Jaws of death of great white shark

It\'s cold, really cold. The freezing Atlantic creeps in around the neck of my wetsuit. However, that isn\'t why I am struggling to breathe. I\'m scared. Really, really scared. Adjusting my mask as the salt water spits off the side of the bobbing boat I ask myself whether, in the scheme off things, this is really necessary. I have lowered myself slowly into a cage that barely seems large enough to hold a seal. The bars of the cage are thinner than I think they should be, the gaps between them wide enough for my knees to slowly drift through. Beyond these bars, I am surrounded by a deep, dark green sea: home to a pure eating machine. Three days earlier in Cape Town, full of red wine bravado, I had bragged of my desire to dive with the great whites to any and all that would listen. I thought I sounded like the crusty old cantankerous sea dog Quint from Jaws. It was only later, as we drove the coast road towards the picturesque beach town of Hermanus, that I remembered that Quint\'s fate was to be bitten in half by the title character of the film. This was the moment that I recognised the first sensation of fear. Hermanus Hermanus is like an old film set, perched on a cliff overlooking the raging Atlantic and filled with pricey eateries, old seafood dens, rustic pubs and a mixture of luxury, retro and backpacker accommodation. A couple of hours from Cape Town, it is the beginning of the Garden Route, South Africa\'s equivalent of Victoria\'s Great Ocean Road. The number of shopfronts adorned with plastic sharks attests to the fact that diving with the great whites has become a tourist magnet. Wandering the cliff top esplanade we are drawn to a cosy little cluttered window that promises the ultimate shark experience. The cage and the wet suited mannequin draw us inside. It is here that we meet Kim Maclean, otherwise known as the Shark Lady. The shark lady It is Kim\'s passion that convinces us to join her dive. A pioneer in the business, Kim has been in the game since 1992 and is a strong advocate for eco-friendly diving. Judging by the other dive operators\' brochures this is the new marketing point of difference. In the \"old days\" Kim tells us, dive operators would lure the great whites out of the water and punch them in the sensory organs located under their noses, sending the sharks into a frenzy. Cool, I think to myself while acknowledging Kim with a suitably disapproving eco-friendly nod. We meet with Kim the following morning to be driven to the base house at the launch harbour for a quick briefing on the day\'s proceedings. This includes a run down of the do\'s and don\'ts. The number one \"don\'t\" is reaching through the bars to touch the sharks. No kidding Kim. It is mid-February and we are told that not only is visibility not great at this time of year (the best time to dive is May to August) but there is no guarantee that we will see a shark. However, Jacques the skipper smiles and reassures us that not sighting a shark is pretty rare. \"In fact, the day before yesterday there was a frenzy of activity and a three metre shark actually ran into the side of the cage,\" he says excitedly. My bravado of the previous day ebbs further away. All aboard We board our boat. I am immediately alarmed when I see the cage that is strapped to the rear. Its bars appear very thin. They also look bent in all manner of directions. I ask Jacques what happened. With an unsettling grin he explains that sometimes the sharks think that there is more food in the cage. As sure as I am that Jacques is merely stirring me up I decide that I don\'t like him. With a swell rolling in placidly from the depths, our vessel lolls easily as we venture further from the shore. I wonder if the queasiness engulfing me is seasickness or the onset of a shark phobia. I suddenly recall the scene from the beginning of Jaws when the skinny-dipping girl is jerked suddenly under water by the first bite. I remember the severed leg sinking to the bottom of the ocean after another attack, but mostly I remember Richard Dreyfuss\' character, Hooper, assembling his cage and Quint asking: \"What d\'ya have there — a portable shower or a monkey cage?\" Hooper: \"Anti-shark cage.\" Quint: \"Anti-shark cage. You go inside the cage?\" [Hooper nods] Quint: \"Cage goes in the water, you go in the water. Shark\'s in the water. Our shark.\" Quint breaks into \'Farewell to ye\' with a wry incredulous smile on his face. We anchor and the crew mixes up some slop that is thrown over the back of the boat. A huge slab of meat is tied to a thick rope and hurled over the edge before, to my amazement, a small, child-shaped piece of wood covered in wetsuit is repeatedly thrown onto the surface of the water. \"Looks like a seal\", explains Jacques. \"It casts a shadow that attracts them.\" Looks like a small child in a wetsuit, Jacques. Suddenly there is panic. One of the other tourists has spotted one of the beasts. The boat lurches as we all push to the viewing edge. My first thought is similar to that of the lead character played by Roy Schneider in Jaws: \"We need a bigger boat!\" Get in the cage! Jacques yells, \"Quickly, get in the cage, get in the cage\". I feel like yelling something back at him that might get me thrown off the boat. Instead, I am madly pulling on my wetsuit and bracing myself for the ice-cold water. I cry out as the water slides up to my armpits, pretending that I am reacting to the cold. I am not. Three metres away is the fin of a three-metre great white moving towards my cage, in front of which Jacques is dangling the slab of meat. I definitely hate Jacques. The lid of the cage closes and I push myself beneath the water to view the great white at his eye level. Kim is right about the visibility. Save for the large shadow moving towards me, it\'s all a green haze. My instinct is to pull my legs up, assume the foetal position and cry but as I do this my knees push through the gaps between the bars on the cage. As this occurs, the shadow comes into focus and the shark bumps the corner of the cage as he swims past. My wetsuit is suddenly warm. I decide (much faster than the others) that I\'ve had enough and that it is best that everyone else quickly has a go. Removing myself from the cage, the outline of Jaws Junior moves around for another pass. With no dignity I fall into the boat, shivering. \"Cold isn\'t it?\" says Jacques. Perhaps he knows that I am not shaking from the cold. Wrapped in a towel, I stare over the edge of the boat as the shark makes another pass before disappearing into the depths. Our 15 minutes of shark time was easily worth the four hours of travel and waiting. Motoring back into Hermanus I still cannot believe that a three-metre great white was so close to the end of my nose.