Frightening. Fearsome. Brutal. Bloodthirsty. Maneater. Human-hunter. All are synonymous with sharks. I would describe them differently.

When I first dived with sharks, I was convinced if the DM gave the shark signal I would swim in the opposite direction. Instead, I clawed my way through other divers to see a black tip reef shark, and so began my affinity. Recently, I undertook the ultimate shark-fari in South Africa; a country better known for safaris onshore as opposed to offshore.

“Down, left.” I hurriedly gulp a lungful of air, struggle against the buoyancy of the 5mm wettie and haul myself to the cage bottom. Out of the murky water glides a great white. It feels like an aquarium, but I’m not about to test if there’s a glass barrier between me and the oceans apex predator. I rise back to the surface and strain for another breath as the DM yells “down, infront.” I fail to employ any free-diving breath-hold techniques as planned and stay under until my lungs are at bursting point. Visibility is only 5-6 metres, offering limited sight of the sharks swimming towards you, not to mention the one who swims unknowingly beneath. And with some of the sharks measuring close to 4 metres, they fill the entire ocean-space you can see. Some, in pursuit of the bait charge the cage, lock its jaw upon the bars and like a baby with a rattle, shake. Upon surfacing, fellow companions scream, laugh nervously and yell with encouragement, “do it again.” Views are better out of the cage, where potentially up to 8 circle and curiously nose the bait. Or one in particular continues to breach, partially or completely ‘leaping’ out of the water, which occurs when approaching the surface from beneath at high speed to capture their prey, seals, and not surfers like the media and Jaws would have you believe. It is estimated that great white population sizes number 3,500, but they are migratory species, making evaluation difficult. They are listed as vulnerable on the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species and are protected under CITES Appendix II. Cage diving with great whites is one of the most popular tourist activities in South Africa, with dozens of outfitters offering similar experiences from Cape Town to Mossel Bay.

Nearby, I head up to 50km south of Cape Point to dive with the pelagic species of mako and blue sharks. The mako shark is fast, reaching speeds up to 50km per hour, and provides a show enroute as it leaps out of the sea, strengthening our resolution that we will have a successful encounter. We entice them closer with freshly caught dissected tuna. We wait. We watch. We wait. After one hour forty, they arrive. We eagerly enter, not only to see the sharks, but to escape the unforgiving sun. Underwater the mako zips towards me, rows of teeth grinning. For the first and only time, my stomach is in my throat. A hands distance away it veers off into the blue. The mako entertains while snorkeling. Once scuba is donned it disappears and the blue sharks remain. Their sleek body sparkles with a metallic blue streak. Some are skittish, but others allow their caudal fin or underside to be stroked, or their nose captured so I can flip them into a static state. This shark has become my favourite species; they are curious, friendly, interactive, slender and graceful. Blue sharks are the highest caught of shark species. A few years ago sharks up to 4 metres were spotted, now the largest is just over 2 metres. It was fisherman that notified divers of their occurrence in the area, as they chase the schooling yellowfin and longfin tuna that pass through. Some of the tuna were larger than the blue sharks in pursuit. The dive lasts as long as your air, or in my case, until I could no longer feel my fingers, and that wasn’t because I was suddenly missing some.

Non-divers and divers alike can partake in the above. For those who want to go deeper, further along the coast are the premier dive sites of Protea Banks and Aliwal Shoal. Both offer baited dives with oceanic black tips.

If it wasn’t for the number one rule of diving, to always breathe, my first dive with the oceanics would have taken my breath away. There were at least 25, caught within the intimate space provided by the 8 metre visibility. Worried my diver etiquette had lapsed while mesmerized, I checked my fins and I hadn’t been kicking other divers. I was invisible as the oceanics swarmed towards and around the bait drum. They became familiar; there was “pop-eye”, who due to a broken jaw looked like it would talk out the side of its mouth; “slasher” with three cuts in its dorsal; and “hanger,” with a hook threaded through its right top lip. Many bear fishing wounds. According to the IUCN more oceanic blacktips are caught recreationally than through commercial fisheries. Its flesh is considered superior to other shark species, making it one of the most important species caught in the northwestern Atlantic shark fishery, leading to it’s classification as near threatened on the IUCN red list.

As compelling as the oceanics are, I remember to look down and glimpse other species, a bull and a tiger. The bull shark circles lazily for the entire dive, showing no interest in us, despite our fascination. Yet this shark has a reputation as one of the most aggressive. A little south, locals accept that to swim or surf at their local beach could mean they never swim again, so the rolling surf breaks are deserted. In the past 6 years there have been 9 attacks, with all being fatal. The bull shark has been blamed. Bull sharks are territorial, and in this particular area, an in-progress study by the Durban Shark Board has found that here resides a stagnant population. So, what are they defending? Their young. They use the river mouths as nursery grounds. Despite our bulls lack of interest, I am disappointed to not get a closer view and relieved that I have had an uneventful encounter.

The tiger shark only shows interest in the bait drum at 18 metres. It inquisitively swims round and disappears into the gloom. It returns, takes another cautionary look and disappears. Again it returns, this time we lure it to our level by drawing the bait drum higher, which its jaw is locked upon. It may be the drum itself that interests and not the bait within. Tigers are called the “garbage cans of the sea.” After analyzing their stomach contents it has been found they have eaten tires, license plates and nails. They are not fussy eaters, consuming the widest food range of all shark species. There is no mistaking the tiger with its shovel-like head and distinctive stripes, which fade as they approach adulthood. I am shocked how slim and non-ferocious is appears. In its haste to get the bait it wraps itself in the line. I am so ecstatic I don’t realise I am a metre away, until I see the gills from inside its jaw. The tiger struggles and thrashes for freedom. I’m more afraid it may injure itself than me, but I back away and give it space.

Besides baited dives, there are also ‘reef’ dives available. Don’t expect coral reefs though, the water is too cold. Coral reefs require 28 degrees to flourish. Most of the diving here has me shivering in a 5mm full-length wettie with hood in 15 – 22 degrees. But there are sponges and fans, and more sharks to be discovered; guitar sharks lay idly upon the sand; ragged-tooth must make themselves dizzy from swimming round and round within a cave; endemic cat sharks appear from rocks, beneath kelp and from seemingly nowhere and everywhere to take squid from your hands. Diving with sharks can be a very safe and hands-on experience.

Weather was against me to dive with hammerheads. I managed to convince fellow divers to skip the baited dive and try our luck on the reef, hoping to see silhouettes overhead, as we drift along at 25 metres. But with winds increasing, the harbour closed and was deemed too dangerous to launch. Cape Point is the windiest place in South Africa, experiencing only 2% of all hours in the year with calm conditions. Most offshore trips run three in every ten days. Time and flexibility is a necessity, and maybe a stomach of steel (or seasickness tablets) to combat the trips to the sites. If you’re looking down while adding your contribution to the chum slick, you may miss passing dolphins, whales and sail fish.

Most diving is from rubber duckies and involves surf launches, where some thrill seeking needs are satisfied. I clutched the ropes to avoid being hurled into the surf as we swiped sideways on incoming waves. Maybe the dive conditions thrill; surge tossing you about and current pulling you too fast to confirm the nudie you catapult over, as you drift up to 6km. Maybe the sharks thrill. For those with more time there are prehistoric-like 7-gill cow sharks near Cape Town and whale sharks at Sodwana Bay. But, no matter where in South Africa you dive, thrills and sharks are (almost) guaranteed.