Cheryl-Samantha Owen

Waiting for the Big Sharks to Show Up 

Our life on Aldabra revolves around the turning of the tides. Each evening we sit with tide tables, scheming plans for the next day in between bouts of discussing how we can inspire the world to care about plummeting shark populations, and determining what time we need to leave in order to make it over the reef. At low tide the water is too shallow for the boat to pass over the reef so we must wait for the tide to turn or catch it before the level drops too low. This morning we were up before dawn with all our equipment lining the shoreline ready to carry aboard, but we had miss-calculated, underestimated the depth and our weathered boatman said it was too late, “we will not be leaving for another six hours.”

Since arriving on the Atoll we have done a series of recci dives to get a feel for the underwater topography of the Atoll and the marine life in general. Our first dive was a fast paced 2knot drift dive in Pass Dubois, one of the smaller channels situated in between Picard and Grande Terre, which swept us into the opening of the Atoll’s azure lagoon. Aldabra itself consists of four islands encircling a tidal lagoon, Picard, Polymnie, Malabar and Grande Terre. Picard is where the Aldabra research station is located and where we wake up, go to sleep and are fed like royalty by the resident Seychellois chef, Grand Terre, as the name suggests, is the largest island.

Yesterday, we explored the main channel for the first time and with approximately 60% of the lagoon’s tidal flow passing through it at a rate of 6knots it is not the channel to get caught diving in on an outgoing tide, else the current might see me joining the lemurs in the next Madagascar film sequel!

So far the only shark characters that have joined us have been our friendly black tip reef, sicklefin lemon, and tawny nurse sharks, though they are extremely difficult to photograph and film as they are too scared to come in close enough. These species are inshore reef sharks and, as expected, we have been seeing them on most dives. In our quest to find the large shark species we have attached two baiting stations that are creating an odor corridor of fish smells irresistible to any shark that catches a whiff. Once a shark picks up the scent of chummed mackerels and tuna oil it will follow the ripe-scented slick with its extraordinary sensory system all the way back to the source – us and our perforated drum stuffed to the brim with delicacies, anchored to a boulder and suspended in the water column by a red buoy. One baiting station sits in the Pass Dubois channel and the second in a productive section on the outer edge reef. No large sharks have thus far found us or visa-versa, though in the main channel SOSF’s HD video cameraman Dan spotted a great hammerhead, which turned tail in terror at the sight of us.

The large potato bass with expressions akin to dopey puppy dogs, throw their weight around at the bait stations, and although they do their best, unsuccessfully, to get to the fish inside the drum they normally resort to attacking the flash strobes on my camera’s underwater housing. When we are not in the water we have a remotely operated camera sending images to a laptop; at the moment it is serving its apprenticeship with the blacktips in the shallows outside, but we hope to move it to deeper waters soon. There is something fishy in the air and it’s more than the smell of chum slick in our hair, but the SOSF team is determined to find and film whatever sharks are out there.

Visit http://www.saveourseas.com to learn more about SOSF, the marine environment and to read my daily blog of the Aldabra Expedition