Ooof it's been a hot minute since I sat down to write for my blog. That's a clear sign that life has been moving quickly these past few months, mostly spent underwater (preferred) and hopping around from Utila, to Canada, to England and back to Utila - wow!
But it's been pretty incredible, and 2022 is off to a great start. Whilst I was away from Utila for the month of December, the dry spell of zero whale shark sightings all year was broken and a whopping 13 encounters were recorded in total! All whilst I was gone - classic.
Now, I've had my fair share of whale shark encounters, so I can't be too salty (pun intended). Though it would be magical if I were able to get in the water one last time with the biggest fish in the world before I leave Utila in June - oh yeah, did I mention that I'm back in Utila for another 5 months? My initial plan of coming back for 3 months has now extended to 9... are you surprised? No.
[Me, photobombing this whale shark in 2018]
This recent 'buzz' of whale shark excitement, along with being interviewed for a recent personal project by one of my interns, has got me reflecting upon my first whale shark encounter. It was back in June 2016 when I first came to Utila as a Marine Conservation Intern at WSORC. I was barely one week into my internship when word spread about a whale shark sighting one afternoon, so we quickly prepped a boat, grabbed our snorkel gear and headed out in the direction it was last seen.
I remember feeling really giddy and nervous. Mainly nervous for the disappointment of not seeing one, as it all sounded too good to be true. We searched, and searched, and searched. I strained my untrained eyes across the water in hope of a jumping fish or duck-diving bird in the distance, a sign that there's a whale shark feeding in the area. I probably had all my fingers and toes crossed too.
It's worth stating here that this was really a crash course into the world of marine encounters for me. Just one week before, I had arrived on the island with only 7 dives over the course of 6 years. The only marine life I could remember seeing until then was a starfish and a sea cucumber. This is because whenever I'm in a situation when adrenaline kicks in, like my Open Water course in Egypt or fun diving on the GBR after 2 years without a refresher course, I tend to forget a lot of the details. Adrenaline for me acts as a memory eraser, unfortunately. So this opportunity was actually quite intimidating, that the first shark I was to ever encounter would be the largest in the world.
Yet there I was, amongst my fellow excitable interns, legs shaking from anticipation and one hand on my fins ready to go at any second. Hours passed with no luck, and the sun was creeping closer to the horizon. My upright, tense posture had become a hunched over disappointed slump, and we started making our way back to the harbour.
Then, as every dramatic story goes, just as we were losing hope the Captain spotted something! It was all rather rushed and disorganised. We all jumped up and sat directly at the back of the boat, in position for an immediate entry into the water. I hadn't even seen what had been spotted. I wasn't sure what to expect. I didn't know how far away we were, how close the shark was, if there were birds darting down to feed, if there was a huge boil of jumping fish. And then: "Go, go, go!!"
[Getting ready to enter the water!]
I cringe to think back now as to how I would have flopped into the water like an uncoordinated seal, making a big splash (against guidelines). But no word of a lie, as soon as the bubbles cleared in front of my mask, there it was. There he was. Right in front of me, so close that I started sculling backwards to create more space between us.
I just hung there. And it took me several moments to remember the filming GoPro clasped in my hand - must get evidence! Then I focused on getting footage of this big spotty fish, and ended up watching it through the little screen on the back of the camera. It wasn't until I looked up again that I realised he was swimming away, and good luck to me if I was going to attempt to keep up with him!
I watched longingly as he disappeared into the blue, not knowing if the whole experience had lasted 10 seconds or 10 minutes. I tried to replay the scenes in my mind but could barely gather any memory. It was all so fleeting yet time had stood still. How?
That was our one and only jump. The shark didn't come back up to feed afterwards, which upon reflection I now wonder if we had disturbed it whilst feeding or maybe we just headed straight back due to disappearing light. I can't remember. Though I do remember sitting there afterwards in a wet heap on the floor, trying to grasp at the memories in absolute shock and awe of what had just happened. Had it really happened?
"Video or it didn't happen"...
[My first encounter on Instagram]
Well, safe to say that my footage accurately reflected the chaos that unfolded underwater. Starting with a lovely shot of my hands, then when the realisation kicks in I manage to fumble for the camera and point in the general direction of the whale shark before it swims away. Some professional level filming right there!
So my first encounter was quite a mess, but a beautiful mess at that. Since then, I have been lucky to encounter many, many more whale sharks. So much so that I don't have a count. And nowadays I don't always enter the water with them. Sometimes I prefer to watch from the boat's lookout, that way I can truly witness the size of them alongside our vessel, and I get to watch for everyone's post-encounter reactions as they lift their faces from the water: pure joy.
Although the adrenaline is definitely still there, I am now in control enough to enjoy the encounter and can even manage to pay enough attention to recall the size, gender, behaviour and get an ID shot! Progress.
I can't wait to share a short film with you all, created by Mary Pantengburg, one of our talented interns from last month who made this documentary to dive into the discussion of Utila's whale sharks. What do they mean to the community here? Why are sightings declining? What would happen if they disappeared? Food for thought.
In the meantime I wish you all the safe and respectful whale shark encounters! Save one for me :)
A.
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