I Vomited on a Shark

Shark diving is unethical and I regret doing it.

Here's what happens: basically, you venture out on boats and the captain lures sharks to the boat by pouring fish blood into the water to simulate a fresh kill. The shark then thinks that some animal was attacked by another shark and decides to swim over to the site of the fresh kill and eat whatever was killed. But nothing was killed. The blood was an elaborate ploy used by the people that run the shark tours to lure real live sharks to the boat. Then the shark gets angry (understandably) and leaves. There is a underwater cage attached to the boat where tourists can put on their snorkeling goggles and stare at the confused and misled sharks through metal bars and take pictures.

I wanted to get in the cage. I wanted to see the sharks close up as they swam toward me. I wanted to stare into their bloody mouths. But I was too nauseous to slip on a wet suit.

I spent most of the trip on the boat staring at the horizon and trying not to think nauseous thoughts. It was all a head game, and a head game I was clearly losing. It didn't matter where I stared, all I could think about was how wonderfully satisfying it would be if I threw up all over myself.

It didn't help that everyone else was throwing up. My friend Shauna was staring into the sea, with a sullen look on her face, and every now and then she coughed and threw up into the water. Some French chick threw up over and over again right next to the cage where everyone was snorkeling. I imagine they were not pleased as chunks of her throw up floated on top of the water next to their bobbing heads.

I asked the captain what to do since I felt nauseous and he told me to "stand under a palm tree." Hahaha. Really, Captain. You're fucking hilarious. I see no palm tree. I think you were just irritated that one more tourist was asking you what to do about their nausea, and you thought it would be funny if you gave me bullshit advice. Well guess what? I hate you.

After lying on my back in the center of the boat and staring at the ceiling, I finally reached a point where I could no longer contain my throw-up. I grabbed the hand rail and walked up the stairs to the front part (the mast?) of the ship, where Shauna was vomiting. We both vomited. Just then a shark swam by, opened it's mouth, and swallowed some of our vomit. I kid you not. I have now vomited on a shark. I really don't know how I feel about that.

Then the boat floated over to a seal island, where tens of thousands of seals were chilling, barking, pooping, and fucking each other. This island was the reason why there were so many great white sharks here; sharks eat seals. I'd always thought seals were adorable fumbling hilarious creatures, but seal island island smelled like shit. Imagine someone taking a dump on your face. That's how seal island smelled. It smelled like the entire world just took a fattie dump on my face.

On the way back, I chatted with the videographer on the boat. He was creating a movie of the entire trip to sell to us afterward for a few hundred rand. He interviewed me about the trip and I told him I was miserable. Shark diving had been a huge disappointment and I just wanted to go home. I told him I didn't realize we were going to be luring confused animals to our boat. For some reason, I thought the sharks would be naturally attracted to our big white boat. I didn't realize we'd have to fuck with them to get their attention.

When we arrived back at the shark lodge, we watched the video that the videographer had hastily assembled with bad techno music (seems to be the trend). Of course, he edited out our interview.

Shark diving sucks. Don't do it.