SO. Sharks.
As I get up this morning I have that nervous feeling in my stomach. You know the one….the one you get waiting for the Dentist, or before public speaking. The one you cant run from. Turns your belly inside out, gives you the adrenaline shakes, makes you nervously smile and make bad jokes. I have all those things.
We have been trying to ignore it. But, we now have to make good on what our brave idiot selves decided was a great idea back in our comfy living room in Canada. I blame rum. The one where we were all, “whats the worst that could happen???” with a giggle at the end. As if we are that brave. As if Chris knows how to swim. As if Nicole doesn’t use me as a shield every time we are in danger.
So as we get up at 2am for a 3am pick up- we try to convince ourselves that we are moving this slow due to the time- not because its like we are going to our executions.
We get all the camera gear ready, bring changes of clothes and blow dryers, make up and brushes. Busy ourselves with the “getting ready”. And all pile in the private car transfer when it pulls up. We don’t at the time take much notice to the fact that the lovely SUV pulls up HOT- like we hear her comin before we see her. Her name is Carmen, and she is definitely related to “Hurry”, the driver from Nepal. She in one. And just like Hurry- she likes to comfort us by making the drive way more scary then anything that may or may not come after. She says that the drive takes 2 hours plus or minus. And she is making it her mission to lean on that MINUS. I can only assume that instead of being paid by the hour, she loses pay by the minute. We have to snake through the coast and mountains to the area of Gansbaai (pronounced like a nefwie- ganns- bye). Its dark. And there is no one on the road but us. And she is in her glory. Max Verstappen taught her to drive. Definitely. No question. We do approximately 150 the entire way through turns labeled with SLOW DOWN caution signs, construction zones, over speed bumps that make us bounce around like children in the back of the bus, nature reserves, school zones, quiet neighborhoods, funeral processions. Carmen don’t care. So that nap we thought we might have? Because we all tossed and turned for the 4 hours we actually had to sleep? Yeah…not happening. We’d have to be crate strapped in like precious art to not get whiplash relaxing in this car. So we all brace for impact at all times, assume we will be catapulted out the front window, and stop speaking. What happens if we get in an accident here? Will I ever feel my feet again? Should we call 911? If 4 muppets die in the mountains in Africa does anyone hear it? Is anyone going to own up to the hot box situation? The fart is strong with one of us…..(muppet #2?? Have something to confess???)
We’re so preoccupied trying not to die that we forget about the sharks for a while. But I can tell we are all feeling very “what are we thinking????? LIKE WHAT ARE WE DOING?????” the whole drive.
An Hour and 40 minutes after we got in the rocket, we arrive. And the White Shark conservation center is a twitter with action. We all climb out of the car and give each others parts back. I think I was wearing Nicoles Bra by the time we stop-jostling around those roads. Bags in hand, we look like we are checking in for surgery. Nicole and Chris made a pact back in Canada. Gary and I did what Gary and I do and just immediately said yes to the idea of Shark Cage Diving- reckless abandon is our jam. But somewhere in the middle of a bottle of wine or two, Chris said he would do it if Nicole would do it…..and she said she would do it if he would do it….and now here we are. Each of them trying to pretend to be brave. We walk in and meet Liz, the woman who we have been communicating with over the past few days. We were actually supposed to do this yesterday, or Saturday. But the ocean decides when it is okay to go out-so these more often then not get cancelled or moved. Liz knew how badly we wanted to make this happen- so when it was cancelled both days and we were heart broken, she made sure to get us in today. So she knows how eager we are to do this. Imagine her surprise when the people who begged for this to happen stand in front of her. Piglet-like cowards, shaking, almost in tears from shear fear. She leads us to a table for breakfast- a muffin, hard boiled egg, some yogurt, and coffee. They have done this enough to know that people need food before they get on a boat- because there is nothing worse then a nerved up group with sea sickness on an empty stomach. I try. I do. But I’m so nervous that eating is NOT happening. Half a muffin gets in, but I just crack the egg open and push it around a little so it looks like I ate. Coffee is enjoyed though. And as we sit there all staring at each other, seeing the people around us all doing the same….pretending to be fine…but clearly not fine…we start to laugh. Hysterically. Uncontrollably. WHAT ARE WE DOING??????? Its all so strange. Its 5am. Dark. Cold. We are being plumped up for the sharks. Each person (there are 20 people in total) sneaking to the bathroom to “pee”.
They hand out jackets and tell us its 5 minutes to briefing time. And my stomach FLIPS. Running to the bathroom I can tell….smell?…that others are freaking too. And that oddly makes me feel better. We are all having the same second thoughts. But….as is the Muppet motto..sometimes you just have to do it afraid. And so here we are.
The briefing is great. Very informative. The head of the conservation project tells us what to expect. Although dangerous, they have never had an emergency incident in 20 years. They will help us with every step, and if we are too nervous we do not have to go in at all- we can decide on the fly. We will be put in the water in 3 groups of 6. We will change into our wet suits just before going in- and they are 7mm thick, so they will be a struggle to put on, but they will keep us warm. We will have goggles and booties. Weights attached. They will use a mixture of fish and salt water to chum the area and get the sharks interested. And once they see sharks, we will get in the cage for 20 or more minutes each group- longer if necessary to see some action. They explain where to put our hands and where not to put them. They talk about the likelihood of attack, which is non-existent if you follow the rules. Then we will get out and watch the others. All in all a 3 hour tour. A three hour tour. What could go wrong.
And off we go.
Bags in hand we walk as a group to the boat that is being backed into the water as we follow it. Tank on board. The crew are all so upbeat and happy! They are a well oiled machine, and by the time we get to the steps, I’m actually at ease. I feel safe. I know they know what they are doing, that is obvious. Chris seems fine…Gary okay…but Nicole is still in FULL PANIC MODE. I mean, this girl has had to be brave- brain surgery isn’t something done without fear! But this? This is putting her at a level of scared I’ve never seen! She looks ready to bolt. Like, Muppet overboard.
When we get on board we are all seated, us at the side on the outside deck to start. We back into the water, are released, and off we go. There are no white caps where we are, but there certainly are SWELLS- huge swells. That make the boat free fall once they mount them- and that’s not helping with the nerves! But after a few minutes we are over the worst of it- and we are headed out to sea- normally we would really be enjoying the ride, but I look around and no one is talking….we’re all just kind of “makin it”. Sitting directly across from us is a sweet woman who is all by herself- ALL ALONE and deciding to do this….and we can all very clearly see she is regretting all of her life’s decisions. I’m not sure what nationality she is- but english is definitely her second language…so we talk a little back and forth and she confirms in broken engish that she is terrified (her exact words are “I’m scared crap”), but also excited, just like us. Her name is Munden. And her and I instantly seem to bond over the fact that we are the two biggest girls here—and we have both clearly been shopping here all week and know that the sizes run small…so maybe even more immediately worse then the sharks, the first intimidating thing that will have to do is put on a wet suit…and as we look around we can see there is no “lower deck” or changing area for that. We will have to put that crap on in front of everyone—and it will be a struggle I’m sure. So I can tell we are both in this together silently- both fearing we are about to look like giant grapes with goggles.
The sea birds follow the boat-“kaaaaaa- go back you idiots-Kaaaaaaa”. But they are beautiful and they effortlessly keep up with us, flying right next to us, knowing that they will get some of the dead fish as soon as we stop.
And when we eventually do stop, about 15 minutes after leaving, Chris and I have walked up to the top deck, Nicole still scared to death and not moving from her side perch. They anchor in 15 meter deep water- “Shallow” they call it. And then we are asked, “who wants to go first?”. Yeah….NO ONE wants to go first guys. NO ONE. All looking at the sky all of a sudden…….Munden from earlier is picked for the first go- so around to the front of the boat to get a suit and then back to the open cabin to put it on. We are given the second group and told that as soon as the first gets their suits and gets in position, about to go in the cage, we will have to come suit up, so Chris and I head down to the main deck to see if Nicole is still on board. She is. But I can see she is literally shaking. I’m pretty convinced she’s not doing this. And that means Chris is not doing this. Which actually puts me at ease- he can’t swim- and although they tell us that is fine- that means he’s probably more scared than any of us- and I’m scared for him…… It’s a vicious Piglet circle of emotion.
By the time we get down stairs Munden is getting on her suit. We all have our bathing suits on under the suits…but she is struggling HARD to get this thing on….as is everyone around her. Seems it doesn’t really matter your size- getting on a wet suit is a whole thing. Picture yourself trying to put a huge sheet of saran wrap over the largest dish you’ve ever seen without it sticking to itself, in a monsoon, while swaying back and forth uncontrollably, on one foot, blind, mostly naked, and drunk. Now times that by 15. Just getting it to the knees looks like a bigger workout then I’ve done in years. Munden is trying hard not to ask for help I can tell- mostly because everyone is in the same predicament…how much help can you be to someone else when you have a rubber suit half way up your legs and you might just crap your pants from fear at any moment?? Amazing to see that all by herself, she gets it up and her arms in, but zipping it up is going to be impossible without help. They are meant to be tight, so every time she bends over to zip-the zipper disappears somewhere between belly button and crotch. She gives me a pathetic look and Nicole and I run over to help her- she stands up straight and up we zip her…I’m hoping there isn’t a “something about Mary” moment happening- but can’t see skin in her zipper and she isn’t crying….so? Good good. She is certainly self conscious…..but honestly? Everyone looks great in the wetsuit! I might get me one of these for home!! It makes everyone look very “tucked in” and we tell her so right away- “girl, you look amazing in that! You need one of these for Friday nights!!! Look at you!!!!!” Nicole says the same to her- and I can tell it makes her feel more confident. I don’t mention she also probably looks delicious to sharks……like a voluptuous seal……
We don’t pay much attention to the people getting in…we just hear the crew yell “we have a SHARK!! Great White! Great White!!” as they are chumming the water… and in group one goes. (They always wait for their first shark sighting to put in the first group.- The skipper says that this can take hours at times and they don’t want people hanging out in the freezing water longer then they need to). As soon as the fist group starts to go in, we are called back to pick out and put on our suits. I ask for the largest suit, and the skipper laughs- “you don’t need the biggest suit” with a wink and his adorable SA accent. He hands me one and off I go- to get mostly naked and change into a life sized rubber condom with my husband, sister and bro-in-law. You know, a typical Monday….. We all grunt and struggle, help each other and try to come up with tricks and tips- “If you stop breathing its easier”, Gary suggesting we pee in the suit to help with lubrication- that’s what he learned in diving school years ago- and I’m all where did you learn to dive??? PRISON?? Eventually we are all in. Nicole looking like Halle Barry (insert eye rolls here). We are given booties and goggles and a string of weights around our necks. And then we hang out for a few minutes waiting for the other group to finish up. The suits are very comfortable and WARM. I’m feeling completely at ease now. Nicole is still terrified- and Gary and Chris just seem to be resigned to doing it …I see “I didn’t get this suit on for nothing” in Chris’s eyes, so I know he is going in….
With the other group out, Gary is in first- walking down the bars of the cage to the far right. Chris next. Then its my turn. I give Nicole one last – “you don’t have too!!” and in I go. And to my surprise- she follows in right behind me. I hear her splash, and see her next to me!!! I’m so excited, and as the last two people get in the end, she looks at me and says, “oh this isn’t so bad!!!”. I’d gape my mouth open if it wasn’t under water. She did it!!!! Gary is concerned, and its hard to turn and see anyone in these get ups, so he just keeps screaming “is nicole okay????” every few minutes….SHES FINE I scream back. HOW ARE YOU CHRIS??? , I’m GOOD I THINK!!. Muppet roll call….Muppet #1? PRESENT-READY….#2? YUP, GOOD. #3? I GOT THIS. ALL GOOD HERE!! #4? YES GOOD HERE.
Then the dead fish get thrown into the water- and the hook with all the fish parts too…..and within seconds we hear it…DIVE DIVE DIVE!!! And down we go. You have to pull yourself down…the suits want to float, and there is actually a lot of strength needed to push down, pulling with your feet on the yellow bar at the bottom, then holding on with your hands. The first time I see nothing. And I hear Nicole say the same- we are just trying to figure out how to do this. But by the time they yell again, we are ready.
And I get down there just in time to see grey skin, teeth grabbing meat, a dead eye looking at me….the largest shark I could ever imagine just inches from my face. He goes on FOREVER…like a shark train! Then the flick of the tail at the end and I have to go up for breath. It hits me that this isn’t behind glass… that if I was stupid enough I could reach out and touch a FREAKING SHARK.
DID YOU SEE HIM??????? OMG DID YOU SEE THAT???? Everyone yelling out into the deep- unable to turn our heads because: wet suit. Nicole is at ease and bursting with excitement- all fear gone….just getting our bearings when we hear DIVE DIVE DIVE again…and down we go again…two sharks this time! One much bigger then the other- and much bigger then the first. But its ON now. I want to see them all. I want to look them in the eye. The bigger the better.
We continue like that a few more times….and I’m starting to feel a little queasy. The swells are still pretty high, and the goggles are very tight, and I’m sick with excitement and adrenaline…and then I hear the girl next to Nicole gagging…..and throwing up……thank goodness she is up current, but before I know it she is being pulled out of the water. Not sure if its sea sickness or fear, but she is out. Her husband left in the water as a Muppet add on. We stay down at least another 15 minutes, seeing a few more epic sharks but none as big as those two. At some point its quiet…and I say…”what the crap are we doing? Guys, we are in the Atlantic ocean. With sharks. In Africa. Take it in….” and I hear Chris coughing…..seems he’s taken on some water. And then we all confirm we’ve done the same…spitting and sputtering. He swallowed the water……He’s fine- but the water is salty and …….full of chum. No wonder the poor girl was throwing up. Gary giggles while we gag…not sure why?
We are told that our turn is over and out of the water we get- one by one- Nicole and I needing to be lifted out pretty much—getting in was much easier. And that holds true for the wet suit also we find out pretty quick. There are others just finishing up getting their suits off from the last go- some kept it on because it was warm, and also in hopes that one of us would chicken out and they would get to come in again….. and as we see them we realize that they are butt crack naked. Like, NAKED. 3 blond men. I imagine Dutch or German- just jiggling all around and turning to look at every noise. I’m not sure where to put my eyes…..so I stare at the floor… and If we thought putting it on was hard….taking it off is like trying to turn a leather sneaker inside out. Like I suppose it can be done, but we decide to just live here now in the ocean – it would be easier. Sigh…not an option. So we huff and puff and squeeze and swear and pee a little, and eventually there is a human sized carcass of us on the floor in the form of an inside out wet suit mixed with Muppet skin. And Gary is still laughing…and it seems his suit slipped right off. And that’s when Discontinued Muppet #1 informs us that he peed in his wet suit. Which means we drank the pee. And the chum. And most likely the random french woman’s vomit. Good times?
We change back into our clothes all the while dodging the three men’s various boy parts…and getting clothes back on a salt water wet body is also a challenge.
And that’s when I start to get sea sick. They told us before we left that people get sick on every single boat- at least one person…and as I look around, there are 3 people actively puking overboard, including French ladies Hubby who has now also succumbed to Gary’s infectious urine apparently. SO between changing out of the wet suit and getting more of a workout then I’ve had in years, the thought of Gary’ hot pee racing through my system, the smell of the dead fish chum, the rocking (the swells are peaceful but HUGE) and the gagging of the others, and probably a little relief mixed in……I’m starting to worry I’m going to be sick too. Nicole, who Is usually the sea sick girl- is FINE- as is everyone else. But I know that I need to head to the side of the boat. One of the crew sees me over there and comes over, says-“see that red light on the shore in the distance? I want you to stare at it- in through the nose and out through the mouth, and drink all of this water quickly- and don’t under any circumstances go downstairs to the bathroom.” And I follow directions…and it works for the most part. I keep saying, “you WILL not puke on this boat, you will NOT puke on this boat…”. And I don’t-But it’s a concerted effort- like I have to concentrate HARD. By the time we start back to shore I am not doing too bad- the boat moving is helping- and I actually enjoy the trip back.
We reach the headquarters base that we left 3 hours earlier, and we all go have hot showers to wash off the salt water and Muppet pee. Its lovely after all the excitement of the morning. Dry our hair and get ourselves done up again. Saying good bye to the friends we’ve made on the boat, shared astonishment at what we just accomplished! Then its up to buy the sweatshirts and tshirts and pens and stickers and I swear we’d by bottled salt water if it was for sale.
We have a tour of Table mountain starting in just 2 ½ hours, so, Hurry’s cousin Carmen Andretti (as Gary calls her) is chomping at the bit like a wild horse waiting to run. There’s a scary look in her eyes, and boarding her BWM SUV for the drive back is probably much more dangerous then what we just did. Any thought of napping is quickly squashed- we had the crazy thought that there would be more traffic on the way back to perhaps she would be forced to slow down. And there is traffic. Its just Carmen couldn’t care less. Its an “either you move over or I drive up your back” situation. And most do move over. Except that one smart car. That turned into a mario cart situation. I wonder if he ever got that bumper out of his nether regions? I guess we’ll never know…
Arriving back at the hotel we quickly kiss the ground, do a drop off of the many bags, and meet our new tour guide for the next 3 days. His name is Omar, and he has an easy laugh and a gentle smile, and I can tell we are going to like him J (that means he laughs at all my jokes).
We get into his van and he drives us around the city a little, showing us the highlights and pointing out the different area’s, answering our questions about the city and South Africa in general. We ask all the curious questions: do you have government provided health care here? Yes, but that is only for those who can prove they can’t afford the private care…the others (the majority) pay for insurance much like America. So it seems its just like a mixture of both Canada and the US. They can get in for appointments and testing very quickly and he is shocked to hear how long it takes for a Doctors appointment in Nova Scotia – let alone testing. Do you pay taxes? Yes- 14% good and services (VAT) and their income tax is the same as ours basically. They have to pay for schooling, 10-30,000 ZAR a month for middle school ($745-$2235) depending on the reputation and offerings of the school. The government takes care of the poor to some extent, income assistance and the like, and low income housing has been built in many areas- but more often then not when they try to get people out of the shacks that are built into large communities all over the city, the poor move into the new housing, and then quickly back to their shacks- renting the home for income. Cannabis is legal here although it isn’t sold by the government.
We drive towards Table Mountain, the one you see from everywhere here in the city. And as we drive we ask about the homes. We are in and out of area’s I would live in, and area’s I would feel fearful walking through- transitioning very quickly between the two. The homes with views on the way up the mountain are about $225,000 In Canadian and he refers to those areas as very rich. He says that the area’s along the coast that we will visit tomorrow are much more expensive, about $3,000,000 CAD for those homes. A Laughable amount if you consider the housing costs in Nova Scotia. It will be interesting to see what that money would get here- from what we can see so far the pricing is very strage; for example- Food is VERY reasonable. Chris and I had: 2 Lamb chops and an 18oz Ribeye, home made fries with each and creamy delicious coleslaw, a greek salad to start for me, chicken Liver and Naan appie for him. And a bottle of REALLY good wine (the 4th most expensive on the wine list) all for the equivalent of $55 CAD. Gas prices are exactly the same here as they are at home, about $1.70/ltr- pretty expensive. Snacks are cheap, beer is about $1.00 a bottle. Wine is $4-10 for really good quality. Hotels are about ½ the price of at home. But paying that much for schooling is heavy, and the average income is about ½ ours in any class. So it’s a very strange mix of pricing. We can’t quite get our bearings with it, shocked one way or the other each time.
As we head up the mountain in the vehicle, we realize that there is an aerial cable car- and that’s what we are heading for. I ask if we are taking that…and he says yes! Right to the top! I’m excited- but the closer we get the more it comes into view…and she STEEP!!!! He says we will take it up without him, do whatever we want for an hour or so, and then come back down to meet again.
Its circular and very big, holding about 40 people at a time. So we get our tickets and as we are about to board Omar says not to worry too much about where we stand, because the floor turns 360 degrees- so we will get a full view as we go up from anywhere. And maybe if I hadn’t just spend the morning with great whites I would be nervous about it, but after that experience, nothing seems daunting- and we climb on board eager and calm. Until it starts to move. Its going up the mountain FAST- and yes, spinning at the same time, slowly, but as you turn the corner to get the view directly down the mountain from where you started it is stomach sinking- its a long way down. I can picture myself freefalling and bouncing off rocks just as clearly as I could see our plane bursting into flames two days ago, or a shark eating me earlier today…and I realize that perhaps this is a little too much danger for a 45 year old in therapy for an anxiety complex…… oh well…here we are.
We approach the hole in the mountain that houses the Cable Car and get off, immediately do what Muppets do and head straight for the bar- its overlooking Cape Town at a dizzying height, but we deserve this beer, celebration beer. And as we stand there, we talk about where we are, and what we did this morning. We’ve been trying to do that more- realize where we are when we are there. Be more present. Understanding that if you had told 20 year old Chris he would be in Cape Town at 56 he would have laughed or assumed he’d been kidnapped. If you told him he would swim with Great Whites I’m sure he would have said, “on purpose???”. If you had told Nicole at 27 in a hospital that she would be here she says that she would have believed you- she always knew she would make her travel dreams come true- and she’s working her way through her list of places she knows she’ll see. But she certainly wouldn’t have believed she’d be here with her little sister, Chris Keddy, or Gary. She would have fought even harder for this. I mean it isn’t all heavy talking. We actually decide to coin a new phrase: “Each one Screech One” in honor of Mandela, our Newfoundland heritage and our love of Rum- and decide that if every Newfoundlander adopted this we could make the world a better place one screech in at a time. (if your not from Canada you might have to look that one up. It involves bad decisions, booze, a fish and all kinds of sketchiness…kind of like our morning come to think of it…)
After the beer is finished we walk around a little- seeing Cape Town from all sides. We spot a little cutie animal laying on a rock- like head leisurely hung over the edge of the huge cliff. I assume he must have fallen there and is dead….why would anything choose to lay like that?? (I could never, my head weighs more then the rest of my whole body, so I’d just slowly slide off to my death). But then he starts to move, looking around. We decide he looks like a Gopher- and then call him a Mountain Gopher, convinced this must be the technical term for him (we were thinking of Table Gopher, but that sounds too much like he’s an appie, so we changed it). As we are leaving we see signs that say “Don’t feed the Dassies” and realize that this is actually what he is called! Look them up! Cuties!!! I mean, we’re still going to call them Mountain Gophers, but Dassie is just as cute J
One quick shopping spree at the “shop at the top” and we leave to come back down. Omar is waiting and takes us back to our hotel- there is an 8:30 call time tomorrow for a Cape of Good Hope tour, and to see the Penguins at Boulders Beach!!! After the excitement of the day we decide why not sit around until midnight and talk about our feelings……starts with “Gary, did you have a good childhood?” and goes from there. You get a stagger of Muppets together all talking about their feelings and the fur will fly. Or the felt. Whatever, the point is that feelings are shared, rum is poured, and at some point I assume Muppets 1 and 3 leave. Because I wake up when my alarm goes off at 6am refreshed and ready to go J
Tomorrow is less scary then today. I’m ready for that……
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