Shark Week
As a young kid in the late 50’s (that’s 1950’s, not 1850’s) and growing up in a house with a view of the ocean, I recall the story of Robert Pamperin being killed by a great white shark, while skin diving for abalone off La Jolla Cove in 1959. The shark was estimated to be over 20’ long, but because his body was never found, stories began circulating that he might have faked his own death. Despite several eye-witness accounts, including one by Gerald Lehrer, his dive partner that day, Jim Stewart, the head diver at Scripps Institution of Oceanography and a shark attack victim himself, has doubts about the story.
Just off the coast of La Jolla, the ocean floor gradually slopes to a depth of about 120’ and then quickly plunges to a depth of 600’. About 30 miles offshore, the La Jolla Submarine Canyon drops down to a depth of 3600’.
Who knows what may be lurking in those dark and cold depths?
***
Like the swallows’ annual return to San Juan Capistrano, every summer an influx of tourists from Arizona and parts unknown arrive in San Diego. Along with this onslaught of tourists, large schools of Traikis semifasciata, or leopard sharks swim up to the warm and protective waters of La Jolla, clustering just off The Marine Room Restaurant. Feeding on worms, crabs, shrimp, fish eggs, and clams, they are not considered dangerous as they swim in the shallow water just beyond the surf zone.
Let me backup here and say these sharks are not completely harmless. I found a report from 1955 stating that someone got a nosebleed from one. Perhaps the swimmer had a nose similar in size and shape as a clam, and the shark mistook it for a quick afternoon snack?
Donning fins, mask, and snorkel, you can see these skittish 3-5’ slender-bodied species of the houndshark family swimming along the sandy bottom, to the safe enjoyment of everyone, except those with seafood-shaped noses.
***
During my days as an active scuba diver, I had several encounters with sharks – some intentional and others were not.
Chuck Nicklin, the former owner and my boss at the time of The Diving Locker, was an internationally recognized underwater cinematographer who had been hired by the BBC to do a documentary on sharks off Southern California. When Chuck was in the water filming, he would need a safety diver to make sure there was nothing sneaking up behind or below him. Since it was my day off on his scheduled day to shoot, he asked me if I wanted to go along.
“Sure,” I said a little too enthusiastically, swallowing a small lump in my throat.
“Great. We’re meeting at Geisler’s boat tomorrow morning at 7:00 o’clock. Bring your gear, and I’ll bring the bangsticks.”
Bangsticks are 6’ poles, similar to a broomstick, but with a rubber bungee on one end so you use it like an old fashioned pole spear. The opposite end has a stainless steel machined head designed to fit an explosive cartridge. Head sizes range from a .357 Magnum to a 12-gauge shotgun shell.
In normal use, the stick would be used to push off the sharks so they don’t come in too close, similar to the way you might push away a bully, albeit one with massively sharp teeth, a taste for blood and swimming directly at you at high speed. In its more protective ‘bang’ mode, the head is loaded with a shell that explodes on impact with the shark, rendering the toothy carnivore pissed off, but also quite helpless.
As we approached a spot in the open ocean about 10 miles off-shore, we began dumping in the contents of the three large rubber trash cans on the deck. Filled with fish guts and blood, the mixture was sure to attract any number of amphibious creatures interested in what was drifting in the water. After about 35 minutes, a large fin broke the surface of the calm Pacific.
“Here they come,” Rick, the owner/captain of the boat yelled. “Get ready to jump in.
“We’ll start off inside the cage, but if it looks safe, we’ll get out and swim freely with them,” Chuck added.
“Looks safe? We’re in the middle of nowhere swimming with sharks.” I thought.
With my heart beating rapidly, I hoped the pounding wouldn’t be confused by the shark as the vibrations of a fish in distress and signal it to take a closer look. Suiting up with my dive gear, I glued a look of confidence across my face as we entered the cool water. Spending a few short minutes in the protective barrier of the thick-steeled shark cage, we exited and drifted with the sharks.
Blue sharks are common off the coast of San Diego. With a typical length of 6’-10’ and weighing as much as 400 lbs., they can move quickly but are generally slow and lethargic. Blue sharks are also noted for large litters of 25 to over 100 pups.
These sharks feed primarily on smaller fish and squid although they can take larger prey, but are not known as a man-eater. Knowing that is one thing, but swimming with a large amount of fish blood and guts mixed in the water, was something else. It was possible for a mako, thresher, or most any type of shark to make an unwanted appearance.
Howard Hall, another renowned cinematographer and former employee of The Diving Locker was filming sharks one day when a blue grabbed Steve Earley, a diver/employee, by the top of his head. With the shark shaking the young kid like a ragdoll, Howard quickly swam over to the panic-stricken Steve and knocked the shark away with his camera, all the while calmly filming the entire episode. Steve ended up with a few minor cuts on his scalp, but his neoprene wetsuit hood was pierced in numerous places.
For the first 30 or so minutes I was in the water with Chuck, 60’ below the surface and safety of the boat, there were two to three sharks slowly swimming in and out of view in the 100’ visibility water. I hung just behind Chuck, unloaded bankstick firmly clutched in my hand with several explosive heads tucked into the glove of my left hand for what I hoped would be quick, but unneeded access.
The filming went off without a hitch, and towards the end of the hour long dive, there were seven sharks within a disturbing 360-degree view of us.
***
San Clemente Island, the southernmost of the Channel Islands off California, was acquired by the US Navy in the late 30’s and is off limits to civilian use. A 9300’ airstrip on the north end of the island is home to the Navy SEAL’s. Besides being a training facility for SEAL’s and commando raids, the south end of the island is used as a ship-to-shore live-firing range. Despite this, the many boat trips I took to dive off the waters surrounding the island remain as some of the best diving I’ve done. I recall several times when we’d have to move our position due to ordnance scheduled to fly overhead. There were also times when jet fighters would come screaming out of nowhere flying a few hundred feet off the water.
Onboard the Sand Dollar, a 65’ dive boat skippered by the late diving pioneer, Bill Johnston, we had just pulled up to our first spot off the island for our morning dive. With a splash, the anchor made a rapid descent to the ocean floor around 7:00 am on a Saturday. Wiping the sleep out of my bloodshot eyes, I peered over the port side. As the Divemaster of the trip, I was responsible for the safety of the 30 divers onboard.
“Hey, Bill,” I hollered up to the wheelhouse.
“Yeah, Andy, what’s up?”
“We need to move to a different location.”
“Why?”
“Look over the side.”
“Hmm. Yeah, I guess we do need to move.”
As Bill restarted the twin-diesel engines and winched up the anchor, I climbed up the eight rungs of the ladder leading to the wheelhouse, turned and made an announcement to everyone on the back of the boat.
“Can I get your attention?” I demanded of the divers, excitedly getting their gear together.
“Due to a hammerhead shark approximately 10’ long spotted right along our port side, we’re going to head to a new dive spot a few miles away.”
With a menacing look due to the odd shape of their head, hammerheads have a small mouth in relation to their body size. They generally feed on squid, octopus, crustaceans and even their young. Through 2013, there have been only 33 recorded attacks in history, with no fatalities.
The rest of the day’s diving continued without any problems or shark sightings, but I imagine most everyone was constantly looking over their shoulder every time they were in the water.
***
During another trip as a Divemaster onboard the Sand Dollar out at San Clemente, my partner and I were one of the first groups of divers in the water. Descending the cold water through a light kelp forest and with good visibility, I looked out and took in the scenery.
Off in the distance, there was a unique rock formation dropping off at a steep angle into the dark abyss. Hitting bottom at 95’ I noticed a graceful bat ray swimming among the strands of kelp rising from the ocean floor. And just beyond that, at the ends of the water's visibility, was a shark.
A big shark.
Looking at my dive buddy, I gave her a quick ‘thumbs up,' a signal meaning let’s go back up to the surface, not an ‘OK’ signal. With a quizzical look on her face she followed me to up and we clamored back on board the boat.
“Don’t let anyone else in the water,” I frantically told Terry, the second Divemaster. “There’s a shark in the water, and it’s not a blue.”
As the son of the owner, and general manager of the dive-program side of The Diving Locker, Terry got a panicked look on his face – there were other divers in the water.
“Everyone! Hold off getting ready,’ Terry called out to others getting ready to jump in. “There’s a shark in the water, and we’re going to move to another location.”
A nervous few minutes ensued while Terry and I waited for everyone to return safely to the boat after finishing their first dive.
To this day I’m unsure of the type of shark I saw, but my guess is it was a mako, which is the world’s fastest swimming shark, capable of speeds in short bursts of over 40mph. The other possibility is it was a juvenile great white. I just didn’t care to get close enough to find out.
***
The same week Dr. Dave Martin was attacked and killed by a great white estimated to be 17’ long while surfing off Solana Beach, CA in 2008, Mary and I bought our first kayaks and began our weekly ocean paddling. Since then we have made numerous ventures out to the La Jolla kelp beds and beyond, just a few miles south of the shark attack. The biggest danger we’ve faced so far is bruising our aging bodies as we load/unload the kayaks from the rooftop car-rack, or damaging our pride as we get dumped by a 2-3’ wave while paddling back in.
Happy swimming.