Bull Shark Beach

Having booked this twelve day expedition way in advance and having spoken numerous times with Anna and Jimmy Abernethy about what we would be doing, one particular event stood out like a sore thumb. It would involve what was to be some very close encounters with one of man's most feared sharks - the Bull Shark.

The myriad of headlines covering every newspaper stand and TV news spot read like the score of an NBA basketball game. One after another the headlines were the same - "Shark attacks swimmer." Each one eloquently worded to appear unique in its own way. The media ate up these hot stories faster than a hundred sharks can get through a bait ball. Each one seemed to have a new twist on the same story. The one thing most of them had in common was the culprit of such a horrific event - the Bull Shark!

To add to the drama was a story I had been watching very closely. The Discovery channel was filming a documentary on Dr. Erich Ritter, "Shark Behavioral Scientist," at Bull Shark Beach. Its original plot was to enlighten the public on the undeserved reputation of these so called man eaters. Dr. Erich Ritter was to enter the water as he had done many times before to study these amazing animals. His numerous theories on what made a shark attack, particularly the Bull Shark, read like the Book of Tao on swimming with sharks. His intentions seemed right for a "Shark Behavioral Scientist." Teach the public to understand and appreciate its creatures and you will rightfully help conserve their existence on this planet.

Unfortunately this story's plot took a different course. For in the midst of their filming in the waist high waters of Bull Shark beach, a Bull Shark clenched its teeth around the leg of Dr. Erich Ritter. The Bull Shark then dragged Dr. Erich Ritter a short distance before cleanly severing off most of his calf muscle.

Here was a shark behavioral scientist who had spent countless hours in the water with these Bull Sharks. Someone who could supposedly understand and translate their behavioral patterns, yet he had gotten bit at the same exact place I was to visit. Needless to say, my anxiety grew ten fold as the day approached when I was to enter the water with these massive animals that are best described by Anna Abernethy as the shark version of a "wrestler;" massive in girth, commandeering in attention, the proverbial perfect eating machine. Many a times I assured myself that I did not have to go through with this. That I could easily stay on shore and watch from the safety of land as my brave friends played a nail-biting game of poker with fate and these impressive Bull Sharks.

Article after article, I devoured every spec of information that I could get my hands on regarding the Bull Sharks. I watched documentaries on Bull Shark beach. I read and reread the rules to diving at Bull Shark Beach until I repeated them in my sleep. These rules were nothing more than suggestions that have worked for the hundreds of divers that have visited this very special place without a single incident. I was to dress in all black - from head to toe. Having any contrasting colors was likely to attract a little more attention than one would like from these Bull Sharks. Feeding these sharks was a big no-no. Any fish in the water was likely to stir their behavior and possibly make for a dangerous situation. Instead, like the Abernethy's had done on all our other shark dives, they were to simply grab the Bull Sharks attention by appealing to their sense of smell and curiosity.

Half way through the expedition we made way to Walker's Cay in the northern Bahama Islands. Arriving at this elegant little island we had some breakfast, gathered our belongings, and made our way to the other end of the island. Alongside a small air strip, a well-kept wooden dock with an ingeniously designed dive platform laid elevated above the rocky shore by two wooden cranes. I promptly walked to the edge of the dock and looked down upon the famous Bull Shark Beach . My heart raced in excitement, the sweat running down my forehead doubled as my eyes made out the large, dark shadows slowly gliding in the shallow water. Everywhere I looked these shadows appeared before me. Then I heard a voice confirm out loud what my mind did not want to believe, "There's a Bull Shark! And another." There was no confusing them in the mix of Lemon Sharks, Nurse Sharks and Black Tips that also swam in the group. Their demeaning size stood out beyond the rest.

I could not have been any more nervous had I been the first astronaut out in space. Quietly in my head I questioned what I was about to do, those hundreds of news headlines flashed across my mind like the lights in Las Vegas. Dr. Erich Ritter's accident played again and again in my mind.

It wasn't long before the nice folks who ran this operation would appear with a disclaimer stating that I would not hold them responsible for anything that might happen to me. That I would not wear any jewelry which could possibly give the shark indigestion should it decide to make brunch out of me. That upon signing this disclaimer they advise that I have my head examined by a doctor. I signed it! One of my buddies signed as a witness. The blind leading the blind.

Reaching for the hand-winches, two of the workers slowly engaged the cranks. Click after click the platform was slowly lowered into the water. Click after click my nervousness grew exponentially to the point where I was afraid the sharks would be able to sense my racing heart beat from above the water. The platform was now in the water!

A few of the more daring individuals in the group quickly suited up, strapped on enough weight to sink a cruise ship and quickly made their way down the steps and into the water. I, on the other hand, stalled like I've never done before. A thin 0.5mm wetsuit took me longer to don than it would take someone to wear ten layers of 7mm wetsuits. My mask required numerous dousing of antifog liquid. Each weight on my weight-belt was strategically being arranged. I couldn't stall any longer. The natives were getting restless! "Laz, you going in or what?!?!" voiced Anna Abernethy. Plucking the last of the chicken feathers off my arm I grabbed my camera and made my way to the stairs.. Taclunk.. taclunk.. taclunk.. With every step the voice of my friend, Nestor, echoed in my head over and over again, "You're nuts, Laz!"

Appearing like one of the Men in Black, I enter the water. I was finally here - Bull Shark Beach ! From a distance I could see the sharks make slow passes. With no fins on my feet, I walked on the water like an astronaut on the moon. As I reached 5ft of water the breathing through my snorkel increased. The twenty douses of anti-fog were of no help.

Eventually my breathing subsided, my mask unfogged and my heart returned to less than ultrasonic speed. All the while from some distance the Bull Sharks would make an occasional pass. A few female Black Tips sharks, some sporting some fresh bite marks from what was probably a wild night out in the town, occasionally came in for a closer inspection. Like a chameleon, one of my eyes was glued on the approaching Black Tip shark while the other scanned all around for any incoming Bull Sharks. Time after time the Black Tips sharks, Nurse sharks, and the occasional Lemon shark would come in for a close encounter of the toothed kind but the Bull Sharks kept their distance.

"Hey! What's going on here?!?!" I start to think to myself. Do these so-called man eating sharks really think I'm not man enough to at least warrant a closer inspection? Minute by breathing minute I became braver. If Mohamed won't come to the mountain then Laz will go to the Bull Sharks. From my left I could see a Bull Shark swimming parallel to the beach. Like a crocodile submersing itself underwater, I sank to the bottom and moved forward as stealthily as possible. The Bull Shark turns away from me! Again and again I attempt to cross paths with one of the Bull Sharks and once again they turn away. I know I'm not the most attractive piece of meat underwater but come on! I couldn't help but ponder on all those restless nights I spent thinking about my encounters at Bull Shark Beach only to laugh at the final outcome — a tail shot or ten of a Bull Shark. Bull Shark beach was definitely an exhilarating experience, mostly by my out-of-control imagination, and a great place to find shark teeth but no where near as frightening as it's been depicted.

With my fears ebbing with the tide, the reputation of these awe-inspiring Bull Sharks was replaced with a fearful concern for the future of these creatures. Ironically enough, soon after the Discovery channel and Dr. Erich Ritter's ludicrous documentary on "The Anatomy of a Shark Bite" aired, a few articles were written and hundreds of messages were posted throughout the Internet telling the true story. Had Dr. Erich Ritter, "Shark Behavioral Scientist," followed the tried and tested rules of Bull Shark Beach ... Had he shown the slightest amount of well-deserved respect for these wild animals then maybe such an incident would have never happened. What concerns me most is the fact that if a shark scientist like Dr. Erich Ritter sells out on the very creatures he's trying to protect by allowing the Discovery Channel to air such a absurd documentary that did nothing to help show these sharks in their true light - as the Lion of our ocean planet. Revered and respected for their struggle to exist in a world where the planet's true apex predator - man - insists on eradicating them. If the shark behavioral scientist sells out on the animals he supposedly adores then who can these animals look to in hopes of telling the "true story" of one of nature's grandest creation?

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