Before I talk about osprey reef, I’d like to address the boat ride last night to get to osprey. The open ocean had about 6 to 8 foot seas and I had taken my motion sickness pill with dinner. No problem. It makes you drowsy and a sleeping person can’t get motion sickness. Well at 3 am the pill wore off and I woke up to some serious movement. These pills are preventative so if you feel sick, it’s too late. So the plan was to stay horizontal in my bed while finding my pill and swallowing it with my spit. Next I would listen to music and close my eyes (two tricks to lessen the effects of motion sickness) for 30 minutes till the pill takes hold.
I managed to take the pill and get my I-pod started but I felt like the pill may be sitting at the beginning of my throat instead of in my stomach (since it was only a little spit and not a proper gulp of water). The way my bead was facing made my head (and body) go up and down instead of side to side. This meant that during the movement it became hard to breathe when the boat was making its way back up the swell. I improvised a special breathing technique that consisted of breathing in when I felt weightless and out when the felt the double enforcement of gravity by the swell. It was similar to breathing out when you get kicked in the stomach in karate. Somehow it worked and the next time I woke up was 6 am. Now, onto the reef.
Osprey reef is the big show for this 5 day trip. It’s why people pay too much to go on this trip. The site is a big freaking reef in the middle of the ocean and 1000 meter depth all around for hundreds to thousands of miles. The result is a water clarity that is unmatched. There are simply no particles in the water to be stirred up for a very long way. The clarity is its own novelty. When I first got into the water I saw straight to the bottom of 70 meters. The color contrast was the most incredible blue I’ve ever seen. I wish Crayola or BMW would take a trip out here and dedicate one of their colors Osprey Blue. I’d like to see this tone a lot more if at all possible.
The next thing I noticed were the trillions of pearl like bubbles slowly making their way to the surface. It was overwhelming if not blinding. There were about 4 or 5 sharks swimming casually along the perimeter as we went exploring. The trip director convinced me to become deep water certified (30 meters instead of 18 meters) when he said “trust me, at osprey 18 meters feels like a safety stop”. A safety stop is 5 meters deep to make sure you don’t have too much nitrogen in your blood when exiting a deeper depth. The director was right, even 30 meters felt like nothing. He also said “shoot for 25 meters because it’s so clear down there that if you shoot for 30 you’ll hit 40 (the danger zone)” This coupled with being close to a 1000 meter drop off really makes you want to be mindful of your depth like never before.
The reason you have to get certified to go down to 30 meters is because when some people start to experience “nitrogen narcosis” which is a condition where the nitrogen build up affects your brain. You start to act loopy and do stupid things like chase fish and try to feed them your air.
Osprey is the edge of oblivion. It’s the end of the game. Our trip director would be the one conducting the shark feed. He was the person who conducted the cod feed as well. Trent (the director) had a bubbly sense of humor and a posture that suggested military or professional athlete. I got the sense that he was the most experienced diver on the boat as well as the most motivated. With a butt load of confidence and an ultra well spoken vocabulary, this guy was a perfect fit for the job.
The way Trent had described the shark feed made me feel like the sharks would be about 40 to 50 feet away. There would be a pinnacle stage point and we would all be circled around a natural coral amphitheater. He gave us warnings about the big silver tip reef sharks that might make their way between the pinnacle and the amphitheater to take a look into what’s going on with all the humans sitting on their wall. He also exclaimed that the sharks who were participating in the feed would be about as interested in us as we would be interested in dog food.
I had mistakenly kicked the reef the day before and had some open wounds that might make me a bit more appealing than the average diver. Trent ensured me that my blood was more like dog food gravy since it smelt completely different than the tuna fish heads that he was using for the feed. Trent also warned us that the sharks know that the second dive of the day is the feed so you will see quite a few more getting in the water than the first dive. He also warned us that there was a possibility of a shark wall. This is when the trash can full of food enters the water, the 30 some odd sharks waiting in oblivion will all approach at once creating a shark wall. This sometimes freaks people out so before he flips the hatch open for feeding, he makes one final check, staring into each one of our eyes and making sure that we are not in a state of panic.
Before I forget, my dive buddy looks like Mr. Burns (from the Simpsons) when under water with a bent over posture and both arms cocked at 90 degrees and pointing forward. It’s hilarious; he looks so damned uncomfortable underwater.
Taking my position on the reef, I realized that the pinnacle was a lot closer than I thought it would be. It was literally about 15 feet away. This shark-gy (shark orgy) was going to be up close and personal. There were three types of sharks that would be present during the feed. The White Tip Reef Shark is about 3-4 feet long at the most. It is the house cat of the scene. In comparison to the others, it looks like a pink foe. The Grey Reef Shark looked like the pit bull of the matter with a much more muscular physique and a girthy 5-5.5 feet in length. Then there is the Silver Tip Reef Shark. “You’ll know it when you see it”. They don’t actually participate in the feed, they just lurk out at the edge of oblivion and occasionally strut their way between the pinnacle stage and the amphitheatre. These guys can do some real damage. They can grow to about 8 feet long and are in no way afraid of divers like the previous two species.
Trent stands on the stage and opens the trashcan. A buoy sails up about 10 feet and 5 tuna heads are strung along like beads on a bracelet. The sharks all swarm in, violently gripping and shaking away bits of the heads. The grey reef sharks begin to break free the heads and swallow them whole. There is simply too much going on to concentrate on. There is a ball of 30 undulating sharks. It began to look like a ball of worms. And before you know it, all the tuna heads are gone. The feed is over in less than a minute and we are now left to swim around the site with 25 hungry and frustrated sharks.
Oddly enough, most of the sharks disappeared back into the oblivion. Most of the sharks lost interest in the funny looking creatures blowing bubbles. I must admit that most of the divers (myself included) stayed very close together for the duration of the dive and we stayed stuck onto the reef so that one side of us were not vulnerable.
As time went on, the groups began to loosen and a silver tip reef shark (the bad kind) made its way between me and the reef, circling tightly. I didn’t take my eyes off of it. I prepared to punch it in the nose and gouge its shark eyes out. This fucker was about to get some karate. What was I thinking? That shark would have murdered me. I didn’t have anything to hit it with let alone gloves on to prevent my firsts from being shredded its armor skin.
Luckily, the big boy only made one loop and lost interest, casually cruising back into oblivion. There were a bunch of remoras that were looking for a host at this dive site. Remoras are a species of fish that live attached to the shark. They clean the sharks skin and in return get to detach themselves to grab any bits and pieces that a shark might leave when feeding. I tried really hard to get a remora to attach to me (even though Trent said it might be a bit “prickly”) but I couldn’t do it.
When getting back on the boat, the people took as long as possible as usual. There was a huge line to get onto the dive deck but this time the sharks were making their way to the surface for a look. “Of all the times to not act like the fat whale you are, this is it!” I uselessly yelled underwater. The best part was that these lards were completely oblivious to it. They didn’t even have the common sense to look down while at the surface (completely vulnerable) after a SHARK FEED.
The next bunch of dive sites was full of underwater caverns and passages. I swam into one that was too small to get out of and too small to turn around in. Luckily, Mr. Burns instinctively knew what had happened and pulled me out by my fin.
I switched up dive buddies for the next dive and got the New Yorker who swims like a freaking motor boat. We were chasing down a blue spotted sting ray (with a tan base color) for the better part of 10 minutes. It was great fun. We also saw a stone fish (you step, you die) that was the size of a basket ball. Stone fish are among the most poisonous creatures in the world. They look like a rock and move like a rock. If you were to step on one, you would be dead before you could make it to the surface to scream “I’m a fucking idiot!”
At dinner I witnessed two different Americans talking to two Aussies and realized why the Aussies hate us so much. Americans abroad (the type that vacation for a week or so) have absolutely no experience in talking to people from other nations. They may have a few friends here or there, but they lack the basic etiquette to know when they might be offensive. Mr. Burns was American and said to the two Aussies at the table “Oh Australian food sucks. It’s not like French food or Thai Food. It doesn’t have an original theme.” I coughed in my seat and said to the Aussie Couple “I’m sorry for that and now I understand why you hate us so much.” They chuckled at me with a nod of approval, forgivingly separating me from my country of origin. They said “What? Telling someone that their food sucks and then trying to tell them how to do something their way as if it’s the only way?” And there it was, the truth. Most Americans who come abroad don’t understand that there is more than one way to skin a cat. This was the very reason I travel, because I find the other ways fascinating. I blame it on our isolation. We don’t have 30 other countries that we can mingle with within a few hours.
Another Aussie described it as arrogance. He said “You see, Aussies are good, but we don’t go around bragging about it. But Americans are also very good and they go around bragging about it to everyone.” (Correction, we aren’t good, we’re the best. It’s called a super power for a reason and if you’d like to take the title, you’re going to have to start working harder than checking your facebook at work while of making me wait at the damned front desk you lazy sack of shit! ) This really pisses off an Aussie because they are so competitive. And by the way, the Aussie who claimed that they don’t brag, happened to start about 7/10 of his sentences with “I’m Aussie” then explaining how he can’t get sun burnt, or bit by mosquitoes”. He was extra prideful.
The next time you go abroad follow these 3 simple rules of etiquette:
1. Don’t take anything personally.
2. Take interest in someone’s culture (not just their personal lives)
3. If someone seems like a jerk because they are quiet, they are probably just shy (which is true at home). Refer to rules one and two and you’ll have a friend before you know it.
Those are the rules. Follow them, and you will be ready for international life.