I swam with the sharks
Pauline Dikuelo | Wednesday April 9, 2025 16:00
By 5:30am, our group of twelve had gathered at the hotel reception at Premier Hotel Cutty Shark Scottburgh, buzzing with excitement as we prepared for shark cage diving 15 minutes’ drive from the hotel, a challenge that promised both thrill and an intimate encounter with nature’s most fearsome predators.
After a hurried change into our swimming gear, we were instructed to leave all personal belongings behind. The only things we truly cared about were our phones; after all, we needed proof that we had swum with the sharks.
“What’s the point of diving if there’s no proof?” one of us joked. However, we were quickly reassured that professional photographers would capture our brave exploits.
Shortly thereafter, we boarded a speedboat that cut through the restless waves of the Indian Ocean from Durban. Reality began to sink in, and fear started to take hold.
Our guide, known as 007, steered us on the eight-kilometre journey to our meeting point with the sharks.
Navigating the choppy waters proved to be a formidable challenge as the boat rocked violently. I found myself overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions. Fear gripped me at times, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes, praying that I wouldn’t fall into the unforgiving sea or become an easy target for a stray shark — fears all too familiar from dramatic movie scenarios.
Along the way, I heard one of us repeatedly asking the guides to stop the boat and turn back. By the time we reached the diving spot, most of us were ready to be done with the experience before it had even begun.
The guides stopped the speedboat at a location known to be frequented by playful dolphins, and the mood shifted. I wiped away the lingering traces of fear and discomfort, mustered a smile for the camera, and prepared to join the rest of the group despite the relentless seasickness that plagued many of us. To attract the sharks, the guide began throwing small fish into the water.
One of us asked why the cage was not fully covered, at least with glass. At that moment, I knew this was real.
As we awaited the first group’s turn to enter the safety of the cage, some of us gathered on the unstable deck, battling motion sickness and, for some, the urge to throw up.
Surprisingly, the first batch remained calm in the cage, shouting that it was far better than the violently rocking boat. I couldn't believe a word they said, especially when one of us on the boat kept shouting, 'What if pirates come to kidnap us? We are too far out! We need to go back!' This did nothing to ease my anxiety.
When the second group finally entered the cage, I was left with a mix of doubt and resolve. Everyone had ruled me out, convinced I would never summon the courage to jump. In my head, though, I kept questioning, “What’s the point? Why did I come here at all?”
With the reassuring assistance of our guide 007 and the encouragement of my companions, I took a deep breath and leaped into the cage.
The moment I hit the water, a rush of adrenaline coursed through me. Suspended in the cool embrace of the ocean, I recalled a video I had seen the previous day, a clip of a shark incident involving a tourist, even though it hadn’t happened in South Africa.
My heart pounded, and panic threatened to overtake me. However, the guide’s calm expertise soon eased my nerves. With firm, practiced movements, he helped me settle in the water and guided me to lower my head. And then, voilà! There they were: sharks gliding through the water in a seemingly choreographed, linear dance. It was a breathtaking spectacle, a moment of raw, indescribable beauty that forever altered my perception of nature’s power.
Our guide, 007, was also among the sharks, capturing videos and pictures of our unforgettable moments.
Although the journey had tested both body and spirit, that final moment with the sharks made every wave, every surge of panic, utterly worth it.