Anchored in a small, calm bay a short distance from the main town on Nuka Hiva, Bear and I decided to go snorkeling in the heat of the afternoon. Karl nosed the dinghy near shore and Bear and I jumped out with our snorkel gear in tow and went ashore. I stashed a few things on the beach then we put on our snorkel gear and headed to the water. Just as we were about to step foot into the surf, Bear said, "Look Mom! A spiny dogfish!" Bear had experience catching spiny dogfish, a small type of shark found in the Pacific Northwest, on a rod in Alaska. I looked where he was pointing. Yep, that was a shark. Nope, not a spiny dogfish. It was a small (two and a half foot) black tip shark and it was in the surf just a few feet from shore with its dorsal fin sticking up out of the water.
Just then, four French sailors were launching their dinghy and saw our astonishment at the shark discovery. In their broken English they said, "No worry. Man here said no bite. Just black tip. No tiger shark in this bay." Then they launched away from shore.
Bear and I stood there alone, stunned and nervously laughing at our situation. We radioed to Eric on Oso and asked him to send Karl to retrieve us. As we stood on shore awaiting our ride to safety, it occurred to me that we were going to have to swim out to the dinghy, through the shark infested surf - and Bear was going to have to do it as well. Don't panic, don't panic. "OK Bear. Here's the deal. We have to swim out to the dinghy. That shark is small. It can't kill us. We're going to be fine. We'll just wait until Karl gets as close as he can and we'll put our flippers on and kick real hard out there. Our flippers will scare the shark away." A wary Bear, who suggested that perhaps its mother was around, kept it together - until it was time to launch. I had one foot in the water and he yells, "There it is!" And he was on the verge of tears. He scared the bee-geebies out of me but when I looked around I didn't see it. He said it wasn't there but it could be. I scolded him to not "cry wolf" and sternly said, "OK, let's go." And guess what? He came. We plunged into the water and scurried out to the dinghy. Bear scampered up the ladder with his fins still on - I've never seen him move so fast. We got in the dinghy, laughing and sighing.
Then Karl says, "Uh, I saw Bear's snorkel fall off and sink to the bottom." Bigger sigh. His reallly nice, new, expensive snorkel now sat in ten feet of shark infested, murky water. What do to.... I contemplated going back in for it but that thought passed quick as lightening. Seeing my frustration over its loss, brave Karl came to the rescue. Taking no time to ponder sharks, he jumped in with my mask and went in search of the lost snorkel. After five dives, I was about to call off the search when he came up with it! We cheered all the way back to Oso and made up a story about how a shark snatched the snorkel from Bear's head only to be wrestled away by Super Karl who, facing the jaws of death, kneed the beast in the stomach forcing him to cough up his bootie.
Chalk one up to experience!
Now I know from other cruisers' accounts of the area that sharks are very common here and if you refuse to swim with them, you won't be swimming much. But my first experience with them wasn't going to be alone on a beach, with only Bear, in murky water with one looming right on shore. I'm sure when we get to the Tuamotos in clear water with lots of other swimmers, we'll all be called "one who swims with sharks".
