Park - Part I
My very first day of encounters with great white sharks at New Brighton State Beach, Capitola, California.
Photo by Giancarlo Thomae
May 4th, 2020
If my life were a TV show, the week of May 4th, 2020, would have been my Shark Week. Many sightings of white sharks had begun to occur near New Brighton State Beach, in Capitola, California, as they had in recent years past, earning that area the name “Shark Park”. That week, however, was my first time venturing out to see them, and many opportunities came my way to see them via different water and aircraft. On May 8th I got to see the sharks from a boat, on May 6th from a helicopter, and on May 4th I got to kayak alongside a few.
What makes someone like me a good candidate for kayak exploration of “Shark Park”? It’s not a “death wish”, as one of my housemates suggested. I’m not particularly prone to reckless or impulsive behavior either. What I happen to have is a profound love for the ocean, a good ability to be alert and perceptive while remaining calm, and most importantly, enough remarkedly positive experiences with wildlife to boost my confidence.
In 2013, I had the incomparable experience of having a sea otter jump out of the water and onto my lap while I was kayaking in Moss Landing, California.
Later that same year, also in Moss Landing, a couple of humpback whales graced me with their presence during another lovely afternoon of kayaking.
Photo by Giancarlo Thomae
September 12, 2013
In 2014, I got to swim with a few Amazon river dolphins in Manaus, Brazil, the country where I grew up.
Photo by my mom
July, 2014
These are some of the crown jewels I’ve been gifted in a life colored by wonderful experiences in nature. But my latest acquired crown jewel is bound to be the most controversial.
I would hate, however, that people might confuse my general positivity for naïveté when it comes to my wildlife encounters. Context matters, especially when it comes to approaching great white sharks. I wouldn’t be as eager to jump into a kayak and approach a white shark under just any circumstance. But the circumstances at “Shark Park" were actually quite favorable, namely that the water was clear (ideal for me to see them, but also for them to not confuse me with something else), that the area is inhabited mostly by juvenile sharks enjoying its warm waters (not a feeding area, and juveniles feed on mostly fish), and that I was being aided by my friend Giancarlo Thomae: a biologist and shark aficionado who has done this many times before. There is also, and I can’t stress this enough, a right way to approach an animal without harassing them.
As we had planned, I paddled out from the beach while Giancarlo sent out his drone, and he notified me what he saw via radio. And sure enough, sharks eventually approached my kayak. I stopped paddling and stayed still. The experience was exhilarating, but I can’t say that I was scared, even to my own surprise. I was happy, laughing, smiling, and occasionally sharing some expletives of excitement with my friend over the radio.
Perhaps my lack of fear has to do with the diminished surprise element. I paddled out knowing they were out there, and that I had eyes in the sky telling me where they were. I must say though, since I was expecting juveniles, when the shark that was about the size of my 12-foot kayak approached my left side, the thrill was undeniable. It is not lost on me that all this took place on May the fourth – the Force felt like it was definitely with me.
I imagine that if I was paddling somewhere where I wasn’t expecting a shark and saw one approach me, I probably would have been more frightened. But isn’t it odd, to paddle out into their home and be surprised when we see them? The first shark Giancarlo’s “bird” had filmed, circling the kayak, was one that I wasn’t actually able to see. Not surprisingly, sharks have developed great countershading as a camouflage mechanism over millions of years of evolution. But it makes me think of how many times white sharks might have been near someone like me or the thousands of people in leisure out in the Monterey Bay waters, and we’ve never known, and they didn’t bother us.
Other than the fun and adventure that people like me and Giancarlo experience by kayaking with sharks, there is a scientific purpose and advantage to approaching the sharks this way. Firstly, approaching any animal in a non-motorized vessel causes the least amount of disruption to their natural behavior. Secondly, the kayak gives us a good notion of scale when it comes to measuring the approximate length and overall size of the shark in combination with the aerial photography. Lastly, the ability to get that close to a shark might allow us to record smaller unique identifying features, such as their dorsal fins and scars, or other body markings. This can help us determine if individual sharks that we recognize continue to return to “Shark Park” year after year, and how much they might have grown from one sighting to the next.
A couple days after my first up-close encounter, we got to zoom out and view the white sharks from the sky, courtesy of Chris Gularte at Specialized Helicopters. What makes someone like me an ideal candidate for airborne exploration of “Shark Park”? It probably won’t come as a surprise to you that the lady who is down to kayak with sharks is also unafraid of flying. Otherwise, I’m just fortunate to have friends with contacts.
Shameless selfie
May 6th, 2020
We were able to spot so many sharks! Easily at least twenty of them, many juveniles, but some notably larger. We also spotted a couple of sunfish on this lovely, clear and sunny day in May. The nice thing about being accompanied by a friend with photography skills and a large expensive zoom lens is that I wasn’t even tempted to try to capture the sharks with my humble phone cam. I just got to sit back and take it all in.
By Friday, May 8th, 2020, exploration of “Shark Park” via boat was underway – the goldilocks of approaching sharks for most people, where you get to feel close and see them while being on the water, without probably ever feeling scared or intimidated. By then I was feeling more seasoned in spotting these elusive shadows moving through the water, and I thoroughly enjoyed yet another day out at sea.
The man always behind the lens, finally caught in front of it.
Me and Giancarlo, May 8th, 2020
My Shark Week would have been phenomenal under regular circumstances, but after spending most of the previous two months indoors, abiding pretty strictly to shelter-in-place guidelines, I was elated. Not only did I get some wonderful time outdoors, I also acquired material for really interesting conversations that had nothing to do with COVID-19.
On Saturday, May 9th, 2020, I had been seduced by my friend Cameron into meeting the new puppy they had recently added to the family.
My dog, Ears (left), meets Daisy the puppy (right), who looks like a mini version of him.
You thought I was going to miss an opportunity to insert a puppy picture? Absolutely not.
May 9th, 2020
While I was enjoying the new puppy bliss and reconnecting with friends, I received a text message from Giancarlo informing me that a surfer had been attacked by a shark at Sand Dollar Beach (part of Manresa State Beach), near Watsonville, California. “F****! How bad was it?” I replied. Before Giancarlo had time to respond, one of the people I was with looked at her phone and announced to the room that someone had died from a shark attack. Sand Dollar Beach happened to be right near the house where I was at that time.
My heart sank. All the joy I had been experiencing from my Shark Week suddenly felt out of place. I started getting messages from friends of the news reporting of the attack. What are the odds of a shark attacking a human altogether, let alone for it to be a fatality, and let alone for it to happen only a few days apart from my first time seeing white sharks up close? Even worse, this happened a day before Mother’s Day.
It’s difficult to advocate for sharks on a “good day”. It is especially difficult to do so after a young, and by many accounts, beloved member of the community dies as a result of an attack. Tales of the mysterious creatures in the depth of the blue have informed how humans interact with the ocean, and the tales of caution are not without reason. But fear without knowledge and curiosity is a dangerous weapon in the hands of humankind.
As I began to see the footage of me kayaking with the sharks circulating through news media outlets in relation to the attack that took Ben Kelly’s life, I scrolled through some of the comments and found a person suggesting that people should be allowed to shoot sharks that approach a certain distance from shore. With a plethora of historical evidence of ecological catastrophes caused by the removal of key predators from the environment (for example, the wolves in Yellowstone), I advise everyone to be skeptical of any solution that consists of merely “shoot it”.
Although the odds of a shark attack are probably as low as they have always been, our perception of its likelihood is probably heightened given the timeline of the sightings of the abundance of white sharks in Santa Cruz, California, in the couple of weeks preceding the attack that took Ben’s life. Sadly, regardless of our perception regarding sharks attacking humans, it is undeniable that human activity in the ocean wreaks havoc in shark species far more than they could ever do to us. From barbaric practices of cutting off shark’s fins and throwing their still alive bodies back in the water, to the hundreds of thousands of literal tons of sharks that die each year as bycatch – for me it is not difficult to see that sharks need all the help they can get when it comes to human advocacy.
During the COVID-19 global pandemic, I imagine that many, like myself, have spent some time contemplating their own mortality. I’ve given more thought to what it means to leave my affairs in order in the event of my untimely demise. But also, it has made me contemplate what is meaningful and what I would like to spend more time doing during the days I still have on this Earth.
From the little that I know about Ben Kelly, he spent his last day on this Earth doing not only something that he was clearly always passionate about, but also one of the few things we still had access to during times of social distancing. We both sought in the ocean something to keep us physically and mentally healthy.
Living life in a way that is full and abundant to each of us will always involve risk. Ideally, we’ll take precautions to minimize said risk, but at the end of the day, we’re the ones left to calculate the risk/reward ratio of the activity in which we want to partake. A lot of the time, we’ll find a way to justify the risk because of the reward we experience. For example, when I was presented with the opportunity to fly in a helicopter to view the sharks, I didn’t hesitate for a second. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that we had recently lost Kobe Bryant, one of the world’s most beloved athletes, to a helicopter crash. But even if it had occurred to me, it probably still wouldn’t have stopped me.
There is no amount of explaining that I can do that will ever grant many people the understanding of what I get out of the pursuit to explore, better understand, and spend time with animals in nature, even the “scary” ones. But I am grateful for the interest and curiosity people feel toward the wild and toward large animals like white sharks, which has made TV programs like Shark Week so popular. It just takes people like me who are willing to get close enough under the right circumstances, allowing the world to glimpse into the many facets of the creatures that share the ocean with us.
Photo by Giancarlo Thomae
July 13th, 2020
