And there were Sharks, Na na na na.....

Last Sunday was wonderful in that due to a lucky chance, my two roomates Saim and Ciara had their day of Shark Diving cancelled due to weather. They were rebooked for Monday.
Guess who has Mondays off?
 So, over the course of an hour of epic text planning (seeing as I was at work at the time), I was booked for a Shark Dive.
My Monday began at 4:45am, which was when we were picked up by the shuttle to head to the coast. It was a two hour drive, and I lucked out in that I got the seat up front beside the driver, which reclined and was much more spacious and cosy than the shared benches in the back of the van where the other ten passengers were sitting. SCORE.
 I slept two more hours, and we arrived at 7:00am at Great White Experience. For R900 (Barely more than $120 Canadian) they had a buffet breakfast and coffee and tea for us while we were being breifed and filling out our forms. Once we headed out on the boat, all was magical forn about 25 minutes. We were heading out far out of the bay, where the currents were practically a superhighway for Sharks making their way to Australia Via the Atlantic. I love being on water, and I love the feel of wind, so all was well until we actually stopped.

 For my own pride, I need to put a word in here. Up until this past Monday, I have NEVER been seasick. I have been in boats, ships, and sailboats large and small and never had a queasy moment. I have never been ill on rides, planes, or car trips. Motion sickness has never been an issue for me. Therefore, it was a bit of a shock to me to have have spent a good solid hour alternately throwing up over the rail, and taking sips of water to steady my self in between.

So, back to the boat stopping... I sensed it coming within minutes of the boat stopping. Apparently, it was not just me. The operators explained that due to some combination of motions from side to side and back and forth with the currents, feeling ill is incredibly common on board, and I was one of about 12 people who were ill, some more than others. Since my nausea resistant (and nausea loathing- seriously, I once talked myself out of throwing up whilst I had the flu, out of sheer mental force) stomach sensed the upset, I decided to be amongst the first divers of the day. Not only would being in the water settle my stomach a bit, I didn't think it would be easy to get into a wet suit and acoutrements while wanting to vomit.

So, by about 8:30am, I was climbing off the side of a boat, into a tiny metal cage, and spent roughly 20 minutes in the company of four Great White Sharks. On several occasions, we were less than 2 feet away as they drew the bait across. Once, one hit the cage.

When it was time to come out, the timing was perfect. My nausea returned almost immediately to epic proportions, and though I tried valiantly to refrain, once I saw another passenger throwing up over the rail, I was in the same position about 6 seconds later. I am a sympathetic vomiter.

The woman apologized profusely once she'd finished. "Omigod! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to start a chain reaction!"

All was well, except for the bit where I was still in a wet-suit in mid-morning in winter, and I was shivering violently, and desperately wanted to get dressed. Unfortunately, getting dressed involved going into the hold... At which point I would no longer see the horizon, which was until the point my main source of NOT throwing up.

Between sips of water provided by a worker, I managed to get myself out of my wetsuit and into my clothes without
A) needing to run and vomit over the side in an ill-fitting livid purple bikini provided by my thoughtful roommate (shout out to Ciara) or
B) throwing up on the floor of the hold (which had been done by another passenger already) due to unwillingness to be seen in aforementioned livid purple bikini. Between the two, I would have taken the embarrassment of A over the disgrace of B, but thankfully I avoided both by some combination of prayer and mental concentration. I managed to get myself into jeans, t-shirt, sweater, and wool overcoat without incident, and made it back to rail for round two in much more comfort than before.
My vomit-buddy (her words, not mine, but appreciated) was still crouched by the rail looking green and had her mouth around a lollipop for dear life, but when she saw me, off she went and we shared another bonding experience via forced expulsion of breakfast.

Over the course of about an hour and a half, I threw up three times total. The last round wasn't much more than gagging with enthusiasm, but it still improved things. Between the incidents, I was on the cage side, watching the sharks from above. You could see for a few feet under the water, so we had some impressive sights of lurking leviathans beneath. They periodically crested as they went for the bait, and at one impressive moment, one of the biggest crested a good three feet out of the water, and we had a moment of National Geographic scale epicness as three feet of teeth and power lunged out of the sea and crashed back down nearly hitting the cage.
I was SO close to getting a picture of that, but my camera went off about half a second too late, and so instead I have a picture of a fin, a bit of head, and an enormous shadowy body underneath churning water. Which is still completely badass.

Towards the last hour of being on water, it was sunny enough to feel quite warm when one was out of the wind, and so I stretched myself flat on my back, wedged between a bit of railing and the wall of the upper deck on a little-used walk ledge immediately in the sun. It was lovely. Once horizontal, the boat motion became soothing rather than upsetting, and I actually had a bit of a nap until they drew up the last of the divers, sorted out the suits and deck equipment, and headed back to shore.

Once we returned, the breakfast buffet had become an enormous tureen of hot vegetable soup and bread, and more tea, coffee, and juice. We ate, cold, damp, and smelling of sea and chummed water and watched the videos that had been taken during the trip. I did not purchase the video, because all images of me were where I was standing looking serious and contemplative, and every time I saw it I would know, deep down, that my look of sombre pondering was actually one of trying to maintain my state of non-vomiting.

The two hour ride back was lovely. I snagged a seat in the back, against the window, and spent a long, hot, sunny drive musing about my time here and feeling content and at peace with the world. I have seen a Great White Shark from two feet away. I have been to a TED conference. I feel awesome! Quintessential South African Experience the first, complete!

TRIUMPH!