How to Stay Calm in Rough Seas Filled with Large Sharks

Black tip reef shark

I’ve been scuba diving for about 20 years. Most of my dives have been in the calm, tropical waters of the Caribbean, on the massive reef running alongside the coast of the Yucatan peninsula near Cozumel, Mexico.

For several years I made an annual dive trip and fell in love with Cozumel and the Palancar Reef. Ideal for diving. Visibility for a hundred feet. A full rainbow of colorful coral and fish, and warm, relaxing water. Currents can be strong but they’re usually steady. And in my experience, the sharks have been small – mostly nurse sharks no more than four feet in length, and keeping their distance.

On Thanksgiving Day of 2021, I got a different diving perspective when I dived a couple of tanks with my son, Elliot, off the coast of Big Pine Key, Florida. We boated about an hour south from land to check out the Looe Key Reef. The sun was shining but the wind was blowing, making for a rough, undulating, bucking ride out to the dive site on our 18-foot catamaran-style boat.

The water’s surface was frothy and choppy as we dropped the six feet into the sea off the side of the boat and did our checks before submerging. More challenging, the strong current was fitful, like the wind. Strong splashy waves followed by a couple of weak laps, so that you let down your guard a bit. Then another, stronger wave splashing seawater in your face.

Salt water slopped into our eyes and noses as we checked on each other, our heads bobbing just above the surface. It was time to get down. We bit on our regulators, took a couple breaths of air-gas mixture, then deflated our buoyancy compensator vests and descended under water.

As we dropped to 10 feet, then 20, clearing our ear pressure, the surface current eased and we got a clear view of the billions of gallons of ocean spreading another 20 feet beneath us. This would not be a particularly deep dive, 40 feet at the deepest. But that’s plenty of depth in which to float and flit along with the fish.

The Largest Shark I’ve Ever Seen

After about 10 minutes of floating and swimming through and over coral mounds, enjoying the plethora of vivid colors and fish – parrot fish, lion fish, barracudas, groupers – I spotted the largest shark I’d ever seen while diving. He or she circled about 20 feet away. Nurse shark, we figured, but larger than those I was used to seeing in Mexico. This one at least 6 feet.

Our shark maintained its perimeter but continued circling, a large 180 around us. I kept my eye on it, not because I was alarmed or worried about an unlikely attack, but because I was mesmerized. These ancient creatures are the kings of the sea. They’ve adapted over 450 million years to become a relatively intelligent predator at the top of the food chain. And as long as you don’t threaten them or their offspring, they are not likely to attack.

We floated for a while longer when Elliot pointed off to our 3 o’clock. I looked and peered through the dim haze of water and saw nothing. I looked back at Elliot and he pointed again. Again I looked and saw nothing. I gave him a big shrug, letting go of the moment. We turned and continued swimming.

Then I saw it. At least eight feet long. And fat. About five feet below me, a Black Tip Reef shark (we determined this later). It was hovering against the sea bottom, then suddenly curled on itself and swam away from us.

Now I got it. He was pointing at this sizable shark. And despite the unlikelihood of a shark attack on a diver, I would not have come so nonchalantly close to this beast if I had seen it. One doesn’t want to spook them.

Astronomical Odds

A few statistics learned over the years helped me stay calm so close to a shark that outweighed me by more than 150 pounds.

For one thing, even if a shark decides to come after you, there’s little you can do to avoid it if you’re in open water. It definitely won’t help you to panic and try to swim away, that may be the worst thing you can do because it might prompt the shark to pursue. In the event a shark does show signs of aggression, it’s better to hold still and maintain eye contact, or better yet, start swimming toward it. At that point it will likely swim away.

More importantly: A scuba diver’s chance of getting bitten by a shark is one in 136 million. It almost never happens. Sharks are curious to check out divers, but once they see these floating, bubbling animals they move on to less threatening prey.

Sharks primarily eat smaller fish and invertebrates. Some larger sharks may prey on seals, sea lions and other mammals. In other words, sharks don’t want a fight, and they’re not looking to eat humans.

Surfers, and to a lesser extent, snorkelers, are more likely to be attacked by a shark because the shark mistakes these surface splashing creatures for seals, one of their favorite meals. Still, the odds of anyone getting attacked by a shark remain low – about one in 17 million. And we humans are much more likely to die of heart disease (one in five), cancer (one in seven) or stroke (one in 24) than from a shark attack.

Comforting, I know.

A perfect Thanksgiving sea rainbow spotted on our way back from diving.

A Long, Wet Slog

I regard encounters with sharks as I do run ins with bears, snakes, moose, drug kingpins and other predatory animals. Keep your head down and move on. Most likely, these animals are not interested in attacking you unless they are threatened.

A while after our shark encounter, Elliot and I emerged on the surface and spotted our boat a good five hundred feet in the distance. We had a long, slow swim against the current to get back, and our air was running short.

Back on the boat, headed for shore, we agreed: that last slog to the boat, fighting the strong current the whole way, was more harrowing than anything we saw under water…including 8-foot sharks.

August Adventure Month: Day 31

I declared August 2021 Adventure-a-Day Month (yes, I can do that)! Every day of August, I embarked on some type of adventure, 31 days, 31 adventures, some big, some small, some physical, some mental. It’s my way of making adventure part of everyday life. I write about each adventure below.

Dusk bike ride

It’s not easy coming up with and executing an adventure every single day. That’s what I attempted for the month of August. Not every day’s adventure has been notable, and some days it’s been a bit of a stretch to even call them adventures. But, I argue, every day of August I did something out of the ordinary, at least a little risky, usually with travel involved, and some kind of challenge – all the elements of adventure, by my definition.

My final adventure was by no means my grandest, and really, my August Adventure Month ended with somewhat of a whimper. It was nearing dusk. I’d spent a long day at the office. I was tired mentally. So, with barely a thought about it, I hopped on my bike for a contemplative, relaxing ride around Easthampton, thinking back on this interesting month of daily adventures. I wended my way through Nashawannuck Park and along the streets near downtown, watching people enjoy the waning days of summer. I enjoyed the ride; not much of an adventure, but perhaps that’s a fitting way for a month of daily adventures to end: quietly, without unnecessary fanfare, a silent, unhurried homage to those that came before it, and their meaning not as individual achievements, but as a totality of lessons learned, about imagining, planning, pursuing, achieving and pondering adventures. This is life. An adventure every day.

Adventure: One-hour bike ride at dusk.
Distance traveled: About 14 miles cycling.
Challenges: Getting on the bike and completing this month of adventure.
Risks: Traffic and other cycling risks.
Difficulty scale 1-10: 4
Highlights: Riding through town at dusk, savoring the final days of summer; the feeling of accomplishment from completing a month of adventures every single day.

August Adventure Month: Day 29

Bike atop Mt. Sugarloaf, Sunderland, Mass.

Day 29: Sunday, August 29
Bike to/up the 3 Valley mountains with paved roads: Mt. Tom, Mt. Holyoke, Mt. Sugarloaf

This was a goal on my list all summer: ride to and up the three Valley peaks with paved roads in one continuous ride. It always sounded daunting, as much for the long ride in between the mountains as for the climb up each one. I’ve climbed each one separately at different times, but combining them all into one long ride (a 66-mile loop climbing 3,500 feet) was a whole different prospect. Mt. Tom was first because it’s close to my house. I rode out my driveway, as I always do, and headed over to Mt. Tom, which I’ve now climbed about a half dozen times. It gets easier each time, and today’s was not difficult, though exerting. Leg’s warmed up I traveled along the ridge road to the park’s west entrance and took off down back down the mountain on Route 141 back into Easthampton. I rode into town and caught the Manhan Bike Trail into Northampton, then linked up with the Norwottuck Rail Trail to cross the Connecticut River into Hadley. Then over to Bay Road and to Route 47 to Skinner Park, home of Mt. Holyoke and the Summit House at the top. This is never an easy ride. The road starts with a steep 3/4-mile climb – always a leg waker-upper – before it flattens a little where it passes the New England Trail. Then the steepness picks up again with several hairpin turns and 8-10% grades as you near the top. Low climbing gears and standing necessary. The payoff of the Summit House is always awesome with great views north, the Valley and river below. After blasting down the road, I turned east on Route 47 toward Granby, hooked up to Route 116 and made my way up over the notch, legs starting to feel the day’s ride. Down into South Amherst, still on 116, I worked my way up the long hill into Amherst Center. I delighted at the Amherst Town Common carnival as I rode past, remembering taking my kids to this annual event when they were little. Then I cruised through downtown Amherst to University Drive, straight through the UMass campus, bustling with students (I also apparently pissed off one of them in his honking car), and down into North Amherst, winding back out to Route 116 toward Sunderland. Finally, after 16 miles since Mt. Hokyoke, Mt. Sugarloaf was in my sights, and I crossed the Connecticut River again then climbed up to the access road. Climbing Sugarloaf is moderate at first, for about 3/4 of a mile, before it turns sharp right and picks up to an 8% grade for the last 1/3 push to the top. Awesome views are the reward, with a different view of the river, Sunderland and UMass in the distance. Relieved with the three peak climbs accomplished, I headed fast down the road and started my long ride back home. Goal achieved.

Adventure: Bike to and up the three Valley peaks with paved roads: Mt. Tom, Mt. Holyoke, Mt. Sugarloaf.
Distance traveled: About 66 miles cycling, 3,500+ feet climbed.
Challenges: Long endurance ride; three tough climbs up mountains; keeping hydrated and fueled.
Risks: Cycling risks: traffic, slipping/falling; risk of losing control when riding 45 mph down a mountain;
Difficulty scale 1-10: 8
Highlights: Spectacular views from the tops of Mt. Holyoke and Sugarloaf; the feeling of real accomplishment from having achieved a tough goal.

August Adventure Month: Day 25

Atop Mt. Sugarloaf, Sunderland, Mass.

Day 25: Wednesday, August 25
Bike ride, Mt. Sugarloaf

This was my first time bike climbing Mt. Sugarloaf, the knob of a mountain in Sunderland, MA. The road is about one mile to the summit. It starts out with a moderate up the side of the mountain for about two thirds of a mile before you take a hairpin turn to the right to start the steep climb to the top. Once you make that hairpin turn things get more difficult, and it’s down to the lowest gear to manage the very steep, one-third-mile climb to the summit. This climb is distinct from Mt. Holyoke and Mt. Tom – the other Valley mountains with paved roads – in that it saves the steepest climb for last. It’s not the hardest Valley paved-road climb, Mt. Holyoke is longer and has a steep beginning and end. The view at the top is well worth the effort with a sweeping panorama of the northern Valley, the town of Sunderland and the Connecticut River wending below. Then the reward: a mile-long fast coast back down the mountain road!

Adventure: Bike climb, Mt. Sugarloaf, Sunderland, MA
Distance traveled: About 32 miles RT.
Challenges: A long ride on Route 47 with very narrow shoulder; a rigorous climb up the mountain with a very steep finish.
Risks: Traffic on Route 47; running out of energy on the steep climb toward the top; losing control on the fast, winding descent.
Difficulty scale 1-10: 7.5
Highlights: It’s always a triumphant feeling to come out on the top of a mountain, having conquered the climb. Today offered a wonderful, clear view. And the ride back down the mountain road was fast, exciting, a little scary, and invigorating.

August Adventure Month: Day 24

Sunset, Mt. Holyoke, South Hadley, Mass.

Day 24: Tuesday, August 24
Night hike, Seven Sisters RT

I’d been wanting to do this for a long time: hike up to the Summit House on Mt. Holyoke for sunset (pictured), then hike the Seven Sisters range in the dark. It was a hot, wet day, humidity in the 90s. The sunset was wonderful, then the hiking began. Seven Sisters is not an easy range to hike, even in daylight. It’s a 4.5-mile (one way) stretch of constant steep hills, up and down. This is a different hike than climbing a mountain, with a long uphill followed by a long downhill. Rather, Seven Sisters is a long, steady workout that keeps raising your heartbeat then allowing a little recovery before doing it all again, over and over. For that reason, it’s a good training ground for hiking and trail running, and during weekend days you often run into trail runners training for an event. I’ve used Seven Sisters for years as a hiking training ground, often taking on the round trip with a 30-pound pack to build my trail legs. But hiking this trail at night is a different experience. You hear different animals, the view below is speckled with lights, and you don’t come across any other hikers. It can get a little spooky in the middle where it’s most remote, but mostly it’s a peaceful hike, always recommended.

Adventure: Night hike of Seven Sisters range.
Distance traveled: About 11 miles hiking.
Challenges: Hiking up and down a fairly rigorous trail; maintaining composure while alone at midnight deep in the woods.
Risks: Slipping and falling down a steep embankment; potential run-in with a bobcat, coyote or bear.
Difficulty scale 1-10: 7.5
Highlights: Lovely light-speckled night views of the Valley below; the peace of being alone in the woods at night.

August Adventure Month: Day 23

Day 23: Monday, August 23
Write a song

As adventures go, today’s was fairly low stakes, though not easy. To write a good song – something meaningful and impactful – requires a dive deep inside, an inner exploration that might bring you to internal places you haven’t been in a while, if ever. It can be a risky or difficult emotional journey. The song I wrote for today’s adventure is a ballad, and addresses ironies and contradictions in the ways people communicate in relationships, the ways in which we verbally dance in order to care for feelings instead of being forthright and honest. It’s not my best, not my worst. Someday I’ll perform it, when it’s refined and ready.

Adventure: Write a song
Distance traveled: An inward, emotional journey, immeasurable distance.
Challenges: Engaging emotions, venturing deep inside where difficult feelings may live.
Risks: Hitting up against hard thoughts, memories and feelings.
Difficulty scale 1-10: 7
Highlights: The feeling of reward when the song is finished; playing the song in its entirety.

August Adventure Month: Day 22

Mt. Marcy summit, Adirondacks, New York

I declared August 2021 Adventure-a-Day Month (yes, I can do that)! Every day of August, I embarked on some type of adventure, 31 days, 31 adventures, some big, some small, some physical, some mental. It’s my way of making adventure part of everyday life. I write about each adventure below.

Day 22: Sunday, August 22
Climbing Mt. Marcy, NY (high point)

I love the Adirondacks. Mt. Marcy, just outside of Lake Placid, NY, is the state’s highest point at 5,300 feet, so I was able to add another to my ongoing endeavor of standing on the highest point in all 50 U.S. states. This climb is long and meandering, gradually up through woods for more than six miles before an intense rock climb for the last mile to the summit. Then the trees clear and you get this incredible view of mountains stretching in all directions. I heard the crowds swell atop Mt. Marcy, but on this day (as Hurricane Ida thrashed Connecticut and other lower regions) the crowd was minimal. Another high point climbed, this was a good one. And I couldn’t resist getting a shot of these gorgeous wildflowers near the top.

Adventure: Climbing Mt. Marcy, NY.
Distance traveled: About 16 miles hiking RT.
Challenges: Enduring a long hike, scrambling up rocks, rationing water and food because I didn’t pack enough!
Risks: Slipping and falling, turning/spraining an ankle, dehydration.
Difficulty scale 1-10: 7
Highlights: An awesome view and lovely winds atop Mt. Marcy. Great payoff for the long hike getting there.

August Adventure Month: Day 21

Kayaking Lake Placid, NY


I declared August 2021 Adventure-a-Day Month (yes, I can do that)! Every day of August, I embarked on some type of adventure, 31 days, 31 adventures, some big, some small, some physical, some mental. It’s my way of making adventure part of everyday life. I write about each adventure below.

Day 21: Saturday, August 21
Kayaking Lake Placid, NY

Lake Placid is gorgeous. An expansive lake with an extensive shoreline wending through and among towering Adirondack peaks. It’s peaceful, too, as its name suggests. For my Lake Placid exploration by kayak (Oru folding kayak), I set in on the north shore of the lake and worked my way across through the wind and south through a broad channel, then back north again and near some rocky cliffs, perfect for a swim. I spent about three hours on the lake and could have stayed out longer, but clouds threatened a storm approaching. Dinner in Lake Placid village followed.

Adventure: Exploring Lake Placid, NY, by kayak.
Distance traveled: About 8 miles paddled.
Challenges: Paddling against a strong wind at times; enduring hours in one position.
Risks: Capsizing. Getting lost on the water.
Difficulty scale 1-10: 4.5
Highlights: Drifting on the large lake with spectacular views of the Adirondacks all around.

August Adventure Month: Day 20

I declared August 2021 Adventure-a-Day Month (yes, I can do that)! Every day of August, I embarked on some type of adventure, 31 days, 31 adventures, some big, some small, some physical, some mental. It’s my way of making adventure part of everyday life. I write about each adventure below.

Day 20: Friday, August 20
Paragliding lesson 2

Today’s lesson was slightly disappointing, though still enjoyable. Because there was so little wind, we were not able to lift off the ground with our paragliders. Rather, we practiced “kiting,” that is, lifting them off the ground and getting them to hover overhead, to get a feel for the wind and how to work it in concert with the paraglide wing. My appetite for paragliding is still whetted, but the ultra-dependence on the wind and weather in order to successfully do this activity give me some apprehension. I want to fly, but I’m uncertain if I want to invest the time and money to become adept at an activity that I can engage in only a handful of times each season. Under consideration

Adventure: Second paragliding lesson
Distance traveled: About 55 miles driving to Morningside, NH.
Challenges: Steadying a billowing paraglide wing overhead in unsteady wind.
Risks: Tripping and falling while running for launch.
Difficulty scale 1-10: 2.5
Highlights: Getting a feel for the paraglider.

August Adventure Month: Day 30

Day 30: Monday, August 30
4-mile run after a heavy rain

Winding down this month of adventure, following a Day 29 big goal, and having returned to my office for the first time since March 13, 2020, I tapered down the ambition today and did a simple run after work. Four miles. It had just rained so I mistakenly thought it would be cooled off and less humid. It turned into a heavy, soaked run with 85% humidity, but it felt good. I was glad to keep it short. Still high from the goal achieved on Day 29.

Adventure: Take a 4-mile run around Easthampton
Distance traveled: About 4 miles running.
Challenges: Running, strenuous movement, for about half an hour.
Risks: Running risks: injuring something, traffic, slip/fall, ankle turn, dehydration.
Difficulty scale 1-10: 4.5
Highlights: The joy of moving, changing scenery, late-afternoon views of Easthampton after a heavy rain.