The Best Shark Dive on the Planet

Fiji’s Beqa Lagoon is home to one of the most exciting shark diving Mecca’s in the world. Located off the southern tip of Viti Levu Island, it is possible to see 7 species of sharks on one dive in this tropical paradise. Our holiday in Fiji was not planned around diving, but this was the one dive that was an absolute must. After we surfaced, however, we realized one was just a tease. We chose Beqa Adventure Divers because we had met them and also knew about their involvement with the Shark Free Marina Initiative. For a small island nation, Fiji has 25 marinas signed on and is continuing the push. There are other dive operators, like anyplace, but we always like to dive with people who respect the ocean and are taking actions to protect it. Mike Neumann and his team, work as a well oiled machine from start to finish. They are a group of passionate people who love sharks and love the ocean. Each person we met had a smile on their face and made us feel like we were all old friends. There are not many places in the world that you can find this kind of experience, either topside or beneath the surface.

I had been dealing with a tooth issue that was causing pain in my left ear, but wanted to make the dives anyway. We loaded our gear and boarded our vessel. The entire dive crew is Fijian, which is a nice change from the typical expat contingent at most operations worldwide. A short boat ride to the site and it was go time. We geared up and slipped into the sea. I made it to about 20 ft before my ear started to feel like my head would explode and opted to hang out and work on clearing. I did this while watching a feeder work with a large group of white tip and black tip reef sharks. I was really excited because this was my first time seeing a white tip and they were high on my list. They have a very cute face and I sat for probably 30 minutes watching them weave in and out, cruising right over my head.

Duncan made the deeper first dive and watched as dozens of bull sharks weaved in and out. The stop there was quick due to depth and Mike put on a special show for Dunk after the other divers began to ascend. Duncan was still wide eyed during our surface interval, not believing what he had just seen. The second dive was set for 50 ft where the bull sharks would be hand fed. This is what we had been waiting for. I made my descent a bit slower and muscled through the pain. I had traveled this far and damn it I was going to see this spectacular underwater show. The dive team moved us into position and then the world, as we know it stopped.

Lined up in the best seats in the house we watched as at least 40 massive bull sharks were circling in front and above us, a site that would normally be the stuff of nightmares. By massive I mean 10-12 ft and fat. They breed some big healthy sharks in those waters. The biggest, fattest bull I have ever seen would be the Kate Moss of sharks in comparison to this brood. Similar in movement to the Caribbean reef shark feeds in the Bahamas, the animals move in one at a time to take a fish. There are hundreds of giant trevally and other fish in the mix, but the space where the feeder and sharks interact is like a beautifully choreographed ballet. Watching Rusi with the animals was by far one of the most mind-blowing things I have ever witnessed. To see an underwater tank of a shark and this man, a man on borrowed air and in their world, share a connection, still gives me goose bumps thinking about it. Each shark slowed down momentarily before delicately taking the fish from his hand. There definitely exists an understanding between 2 creatures with every reason to be mortal enemies. Humans are killing millions of sharks each year and most people are terrified of sharks. Here on this small reef, man and animal are moving together as one and stereotypes, fears and hate do not exist. I only looked up a few times and all I could see was sharks. There was no time to feel fear, because I was in absolute awe. Duncan and I spend a lot of time in the water with sharks, but there is nothing even close to what we saw, felt and experienced in Beqa. I am still having trouble wrapping my head around it.

Mike Neaumann and his team are incredibly professional and passionate. They have a system that allows divers to safely and respectfully watch these animals. $20.00 from each diver goes to the local village to help provide food and pay for schooling. This keeps the locals from fishing at the reef and allows the marine sanctuary to stay healthy. I cannot find the words to express our gratitude for this once in a lifetime experience but I will say next time we are doing at least 5 of these dives and bringing our cameras. Yes, that’s right, Duncan and I did not bring a single camera on the dive. We sat with unoccupied hands and saw first hand the most exhilarating underwater show on the planet. For more information please check out Fiji Sharks

Bula! Welcome to Island Paradise

Arriving under the cape of darkness, we had no idea how far away the ocean was or what it looked like. Falling asleep to the waves crashing against the shore was a reminder that something amazing was awaiting us at he first light of day. Waking up I was like a kid on Christmas morning, eager to open my present. As I walked to the window I was speechless, and we all know that doesn’t happen very often. Our hill was covered with lush palm trees as it sloped down to beach as far as the eye could see. Endless, flat, ocean stretched beyond the beach as lush jungle draped the coastline. I took a deep breath in. The air here is thick with freshness and the aroma that I imagine the color green should smell like. It is a mixture of morning dew, fresh cut grass and a newness that comes after the rain. Breathing it in feels like it is going right to your soul. It is healthy and pure; exactly what one needs after hours absorbing recycled plane air.



I headed downstairs, so I could step outside and Sydney the house pet was asleep on the deck. The dogs here are like the pot cakes in the Bahamas. Most do not have homes, roaming the jungle and roads for scraps. Sydney, however, is doing quite well and has a loving family and a steady flow of guests to spoil him. Some of the local expat contingent joke that the Queen must have lost a corgi on her visit to Fiji, as there are a lot of dogs with corgi ears and stature running around the island. No power or water, so I grabbed my book and returned to the porch. What a perfect place to relax. No Internet, no phone, no editing, no cameras, just relaxing.



When Duncan woke up and stumbled to the window with one eye open, I heard him mutter, “ holy shit.” I think the view was better than coffee for him. It is stunning, especially when you have no idea what to expect when the sun rises. Our host came up to check with us at 8 am. He apologized about the power, but assured us that it would be fixed that day. No worries, just like life in the Bahamas. Scott is an Aussie that has traveled the world and done some amazing things. He is big into surfing and bounces from Australia, to Hawaii to Fiji, not too bad. He gave us the run down of the house and where to find things and suggested places to checkout. He again complimented Duncan on his off road driving in our cheap and cheerful economy rental car.

After having fresh papaya for breakfast Parro, one of the staff, came up to see if we wanted coconuts. Yes, please. He took off his boots and shimmied up a massive palm tree. He posed for pictures and smiled the whole time, enjoying his captive audience. Duncan scurried to collect the coconuts as they plunked onto the ground. Like the guys doing conch in the Bahamas, he made it look so easy as he moved from coconut to coconut, cracking them with his machete. In a matter of seconds I was handed a fresh coconut overflowing with water. YUM. It dribbles down your face, but who cares. Standing barefoot on soft ground, overlooking the sea, with coconut water dripping down my chin-life is good. I asked Duncan if he would shimmy up the tree if we needed more coconuts? Will let you know if that happens and yes, there will be photos.



For our first adventure we decided to head into Sigatoka and explore the markets. The drive was exciting, as we were now getting a sense of where we were and all the treasures that had been hidden away in the night. The Fijians are the friendliest people I have ever met. They all greet you with a smile that makes you feel welcome in the country, their homes and their hearts. Children laughed as we shouted Bula in return. It makes your heart feel good and returns your faith in mankind. The faith that withers away after just a short time spent in Miami.

The town of Sigatoka is small, but very busy. The collection of stores includes handicraft shops, clothing stores, grocery stores, home goods & appliances, small cafes & restaurants, the massive fresh fruit & vegetable market and the bootleg music & video shops! We parked where Scott suggested and made our way down the street. It smells of curry, frangipani, fresh bread and laughter. The market is vibrant and stuffed from wall to wall with fresh produce. Bright purple eggplants, green limes and papayas, bowls of red and green chilies, yellow bananas and golden pineapples. Duncan and I paused for a moment to take it all in. There must be at least 100 tables, all with a different mix of edible delights. We wove our way through, toting our canvas shopping bag. We purchased pineapples, papayas, limes, coriander, curry powder, fresh ginger, garlic, onions, bananas, lettuce, eggplants and some type of green bean. We made a quick pop into the supermarket to pick up a few other things before venturing home.



The beach here is covered with crushed and broken pieces of coral. The surf break is approximately half a mile off shore with a shallow lagoon that is completely exposed at low tides. The little pockets of water that remain are teaming with life. Bright blue sea stars and tons of fish are making their homes and surviving in these little sanctuaries from the ebb and flow of the tides. Very little trash had washed up on the beach and the only people were locals out hand lining or collection urchins. Some have a mask, but most just swim around and grab the urchins. They have boats made of large bamboo logs strung together. These are called billibillis and they tow them behind to load fish onto. I have spent several mornings having my coffee as the sun wakes up the world, watching the men pull their boats out to sea. Life is simple here and people are happy. I think we get caught up in the rat race of technology and materialism, forgetting how simple things can make us happy.

Our host told us that all guests to Fiji are welcome at any resort. We decided to check out the Hideaway, which seemed more, our style than the lavish 5 star Outrigger. The Hideaway is nestled on a beautiful stretch of beach and has a very laid-back surfer vibe. There is a channel that leads out to one of the most dangerous surf breaks in Fiji with great snorkeling on either side. They have a coral propagation program, trying to repair the damage that has been done by the harvesting of coral for aquariums. Fiji “ live rock,” is big business and the Coral Coast is seeing its natural wonder readily disappear. On our first snorkel we found Nemo, well not exactly Nemo, but a similar species of anemone fish. I squealed and dragged Duncan over to see. I had no idea this was his first encounter with a Nemo in the wild!!!! They are the cutest fish and I could watch them for hours as they weave in and out of the tentacles. We also saw at least 6 different kinds of butterfly fish, another of my favorites. I think it is sweet that they are always in pairs. There is something reassuring about monogamy in the animal world, maybe because of its rarity.

Upon returning for several more snorkeling adventures we found Gill (another reference to Nemo…I know I am a dork) or should I say Moorish Idols. Yes, another squeal of excitement from this child at heart. They are such an elegant fish to watch; yet I am always reminded of Gill’s wit from the movie. Makes me smile and laugh every time. No less than 30 other species of fish, all within 50 meters of the beach.
Now that Duncan has had a run in with a spider, although less severe than mine, still unnerving, he understands my new distaste for the creatures. After spending a great deal of time in Australia, one expects that most critters that crawl or slithers are out to get you. Luckily in Fiji this is not the case. Duncan beckoned me to the bathroom after he had finished a lengthy excursion and I was boggled by what on earth I was being taken to see. Down in the toilet bowl I could just make out 2 huge furry legs. Uhhh…that’s enough. “It tickled my bum,” was all Duncan said. We later found out that it was a Huntsman and a sign of good luck to have one in your house. We just make sure to thoroughly check the toilet before placing our backsides anywhere near it.

Our next adventure was the nearby waterfalls. Scott gave us directions and we made our way down the winding and steep dirt road. As we arrived in the village we were greeted by a pack of dogs, all scrounging for snacks. A donation was made and our barefoot guide waited as we donned our sneakers for the trek. The path passes through a bit of farmland and crosses the river 9 times before the waterfall comes into view. Our guide explained local plants, tried to catch a fresh water eel with his machete and never flinched as the ground changed from mud to rocks and back. 3 of the dogs made the journey with us, bouncing along and playing in the water.

After a 25-minute hike we crossed a bridge and found this treasure. There were only 4 other people there and we were treated to a private experience. Our guide loved the Go Pro camera and eagerly climbed ahead to film us. He seemed really excited to snap photos and see us laugh and smile. He shredded coconut to feed the fish and little for us. We swam for a while enjoying the cool clear water before he announced we needed to jump off. He scurried up the rock face and turned back to watch us. Balanced precariously he grabbed my arm and hauled me up over the side. We swapped places and handed off the camera. He was going to film us jumping! Dunk and I delicately crept across the rocks to the jumping spot. Dunk, being a gentleman, offered to go first. 1,2,3….splash. My turn. 1, 2, 3…splash. Our guide was laughing and smiling. I assume because we were fairly awkward squirreling into position. This was confirmed when I watched the video. “ Now your turn,” I stated. He laughed. Once more coax and he was shimmying up the rock face to a higher spot than ours, of course. 1,2,3 and 2 thumbs up….splash. We all had a good laugh. I think our guide enjoyed his time with us as much as we enjoyed ours with him!




As we got into our car a woman from the village politely asked if she could hitch a ride to the main road. Hitching is the norm here, as most people, our host included, do not have cars. We happily welcomed her into our luxury mobile and off we went. Idol chitchat turned into an invite to stay in the village next time we are on the island. Our new friend was a volunteer teacher at the school in the village. The children do not go to the larger school down the road until they are older, but the village wants to provide the opportunity to learn. She offered her home to us and we felt again, the warm embrace of this country. We will definitely go stay when we return to Fiji. I think it would be an amazing experience to share the daily life and culture with a family. Our new friend gave us her contact information before thanking us and jumping out at her stop.

After one week in paradise my skin feels softer and definitely darker. The toxins ingested and absorbed in the city and on the plane have long sense evaporated. My belief in the power of living simply is fully intact and I have consumed more fruit than I have in the 8 weeks prior combined. Life is good in Fiji.

Time to be a Tourist

Duncan and I have managed to remain under the radar as tourists in Fiji. We have done our own tours, visited the markets when we wanted and explored outside the suggested snorkeling area. This is who we are. Crammed on a bus with 50 other sweaty and sunburned tourists is not our idea of a good day; so we did exactly that. We broke down and booked a day cruise. Captain Cook’s was the most advertised company, but with a passenger size of 100 we opted out of the cattle boat option. A review for Whale’s Tale raved about the service and reflected the only distasteful element was a drunken karaoke broad that had to be tied down, as to not fall overboard. I would consider that free entertainment. The other enticing elements were the visit to a private island and all your alcohol and meals included.

We made our way to Outrigger to be picked up and laughed as a massive coach bus pulled up. I felt as thought I needed a large brimmed sun hat and my fanny pack. We quickly boarded, grabbing a seat near the front, already plotting our immediate escape upon landing. We enjoyed the quiet ride as the lush countryside passed by our window. I think Duncan was pleased to not be avoiding potholes, pedestrians and the steady parade of livestock that we encountered on every drive. About 15 minutes into the hour-long ride our peaceful cruise was interrupted by long bus ride a proper Aussie Shelia sat directly behind me. Her assessment of life in Fiji was broken only when she threatened to slap her child, who was messing around with the camera. When that was not effective, she informed the child that she would be left on an island in Fiji. Well done. We hoped she wasn’t on our boat.

Arriving at the port we filtered off the bus. A man from Whale’s Tale was waiting and gathered us away from the masses. There were about 20 of us, as the 50 or so other passengers made their way to Captain Cook’s. Nice! We headed down the dock to find our vessel. The Whale’s Tale is a traditional old schooner that is a bit rough around the edges, but exactly what we were hoping for. We were greeted and pushed into the mess for breakfast and champagne, with champagne being the priority.







Our guide, announced with a grin that we would be cruising for 90 minutes,” Fiji time,” to our island. There we could snorkel, fish, kayak or lay in the sun. There would also be the option to walk around the island, which we did in approximately 3 minutes. Champagne and rum flowed, as guests began to lubricate themselves. Dunk and I took it easy because we wanted to get the full experience of the kava ceremony awaiting us on the island. A young honeymoon couple asked us if we had tried it, describing the experience as ingesting dirty water with the effect lasting only a few moments. The newly married guy was named chief of our group and offered the first bowl. Kava is a root that is dried and then ground up. It is said to relax the body and cure all sorts of random ailments. It also leaves your tongue and lips tingly from temporary numbness.



Around our group of 25, the bowls were passed with each person clapping once, saying bula, drinking and then the group clapping 3 times. You could tell that our guides were not just doing it as some ridiculous interpretation of the culture, but were proud of their heritage.



A guided snorkel followed the kava. People seemed impressed that Dunk and I had our own gear. We guessed that the provided gear would be from the “my first fin collection,” of which we are not fans. The guide floated on a pile of lifejackets incase someone became incapacitated or the rum kicked in. As we cruised out most of the coral was bleached and a bit ratty. Once in deeper water, Dunk and I began to freedive and explore the caves and crevices. I spotted at least 20 anemone fish on one area and 3 new species of butterfly fish that I had not seen. The guide showed us a type of coral that changed color when touched. Something I was amazed to see, but also thinking that a guide should not be molesting the already struggling corals. We popped up and down, wedging our faces into crevices to see what critters were hiding. I lost the group following a pair of butterfly fish I had not seen before. Happily we left the world behind as we submerged ourselves into the ocean. Time stops and nothing matters; the quiet stillness filled with life is intoxicating. The guide signaled that is was time for lunch. We slowly followed the group, in no rush to leave the quiet beauty of the sea.

At lunch we were approached by several other guests and asked about our diving, what we do and how we hold our breath. Apparently we were as exciting to watch as the fish and we had been completely oblivious to such observation. We happily chatted with our new friends and enjoyed the amazing spread of Fijian delights. After lunch we did a lap around the island just to see the whole thing and then returned to the water. Floating along and feeling the ocean against our skin as Duncan did his best Jack Sparrow impersonation asking, “ but why the rum was gone. “ Soon it was time to depart from our private island and board the love boat once again.



The ride home was filled with more of the guests approaching us and waiting for story time about our adventures. This was interrupted as the crew pulled out the guitars and sang for us. The rum flowed and even the captain was bringing Duncan drinks. Dunk was referred to as Scotland by the crew from the moment we stepped on the boat and within 5 minutes we no longer had to get our own drinks. Magically our glasses were always full, a dangerous luxury. A rendition of “ Brown eyed girl,” made my heart smile. This song follows us around the world and always makes me think of my dad; I am his brown-eyed girl. We laughed and sang along as we passed a chain of small islands on our way back to port. Duncan was recruited to solicit for tips and happily meandered to each guest and held out his “ crew appreciate jar.” It was very sweet and he was proud to help out these amazing people. Not once did the smiles leave the crew’s faces. Our final song was the anthem of Fiji, which they did acapella. The people of Fiji are beautiful and wow, can they sing!



We pulled up at the dock and the Captain Cook vessel was parallel to us on the next dock over. She is the same size vessel, but stuffed with 100 people. Not many of them had smiles on their face, while everyone on our boat had a warm glow. (most likely due to the copious amounts of rum) We made our way back to the bus, while the crew tried to fill a couple of to go cups for Scotland and his bride. Crammed back on the bus we waited, as there were more people than we started with and many of them not familiar. Finally about a dozen people realized that this was not the bus to their resort. We had 3 young Aussie blokes that were well lubricated with rum, sitting around us. We were invited to a party back at the resort. Before I knew it Dunk was involved in a male only contest of best feet, best hands, best elbows, before it went south as there was an awkward moment when the emcee announced best nipples as the next category while he thoroughly examined himself. The gig was up. Not sure how Dunk managed to join, but I believe the rum was a key factor. It did make the time pass quickly and we soon pulled up at the Outrigger. We had survived an entire day of being tourists and actually had an amazing time. We capped off the evening with some dinner and an impromptu Polynesian fire show. Always a random adventure.

Fiji: Our Journey to Paradise

Although I enjoy the rush of a city and the unseen energy that seems to move everything; my mind, body and soul can only tolerate so much noise, traffic and busy people. Sydney was amazing, but we were ready to bid her a fond adieu and once again embrace the island life that suits us best.

We arrived at the airport and immediately joined the outstretched line for Air Pacific. We entertained ourselves with some people watching and our usual banter. The line moved fairly quickly, despite the passport issues, forms not filled out and too much luggage that caused a few delays. The attendant gave us a deal on our overweight luggage. We did our best to trim it down, but missed by 5 kilos. Not too bad considering the amount of gear we carry.

We breezed through customs and security. Usually we have to pull camera cords and chargers out because they resemble a homemade bomb. Monty has even been pulled out and scanned separately, but nothing this go. We looked at each other a little shocked; we get nervous when things go that smoothly during the airport portion of the trip. We found some comfy chairs and I enjoyed a Pure Blonde, while my pure blonde shopped for a new watch in Duty Free. I was impressed when he came back with a lovely dive watch that he had selected in less than 20 minutes. This is quite an amazing feat for the Dunkster. His usually shopping techniques are very thorough.



As we found our gate, a massive 2 level plane was pulled up. Wow, must be going on to LAX after we stop in Fiji. We were both anxious to get on the plane and begin our first real vacation. I know, I know, we travel a lot. This is true, but it is always work or work related. This is our first trip together that is just about us exploring a new place. There is no schedule, no plan, and no underwater camera housings. We found our seats near the back and I kid you not there were 4 babies strategically placed to our 4 sides. There was however an empty seat to my left. Last time we flew to Fiji we had a guy that chugged 5 beers and 3 double whiskeys before passing out for 10 hours. We had to climb over him to get into the isle. One flight attendant hit him pretty hard in attempt to wake him, but he was out cold. Ah the adventures of travel. Monty luxuriated in the spare seat when he was not acting my pillow.



The flight was fairly quick, a mere 4 hours. This breaks down to a meal, 2 glasses of wine, part of a movie (Yogi Bear) and a 2-hour nap for me. There was only mild screaming from the strategically placed babies. We arrived in Nadi and were excited that this trip we would be staying longer than a 5 hour explore. As we made our way through customs we were greeted by lots of smiling faces and everyone yelling “ Bula!” This is hello, good morning, good evening…etc in Fiji. We headed to the rental car place where it took nearly 30 minutes to get our car. Yep, back on island time.We were anxious to get on the road, as we knew it was going to be a bit of a drive. Our trusty steed was a small Toyota that would surely be put through her paces. Had to stop and get fuel and grabbed a few snacks. Now we were officially on our way.

We wove through villages that became further and further apart, as the jungle consumed more space. It is quite exciting driving down a rather bumpy and narrow road when you have absolutely no idea where you are or where you are going. We passed people walking, dogs, cattle, horses and avoided taxis that came flying around corners with 2 wheels on our side of the road. It was Sunday and most of the villages were holding a church service with people sat in circles in small huts. We could hear singing and laughing as we passed. The air is heavy with freshness and nature. It smells of flowers, fresh cut grass and the sea. You feel invigorated and it seemed to cleanse us of the toxic plane air you ingest when flying. The road kept winding as kilometers passed. Our directions said the turn for our house was approximately 5 minutes past the Outrigger Resort. We made our way through several roundabouts and only made one wrong guess as to which road was the one we were suppose to continue on. Not too bad. The last 5K seemed to take forever as we watched the numbers slowly approach our destination. We made our turn and stopped as we faced a massive hill.

We had opted not to get the 4WD because were not planning any jungle treks. Now with a steep unpaved track in front of us we realized the 4WD option might have been a more suitable plan. Ah well, we were there now. Dunk has quite a bit of off road experience, so he took off with a great big grin on his face. There were massive rocks and ruts where the road had washed away. We passed our first house and just kept going. Sydney, the island dog that we recognized from the blog, came to greet us. We continued upward passing 2 more houses. We figured that we could always come back down if we needed to, but we had to keep our momentum. As we neared the crest of what seemed like an endless hill, our host was standing with a flashlight. As we pulled through the gates we stopped and both took a breath. I am pretty sure were both held ours for most of the ascent.

Scott, the property owner greeted us and expressed how impressed he was with Dunk’s driving. I think Dunk was relieved, but impressed as well. He then explained that the power was out and handed us some flashlights. Ah island life!! Made our way into the house and found some extra lanterns. He gave us the nickel tour and chatted for a bit. We would get better acquainted in the morning, as it was already after 10 pm. We found a large beer and a papaya in the fridge! Excellent. We had finally made it. High on a hilltop, in the middle of the jungle, we had found our little piece of paradise. We fell asleep listening to waves crash against the beach and a lovely breeze coming through the windows. Bula Fiji!

What's Up in the Land Down Under

As you have probably guessed from my previous entry, Monkey Mia is tucked away in a pretty remote part of the world. Being part of the Shark Bay World Heritage Site, this area has been minimally impacted by human intrusion. Animals are protected, the natural resources are valued and it remains pristine. The sea grass beds of Shark Bay are the heart of a very complex ecosystem that has an incredible amount of diversity. The human condition has not intoxicated the area, so it is possible to study these animals in a place that is still raw and wild.

Monkey Mia has put itself on the map for the beach dolphins that come in each morning to feed. This activity has been drawing tourists from around the world for over 30 years. In the beginning people could buy a small bucket of fish and feed the dolphins as they liked. Unfortunately this caused the female beach dolphins to neglect their calves and spend most of their time begging for food. Nicky, named for the “ nick” in her dorsal fin, remains the biggest beggar and has lost 7 of her 8 calves. She was also, on average, biting 6 people a day when the feeds were not regulated. Today the dolphin feeds are guided and monitored by the Department of Conservation (DEC) rangers. They ensure a safe interaction between human and animal, as well as monitoring the behaviors of the dolphins. I prefer sharks to dolphins any day, but I must admit having a wild dolphin cruise through to say hello when you walk the beach at 11 pm is pretty incredible.



Our first crew, myself included, was there to film some of the research being done as part of curriculum based series of videos for middle and high school students. This unique ecosystem has catalyzed a dynamic range of studies from sea snakes to tiger sharks. All the organisms within the system affect one another directly and indirectly. It is possible to specify how and what is interacting within the system, with the possibilities for research being endless. Mike Heithaus is the host for the videos and his energy and passion are contagious. There is never a dull moment and the science comes alive. Pat Greene, who first worked with Mike as an assistant in Shark Bay and then filming the Critter Cam series, was there as the topside shooter and producer. Many scientists and researchers chose to do so because they are not exactly social butterflies. Mike, however, has an innate ability to connect the research to the average person and get them interested and even excited. This connection is crucial in spreading awareness about the current conditions of our oceans. I have been fortunate to work with Mike on a few occasions and he never fails to make the hard work pale in comparison to the adventure.

The video work included the deployment of spot tags on large tiger sharks, capturing and tagging turtles and rays, as well as deploying cameras to assess fish predation in the sea grass beds. The weather was not on our side, so every moment was precious. The long days started at 4:30 for me, usually joined by Derek in the caravan. Took me nearly 2 weeks to sleep past 5 am. It gave me the chance to enjoy the beach dolphins and do some yoga before the workday began. At this point is has been 100 degrees or higher every day. By 10 am the A/C in the main caravan is overrun and the sweat fest begins. My first sleeping area was a bunk in an annex built next to a caravan with only a small fan for airflow. Ah field work. No worries, life is not bad when you are in Monkey Mia and better the heat than snow and freezing temps.

The main caravan, which also served as a bedroom the first time I came to Shark Bay, is the lounge, office, supply shed, kitchen and dinning area. It is older than any person working and living there and has strategically placed duct tape and zip ties holding it together. The old fridge is now dry storage and items are squirreled away in the bathroom (now a closet) and in every cupboard and space possible. The gas stove is temperamental with the flames either on full or off, which makes cooking eggs an adventure. The oven only has one row of flames, so it is necessary to rotate whatever is cooking every 5 minutes or so. Despite this I managed to make a very yummy vegan chocolate cake, peanut butter cookies, naan bread and dinner rolls. The air conditioner was overpowered by about 10 am each morning as we saw temperatures over 100 almost everyday. At this point you just accept that no matter what you are doing inside or out there will be sweat. It is one of those places that being on the water is where you want to be.

The field station is located on the backside of the resort in the caravan area. The restrooms are part of the resort, so having to pee at 3 am is really a mission. There is only one set that has freshwater with the others having bore (salt & fresh mix) water, a pleasant surprise when you brush your teeth the first time. The beds are stashed amongst different caravans, so where you sleep and with whom may change during the course of a visit. As I mentioned above, my first bed was a bunk in an annex with no air conditioning and a fan that worked when it felt like it. I know this seems like a lot of issues and maybe complaints, but I want to highlight how none if this matters when you step outside and see the paradise that is at your doorstep. As a field researcher life is not glamorous, but you experience things that no amount of money could buy.

The fleet of boats has changed since my first trip in 2006. Sadly the high salinity in Shark Bay is constantly eating boats and motors, so they do not last very long. Suckerfish has been replaced by Cuvier (tiger shark) and Hellafish has been replaced by Caretta (green turtle). The customized Blowfish II, designed for work in Shark Bay, has replaced Blowfish. The high salinity within the bay reeks havoc on boats, trailers and anything else that spends anytime in it or near it. We helped Derek change the throttle cables on Blowfish (actually pretty interesting) and then she was ready for her maiden voyage of the season. I was pretty excited to take her for a test run, as Derek had to be on the other boat for some filming. It has been a while since I have been able to drive a boat and it was awesome!! She really is lovely to drive, with a lot of power and excellent handling. This was a nice change from Caretta, which had been our vessel while we waited for parts. Caretta gave up on us twice and we had to get towed to shore.



The priority for our time here is getting satellite tags on large tiger sharks. It is known that they leave the bay in the winter, but numbers are dropping each year. The tags will hopefully tell us where they are going and if they are being fished out. This highlights the importance of not only protecting an area, but a species, as they are migratory and most often leave the sanctuaries or protected areas. Proving this with data collected from satellites strengthens the movement to expand marine protected areas to a much larger scale globally.

The sharks are caught using the drum line method. This setup has a baited hook attached to a set of floats with a longer length of line attached to an anchor that sits on the bottom. This allows the shark to swim freely in a circle and not tangle itself, reducing the stress on the animal. The lines soak for a short period of time and then it’s SHARK TIME. Running the lines is very exciting because you never know what you are going to get. Once we have a shark on the line it is important to handle the animal quickly and efficiently to reduce stress. The animal is brought beside the boat, so that it can continue to swim and breathe. The shark’s length is measured, a DNA sample is taken by snipping a small piece of the dorsal fin, a tag is inserted and blood is taken. The hook is removed and the animal is released.




We also busy catching turtles and rays. The method of capture is slightly different, but the data collected is the same. Rays are caught in the shallows using a weighted net that is released from the boat in a massive circle. This reduces the area the animal can move and people jump in with smaller dip nets to secure it.


Most of the work is done in the water if possible, again to reduce the stress on the animal.



In order to catch the turtles someone must dive off the bow of the boat and catch them Yes, that is what I said. A person rides the bow of the boat as it cruises along and looks for turtles. When one is spotted the jumper directs the boat driver, as the wear the turtle is moving. This becomes an exciting ride with the boat doing donuts, speeding up and slowing down. I love being the driver when someone is turtling. It is challenging, but so much fun. An excuse to drive crazy! Once the turtle slows a bit the person dives in and grabs them behind the head and swims them to the surface. This is a lot easier said than done. It takes a great deal of practice and there are lots of dirt darts into the sand and belly flops. The turtle is brought on the boat and the data is collected before releasing them.



Long days, no Internet or phone, 100 degree temperatures with no air conditioning would be enough to deter most of the population off, no matter how beautiful the location is. It does take a special type of person to not only tolerate less than ideal conditions, but to make it their life for weeks or months on end. They may enjoy a day or two, but when it gets to the down and dirty they crumble. For me personally, I have a long list of reasons that make any challenges or discomfort disappear. 5 am setting of shark lines is not a problem when you know that within a few hours you are going to be handling a 3m tiger shark. Watching the sunrise as dolphins ride the bow of your boat, watching dugongs cruise through the shallows, catching 300lb loggerhead turtles and seeing sea snakes floating at the surface while they digest a fish; yes these are the moments that make it a life changing experience.
Hiking to the top of a red sand cliff and then surfing down to crystal clear water, spotting a manta ray effortlessly swimming by, catching a tagging a species of ray or shark that you have never seen, knowing that the data you collect is helping not on the species, but the oceans in general. Seeing the sky painted the most brilliant reds and purples as you sip a ice cold beer, having a dolphin swim to the boat and beg for food, stars filling the night sky because there is no light pollution and sharing all these moments with a small group of incredible people. As I am writing this I am vividly remembering the smells and the sites of this place. The way the ocean air feels against your skin as you are breaking through the waves. The way a shark’s skin feels and the color of their eyes. The endless postcard moments are yours forever. This is why I don’t care about air conditioning, an uncomfortable mattress or salty showers. I guess I am lucky because if everyone could do it the opportunity would not be as unique.

Airports, Aussies & Alcohol

As the arid landscape slips past, the girl next to me is carefully applying fake eyelashes from her collection of at least a dozen. She slips out of flip-flops and into stilettos before disembarking the bus at a road stop for our lunch break. Our chariot is a Greyhound with 2 elder Aussies blokes taking turns at the wheel and as storytellers on the microphone. I am on my way to Monkey Mia and it is day 4 of my expedition. (It was a trip, but quickly developed into something far more challenging)
My journey began Tuesday morning at 4:30 am while I frantically packed for my 6:00 am departure. Reading 17 on the thermometer forced me to slip on sneakers and stow my flip-flops. It would just until I got inside the airport I convinced myself. Mom took me to Portsmouth where I grabbed the bus to Logan. The bus ride was peaceful, no cell phones please. I feel like in American society today this is worst than burning the flag. We were detoured due to heavy traffic, but a back road sent us past 6 deer on a frozen lake. I do believe an appropriate way to bid New England farewell.
Once in Boston the adventure truly began. I composed myself, although I knew I was going to be a sweaty mess, disheveled and looking as though I had run up several flights of stairs wearing a heavy winter jacket and carrying a large sack of potatoes. I rolled my entourage of 4 bags up to the self-check and the computer beeped at me with each failed attempt to get my boarding pass. Oh shit. I will be honest, leaving this time felt a little off. We had just put Maggie, our beloved yellow lab down on Friday and as a family we were all struggling a bit. Duncan called from the Bob Barker and was able to say goodbye over speakerphone. Not the week I had planned on having at home. I really felt bad for leaving and wondered if it was the right thing to do.
A Delta assistant informed me I would need to go to the counter. Mind you, I had attempted to do this in the first place and was told I needed to self-check in. Once there I slung my bags onto the scale, wincing. The first was one was clear, but the Pelican case was giving me the stink eye, knowing full well it would tip the scale. 67 lbs and that will be $150.00. YOWZA. I asked her why the charge. I was flying Virgin across the Pacific and their limit was 2 bags up to 70 lbs each. Does not matter she insisted. I asked kindly if she could check for me because in the past it had been the baggage limits for the carrier you were going international with. “ I have been working here 27 years and I think I know how it works.” Anxious to prove me wrong she called the manager over. He informed her that I, in fact, was correct and this was confirmed by another coworker. I could literally see the steam coming out of her ears. 27 years, but maybe time for a refresher course? I thanked her and my smile was reciprocated with a glare. Glad to see I was flying the friendly skies.
Now 3 hours to kill. No worries, due to heavy complaint, Logan now has free wireless Internet. I am terribly behind on work, as I spent most of the prior week lying on the floor with a cancer-ridden dog that still continued to wag her tail. I kept thinking of that as my adventure continued and each step became more challenging than the last. No matter what if you can keep wagging your tail, things will be better. Easier said than done.
My flight from Boston to Minneapolis was over quickly, as I slept the entire way. Another quick hop to LAX and then things started to get interesting. The flight was delayed and I fell asleep waiting next to the gate. A nice lady woke me up, so that I could board the plane. I really wasn’t paying attention to the time or the delay; just wondering how much of the 15 hour flight I would be able to sleep. My vegetarian in flight meals weren’t bad and I watched parts of several movies as I moved in and out of sleep. As we were being told to put our seats in the upright position I decided to pull out my itinerary and see how much of a layover I had. It was then that I discovered my connecting flight had already left. I asked the stewardess and she said ground crew would be able to help. I disembarked and all Hell broke lose. The baggage claim at Sydney airport might be one of the most manic places on earth. With no logical flow of traffic, it is complete chaos.
I waited patiently as both my cases came flying off the shoot and onto the belt I managed to score a cart with a great white shark on it. I felt that maybe the situation was improving; I was wrong. I turned around and saw one of my travel companions and said I would be late getting into Perth. No worries there flight was delayed as well. See you on the other side. Now that I had my bags I was at the back of a line of what seemed like millions of people. I found an official looking bloke and asked if there was a possibility if moving ahead as I needed to catch a flight because I had already missed my first one. He pointed to a line and I quickly moved through. No questions asked by the customs agent just a stamp and on my way. This is when I entered the gauntlet. When you clear customs you are dumped into a whirlpool of families, drivers and worn out travelers. I wove my way through trying to be polite as I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. I am sure I hit at least one small child, but it was such a blur. I just needed to get to the Virgin Domestic travel counter on the opposite end of approximately 150 people crammed in a small space like cattle. No problem.
At the counter I was informed the fastest way to Perth was via Melbourne, not a direct flight? Sure, just get me there. I was handed my bus ticket and whisked off across town (probably not across town, but it seemed like it) to the domestic airport. The flight was a blur and I am not even sure how long I was in Melbourne or that we even landed there.
I arrived in Perth 4 hours later than planned a sweaty mess. It is summer in Australia and about 90 degrees by 8:00 am, of you were wondering. As I moved to the baggage carousel I heard the words of doom over the intercom. Jillian Morris please come to the baggage claim area. Oh boy. So my one suitcase has decided to spend some extra time in Sydney. Why not? I tried to explain to the woman where I was staying at Monkey Mia, in a research trailer with no real address. Monkey Mia, although a tourist resort, remains under the radar for many Aussies. She made some calls and it was arranged to have my case flown up and delivered the next day. No worries the camera housing was with me and that was my main concern.
Now to head to Avis to meet my road trip buddies. I checked in at the desk and was told they had already picked up the car. Hmm… well maybe they were out getting supplies and would be back? I had seen them in Sydney, so they knew I was going to be delayed. I went to buy a phone card. No luck, so had to get a refund. Collect calls were also not working. As I stood there a little overwhelmed, the clerk from Avis handed me a note.
Sorry Jillian we had to leave. Here is Derek’s number.
The tears of exhaustion poured. I called Derek. They had left an hour ago. Time to get a hotel and book a bus trip north. I found a cab and made my way to the only hotel I know in Perth. I approached the desk worn and weathered. The desk agent informed me that they were fully booked, but suggested the hotel across the street. He called for me and confirmed they had a room, but I would have to get online to book it. Okay done. Now time to lug my 70 lb pelican case across the street to my home for the night. The concierge was lovely and gave me a coupon for a complimentary drink. I am sure I looked as though I would need several. I called the airline and told them I would be in Perth and they said my bag would be delivered that evening.

Time for some food. I wandered downstairs and enjoyed my free glass of wine and hit the IGA. Tim Tams, Jatz and party mix. For those of you who are not aware of these items then you have not truly lived. Tim Tams are the world’s most amazing chocolate cookie. Jatz are the world’s most delicious crackers with nothing even close to comparable in the states. Party mix is an array of delicious gummy candies retreated to my room to feast of my Aussie dinner. Yes, that’s right! Cookies, crackers and candy for dinner! I woke up at 11 pm and went downstairs to retrieve my case! Change of clothes and my toothbrush! YAY!
A long shower and a comfy bed were exactly what I needed. I set the alarm and was asleep before my head hit the pillow. Unfortunately the clock was off an hour so my leisurely pre alarm wake up turned into a panicked swirl of packing and trying to get massive cases out the door. I had ordered a taxi, but I was advised not to wait outside by the new concierge, a far less agreeable bloke. Another guest walked out and took my cab. I waited another 15 minutes and asked if I should go try and grab one. He suggested that was best. I flagged down a taxi dropping guests off. We headed to the bus terminal. When we arrived it was empty. I raced upstairs, but everything was closed. Here we go again. A nice young guy called greyhound for me, but they were not open. I found a security guard who said I was in the wrong place. Need to catch my bus at the train terminal. Here come the tears again. I jumped back in the cab and we raced to the correct location. Sam, my taxi driver, let me use his cell to call Derek and tell him I might not make my bus. We got to the station and I sprinted to the bus, sweaty, makeup smeared and exasperated. “ She be right,” said the old gent with his socks pulled to his knees. “Take a breath you are all set.” I ran back to the cab and grabbed my bags. Paid Sam and got his information. Thank you Sam. You made sure I made my bus and WOW what a ride! I think we put that van on 2 wheels.

And so began the 11 hour bus trek north. A cyclone was dropping buckets of rain and many of the roads were closing due to flash floods. The driver said we would drive north as far as we can and see what happened. This we did. Met a Canadian girl headed for Ningaloo to look for work as an instructor. Had a nice chat and got some reading down. Made a few stops along the way. More Jatz and party mix for lunch! Arrived at the renowned Overlander Roadhouse at 5:30pm and watched as my crew pulled in and stepped out of the car! I went inside and then came out to find my bags gone. The drive said no worries I sent them with the driver to Monkey Mia. WHAT??? I thought they were messing with me! No worries….we can grab them there. Luckily enough the guy had not left and we managed to squeeze my gear into the rental car and the 4 of us headed out for the last 155k of the journey. I arrived to a big hug from Derek and an ice-cold Aussie beer. 4 days, 6 airports, 2 buses, a cab, a rental car and I made it. Monkey Mia is a piece of Heaven on Earth and definitely worth the journey. If it had been an easy trip I would have nothing to write about.

Tiger Beach: Paradise Worth Protecting DeeperBlue.com

Check out my article on DeeperBlue

Tiger Beach is a shark diving Mecca that draws scientists, film crews & divers from across the globe. If you have never slipped beneath the surface at this underwater paradise, it should definitely be on your, “Bucket List.” Thankfully, the white sand here is free of beach chairs or umbrella-adorned drinks, and instead offers massive apex predators. The potential for encounters that are up-close and personal will far exceed anything you could have imagined. I have spent a great deal of time at this adveturous location and it remains one of my favorite places on the planet. Afterall, it was while diving at Tiger Beach that I made a dead fish talk and subsequently my fiancé and I were hooked! We have been together ever since.

Many of the female tiger sharks at, “The Beach,” have become celebrities because they are seen year after year. Emma, a big beauty, even has her own Face Book page. They have become regulars on Discovery’s Shark Week and countless other television programs and documentaries. The shallow depth and aquarium-like visibility make this an ideal location for filming and photographing these charismatic mega-fauna. Scientists and researchers are also to trying to better understand these animals as a means of protecting their future survival.

There is also a reliable troop of lemon sharks that inhabit these waters; numbering anywhere from 15 to 30, when you visit you will find them gathering around the boat. The lemons are more interested in the food than the tigers and seem oblivious to divers at most times. I have also seen Caribbean reef sharks and nurse sharks onsite, with the occasional appearance by a great hammerhead!! Those are my favourite trips. The cast of characters is dynamic, making each trip a unique experience.

Despite the global popularity and love for this site, it remains an unprotected region. It is an open target for sport fisherman seeking out world records, commercial fishing boats weekend warriors heading across from Florida. Sadly, some people have no respect for sharks, only a skewed perception of their purpose or a lack of the fundamental understanding that we are all interconnected. On my last trip, we encountered a well-known female shark that looked like she had been hooked sometime in the last year. She had clearly suffered damage to the right side of her jaw and was extremely skittish. This is an unfortunate manifestation of the often-misguided battle we humans wage against these vital animals. However, resilience can only take you so far. This shark also appeared much skinnier than most of the other regular females. She never even came close to the cage until all the divers were out of the water. Tiger sharks are known to be cautious, but curious, eventually getting close enough that pictures or footage are just a grey/brown blur. So, it is truly devastating to see such a magnificent creature reduced to a fearful shadow of itself. With one single heartless act, humans have the capacity to remove the power and beauty of an animal that has otherwise survived millions of years unaffected.

On my most recent trip to Tiger Beach, I was acting as a private dive guide for "The Undertaker" (a professional wrestler) and his son. It was fascinating to see a man who has lived in an arena with larger-than-life qualities get as excited as a kid on Christmas morning, smiling so much he can hardly keep his regulator in place. At 6’8, even a humongous wrestler felt small next to some of the 8-foot long lemon sharks that spent the day with us. I am pretty confident not many other things have ever made him feel so much smaller. "The Undertaker” asked great questions and spoke with terrific enthusiasm about his very first shark encounter, which he experienced while diving in Fiji. He ardently listened to me speak about the plight of sharks and about safe seafood choices, recycling and marine protected areas. I would like to believe that he is now acting as an advocate for these animals. I am also encouraged that due to their positive experience at Tiger Beach his son is also likely spreading the message to his friends and inspiring them to go see sharks up close.

As a dive guide, videographer and shark naturalist, I have been blessed to share these incredible animals with people first-hand and to capture images that inspire compassion the world over. It is extremely rewarding and I hope that I am able to do so for many years to come. Connecting people with sharks is necessary for the future of their survival, and ultimately ours too. The Bahamas and Tiger Beach are now facing the threat of a shark-finning corporation moving into their waters. Bahamians, the Bahamas National Trust, dive operators, scientists and conservation groups are uniting to prevent would be a complete atrocity and degradation of the oceans in this region. It is incredible to see so many diverse groups collaborating and working towards a common goal. I hope that our voices and actions will be strong enough to save these sharks!