Shark Hunting

Whale Sharks. The largest fish in the world. The third largest beast in the ocean coming in after whales and the giant squid. They can measure up to 60 feet in length and can reach a weight of almost 81,500 lb., or the equivalent of over 40 Volkswagon Beetles put together. Their appearance becomes even more terrifying if you get a decent look at the 350 rows of tiny teeth down their throat, ideal for snacking on their favorite dinner- plankton. That's right- these giants are vegetarians, although the sheer sight of them swimming up along side of you can set your heartbeat up a few gears.

Since I was a child, I have been fascinated, and terrified, of sharks. During Shark Week on The Discovery Channel, I would stay up until 4:00 AM just to know the most dangerous place to be attacked by a shark. That's why, when I was flipping through my lonely planet guide book a few weeks before my vacation, I decided I had to include a trip to swim with the Whale Sharks in Donsol to take the first step in overcoming my debilitating fear of sharks and start to respect them as glorious animals.

I met my guides from Bicol Adventures, Ray and Mercy, at six o'clock in the morning. With plenty of money this time, we made a stop in the town center to pick up a shark enthusiast traveler from England who has been living in Cambodia for the past four months running a town house called The Monkey Republic. With everyone set, a tank full of gas, and eager minds we set off on the hour and a half long journey to the town of Donsol.

The ride there was a pictur- esque jungle trek. Speeding through winding turns and verdant scenes, there was hardly any traffic to be encountered. This was not a sleepy road, however, as hundreds of bungalows and small homes dotted the street side with families working outside or children marching off to school. Some homes were situated in clearly wet fields and so they rested on top of stilts to keep the inside dry. Too excited to sleep, I watched these fleeting scenes of Filipino life scurry by me.

Only a decade ago, Donsol was a sleepy fishing village without much claim to the world. In 1998, some foreign tourists spotted these blue-grey behemoths and overnight, the town was in the international spot light. Unfortunately, poachers got wind of this gathering and arrived before the tourists could. Immediately, restrictions were put on the hunting of these Whale Sharks, and ecotourism ever since has protected their migration to Donsol. When we arrived in town, clearly not much had changed. There is only one bridge in the city wide enough for only one car to cross at a time. When we arrived, there was some traffic jam holding us up for about ten minutes. With the congestion cleared away, we made our way down the road to the Donsol Visitor Center.

I casually asked my guide, after noticing several painting of Whale Sharks on the town walls, if the most residents had swum with the Butanding, the local word for Whale Shark. She responded that most people here didn't even know what a Butanding was.

Our guide arranged a boat for us, with four other visitors to share the exper- ience, and most import- antly, to share the cost. And after only ten minutes of waiting around, we were out on the bright blue ocean in search of what brought me to Legaspi in the first place. The boats themselves were a far cry from state of the art. There was no sonar, radio, faxes, or weather instruments- just three or four guys standing on the bow looking for the sharks. I sat there wondering how such a simple method could prove to be so effective in finding the Whale Sharks. But the guide informed us before we left the shore that the peak season to find the sharks was February through May, and with visibility at its best in March, he gave us a 100% guarantee that we would be swimming with sharks by noon. He was right.

After forty-five minutes of driving around, the guide informed us to put on our snorkel gear and fins and hang over the edge of the boat. We were handed strict instructions not to jump before we were given the go ahead by the guide as the boat started to speed up. Apparently, a Butanding had been spotted. Before we knew it, the boat had come to a halt and the driver yelled, "JUMP!"

Now here I am- thousands of miles from home. I am hanging over the side of a boat while a guide I don't know is telling me, an American deathly afraid of anything that swims in the water let alone the world's largest shark, to knowingly jump into the ocean where I will be face to face with a very big fish. The other travelers jump enthusiastically into the water as I look at the dark blue surface below me and think, "What the hell am I doing?"

I hold my breath and jump into the water.

I start bobbing in the water and kicking my new fins to keep up with the rest of the group. We start swimming at a pretty reasonable clip towards the guide. I can here my new friends yelling "OH MY GOD!!" and "THAT'S F*CKING HUGE!" (Pardon my French, but I do believe those words are the most accurate in portraying what goes on in your mind when you see one.) I swim over to the guide and he tells me to look. I submerge and look to my left. I see nothing but open, dark water. I pop back up and the guide yells again, "LOOK!" I look to my right this time, but again, I see nothing but emptiness. Once more I look up at the guide who, instead of just yelling directions, is this time pointing straight down. I lower my head and fix my gaze right below me. There it is, the Butanding in all it's length and magnificence. I am so close to this beauty that I am literally walking on top of her. Her grey spots set against her blue body float seamlessly through the water. She is so big, you can only see parts of her at one time. And to be in the presence of this enormous animal not in a cage, not behind a plate of glass in an aquarium, but swimming around freely and carelessly in the wild results in an emotion so overpowering, so elementary yet terrifyingly new, it can quite possibly move you to tears.

Eventually the Whale Shark dives down out of view, you snorkel around until the boat picks you up, and that is the extent of your swim with the Butanding.

When we arrived back on the boat, the guide told us the Whale Shark we saw was about seven meters in length, or about 25 feet long. (Although when you are swimming with the Whale Sharks, it's as if she takes up the entire ocean with her.) That day we had a total of eight to ten interactions with the Butanding. Some were smaller babies, and were frightened easily. Others were bigger and older, almost ten meters, and played with us much longer before diving down to depths unreachable by our snorkels. But each time I dove into that water, I had to play many headgames with myself, playing a convincing role that these Butanding were not dangerous. Even though that may not be entirely accurate.

While the Whale Sharks won't eat you, they are still very large animals. Sometimes when you jumped into the water, you were greeted by an enormous shark's face swimming right at you. These babies don't get out of the way either, and unless you want to know what it's like to get hit by 40 cars (going about 3 miles per hour), there are times you are scrambling to get out of its way. There is also one other part of the shark you should watch out for- the tail. The guide informed us we should always know where the tail is at all times, but when you have such an enormous fish in front of you, sometimes it is difficult to figure out just what part of the shark you are looking at. However, there were times when I was swimming right over it and it seemed no matter which way I scrambled to get along side of it, I always managed to be right over it. And it goes without saying some of us were unintentionally struck by the massive tail fin on this gentle beast.

After four hours of snorkeling, which seemed like only thirty minutes in reality, we headed back to shore for a delicious lunch prepared at a local restaurant. Because of my illness, and my clear disdain for seafood, I opted out of the fish sandwiches before heading back to Legaspi. When I returned back to Legaspi, I discovered I had forgotten to apply sunscreen on my back and was therefore redder than the crabs at lunch. I took a rest that afternoon before going out to dinner at Wei Wei's restaurant- home of Ox Testicle, not Ox Tongue- and then I returned to the hotel to save enough sleep before the next two days which can only be described as the pinnacle of my time in The Philippines.

From your shark-hunting, Butanding interaction traveler of the sleepy town of Donsol, Michael.