Whale of a Time



Our shark

I was swimming in the bluest of blue water, the sort of blue that only exists in chemically treated toilet bowls, when suddenly the view was interrupted by a bus. Not a real bus, because that would be silly as buses move on roads not over Ningaloo Reef, but a bus that resembled a fish.  A really big fish.  A whale shark.  White dots over its flanks, fat fish swimming in its mouth and long ones hanging off its belly. Eyes that were no bigger than a fifty cent piece dwarfed by a massive head that slowly swayed as it sieved the water for plankton. I smiled, I sang, I danced as I swam as hard as I could to stay alongside it. The whale shark was mine, and it was as if we were surfing on the smoothest wave in the world.

I have wanted to swim with the whale sharks for years. Yesterday we all got our chance. Ivy had had a week of intensive snorkel school, and assured us she was ready because she’s seven now. We were shuttled out to the good ship Ocean Eco by Captain Ken along with an odd i.e. strange assortment of others and the Lintons. The crew was made up of impossibly bubbly and happy people. They were great with the kids and radiated genuine interest in all of them, and us!

Ivy, Oli, Sara & Ned under the sea

Once on board, the kids immediately got stuck into their allotted ration of two cans of soft drink. Noise levels rose in direct proportion with sugar levels until Dave began his whale shark speil; this was why we all had dropped a sizeable sum to be here. We were focussed and prepared to work as a team. Team 2 in fact. We and the Lintons made up one group, with Team 1 being everyone else including the grumpy lady with the very short grey hair and very bad bathers, and the American from Florida who volunteered in her local marine habitat. These two were already making an early running in the race to become the most annoying person on the trip over the age of 10.

Whale sharks are spotted by planes. The pilot radios Captain Ken, who motors off in pursuit. When in the shark’s vicinity, we get ready in our groups, and await Dave’s instructions to get into the water. From this point we were supposed to arrange ourselves in a line parallel to the shark behind Rachel. Rachel was attached to Ivy. I was attached to Ned. Oli was next to Sara. We would then all swim beside the shark in an orderly fashion and observe. Good in theory.

What actually happened was that we all jumped into the water, bunched around Rachel and smacked each other with our flippers as we jostled for the best position. The whale shark loomed into view and it was everyone for themselves. I never knew what happened to Ivy until I got back on the boat. She assured me she saw it. Oli ignored all warnings from Sara and powered off after the shark with his Thorpie in a blender freestyle stroke actually giving him some serious momentum. Sara cruised after Oli, then left him for the shark.  I hung on to Ned…briefly. After that, I figured, he can swim, he’s had lessons, he won’t hink (sink) immediately, and off I went, just me and that big fish.  

We got into the water with three different sharks on five occasions. The restrictions on the time you are allowed to swim with them are quite severe and we used 5 of our allotted 6 swims. Back at the camp that night we quickly found out that comparing experiences opened up a tendency in some to exaggerate. Ron had swum with an 8 metre shark that had almost swallowed him. The fact that Ron would take some swallowing, and admits he swims like a brick is beside the point.  We’d done it, all of us.

Ned and a stingray you can't quite see

Back on board, as we headed back to land, the battle for most annoying shipmate over 10 had hotted up. Corey the grey headed lady had been instructing Ned how to pour cordial, water first apparently. Hillary the American, had stopped swimming with the sharks after the third go so that she could make the most of lunch. Corey won with the clock counting down rapidly when she told Ned off again for showing initiative and defogging his own mask. A new, non-saggy set of bathers would have made a nice prize. Typically however, the Lintons met her the next day and she turned out to be a very well-travelled, interesting (in a weird way) person. This first impressions thing is killing us!

So that was whale sharking. Tick. I’d do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. I would happily stay here for a long time. We’ve been camping in Cape Range NP outside of Exmouth with the Lintons. Thanks for making us book Matt and Maggie. The stay has been extended so that Ned and Ivy can do Auskick again, and Oli can play another game of footy for the Exmouth Eagles. Once that’s done we move away from the coast for a while, heading to Karajini NP where to Ivy’s disgust, we will do a lot of hiking. For as Muhammed Ali would say, we done swum with de whale sharks, it now be time to run with de ‘roos.

H