1. 24 A F R I C A G EO G R A P H I C • O C TO B E R 20 1 3
SHARK WATCHERS
25W W W. A F R I C AG EO G R A P H I C .CO M
With the advent of summer in South Africa’s
Western Cape, two things happen: people flock to
Cape Town’s beaches; and the great white sharks of
False Bay leave their winter hunting grounds around
Seal Island and head inshore to follow the fish shoals
that congregate along the shoreline. It could be (and
has been) a volatile combination, but for the sterling
efforts of a home-grown NGO. Photojournalist –
and surfer – Cheryl-Samantha Owen meets
the Shark Spotters.
TEXT & PHOTOGRAPHS BY CHERYL-SAMANTHA OWEN
FLYING
THE FLAG
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2. 26 A F R I C A G EO G R A P H I C • O C TO B E R 20 1 3 27W W W. A F R I C AG EO G R A P H I C .CO M
SHARK WATCHERSSHARK WATCHERS
W
hipping the mountain at a
feverish pace before tumbling
over its craggy edges, the
Cape’s roaring south-easterly
wind casts its fury on False
Bay. But the Atlantic doesn’t cower and
the waves battle forward – line after line
decorated with a posse of summer wave-
riders. High above the duelling sea, wind
and surfers, a pair of eyes notices a dark
shape moving eastward into the bay,
about 20 metres beyond the back line of
breakers. Experience says without hesita-
tion that it is a great white shark. A
message is sent via hand-held radio to a
counterpart on the beach below and with-
in seconds a siren wails, sending a very
clear warning to everyone in the water,
me included, that a white shark has
joined the party. The next wave is a ‘fami-
ly wave’ as every surfer paddles to catch it
back to the safety of the beach.
Dennis Chikodze is a professional shark
spotter, a member of a unique corps that
patrols an arc of beaches around the
southern tip of Africa. He and his simple
equipment (polarised sunglasses, binocu-
lars and a hand-held radio) are all that
stand between a close encounter of the
human and shark kind in these waters.
‘We try to minimise the risk of a shark
attack, but of course we can never guaran-
tee it,’ Chikodze told me later. ‘Often bad
water visibility, wind like this and glare
make shark spotting very difficult.’
O
ur evolutionary path has kept
humans off the white shark’s menu,
but with more of us entering their
domain and staying in the water for lon-
ger we sometimes get in the way. Since
1960 there have been 29 recorded shark
attacks off Cape Town’s beaches. Of these,
16 have occurred since January 2000; five
have been fatal. All involved white sharks.
After each incident the ocean was aban-
doned; even the water seemed darker,
more sullen… Surfers and swimmers kept
away, and businesses along the coast suf-
fered painful losses in revenue. Shark hate
campaigns ensued and terrified people
joined in the media hype vilifying the
animals. Someone suggested tying helium
balloons to the tails of great whites so that
they could be tracked; someone else felt
that feeding them chicken carcasses filled
with broken glass would solve the prob-
lem. In a more rational response, local
surfer Greg Bertish, together with Fiona
Chudleigh and lifesaver Clive Wakeford,
started an informal shark-spotting and
warning system by enlisting the help of
car guards and trek-net fishermen at look-
out points on the mountains above
Muizenberg and Fish Hoek, two of the
city’s most popular – and most affected –
beaches.
In 2004, after a swimmer lost her life
and a 16-year-old surfer was left without
a leg, the initiative, which Bertish and
Wakeford had driven for two years, was
formally adopted by the City of Cape
Town and marine conservation organ-
isations. Shark Spotters is now a regis-
tered non-governmental organisation
(NGO), funded by the Save Our Seas
Foundation and the city. It is aligned
with the National Sea Rescue Institute,
lifesaving clubs, Disaster Risk Manage-
ment and emergency services.
W
ith the clarion call of the siren, a
white flag emblazoned with the
black silhouette of a shark is raised
at both ends of Surfers’ Corner between
Muizenberg’s landmark beach huts.
Replacing its green counterpart sporting
an outline of a shark (representing good
visibility and no sharks sighted), it indi-
cates that a white shark is within sight
and that the beach is closed to human
ocean-goers. Considering that sharks
have patrolled the oceans since long
before we were around, we really are in
no position to resent being called away
from their home.
The Shark Spotter’s flag system may not
be failsafe, but when I am surfing in False
Bay (and feeling a bit like a seal, the
sharks’ favourite meal), the knowledge
that the spotting team is watching my
back does lower the volume on that nasty
Jaws theme. Up to 22 spotters operate at
five of Cape Town’s most popular beaches,
scanning the sea during daylight hours on
every day of the year (three additional
beaches are manned on a seasonal basis).
Their radio activity is monitored by a proj-
ect manager who, upon hearing that a
shark has been sighted, broadcasts the
message via Twitter, Facebook and the
Shark Spotters’ website.
Since its inception, the NGO has record-
ed more than 1 400 shark sightings. It is
the only programme of its kind in the
world, and its success is a salute to
the city’s rejection of tradition-
al methods of reducing shark
populations such as shark
nets, drumlines (a system of
baited hooks attached to
anchored drums) and culls.
Human–wildlife conflicts, both terres-
trial and marine, tend to be solved to the
detriment of the animal and the environ-
ment. Think of Africa’s crop-raiding ele-
phants and monkeys – shot, snared or
poisoned; the harmless grass snake bask-
ing in the flowerbed – decapitated; sharks
biting humans off the coast of KwaZulu-
Natal – shark nets, which reduce shark
(and other marine animal) populations
through entanglement, installed. The
shark-spotting programme replaces exter-
mination with balance, attempting to
keep those of us who use the ocean in one
piece while conserving the lives of sharks.
It’s a shift that comes at a critical time.
Sharks are under severe pressure.
Populations around the world are facing
unsustainable exploitation rates and the
survivors are being driven into a few well-
protected pockets dotted around our
oceans. Their evolutionary adaptations,
which have seen them through millions
of years, have left them powerless against
today’s heavily armed fishing fleets,
which either target them or kill them as
bycatch.
We have a greater chance of
dying from a bee sting or
being struck by lightning
(or, for that matter, dat-
ing Brad Pitt), than being
bitten by a shark. Yet,
BITTEN BY A SHARK1 in 11.5 millionDEATH BY A BEE STING1 in 6 millionSTRUCK BY LIGHTNING1 in 3 million
AGAINST THEOD
DS
Reducing the risks
If you plan to hit the Cape’s beaches this
summer, keep the following tips in mind:
Stay out of murky water, especially
near river mouths.
Don’t splash around too much.
Don’t swim near sharks’ potential prey
– schools of fish, seals, birds and/or
dolphins.
Don’t wear contrasting colours.
Limit your time behind the breakers
(more than 70 per cent of sightings are
behind the surf zone).
There is safety in numbers – swim, surf
or kayak in groups.
Take note of recent sightings and use a
beach where spotters are on duty.
The shark-spotting programme
replaces extermination with
balance, attempting to keep
those of us who use the ocean
in one piece while conserving
the lives of sharks
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3. 28 A F R I C A G EO G R A P H I C • O C TO B E R 20 1 3
SHARK WATCHERS
despite what environmental writer Juliet
Eilperin calls, ‘the modest threat they pose
to us, and the grave threat we pose to
them’, human beings are resolutely irratio-
nal about sharks. We love to love, and
therefore protect, the creatures we relate to
– the unthreatening cute
and charismatic ones,
those that stand on two
legs or live in caring
family groups. Sharks’
failure to behave in a
human-like way could
be part of the reason
we’re so scared of them.
(Fear of being eaten is
another, so could the
fact that they’ve been around, in a
remarkably unaltered form, since the time
of the dinosaurs). ‘And,’ as Alison Kock,
research manager at Shark Spotters points
out, ‘people who are afraid are less likely
to support research and conservation.’
Yet, slowly we are becoming enlight-
ened. South Africa was the first country to
formally protect the white shark in 1991.
Within the succeeding decade Namibia,
Malta, Australia and the US followed suit.
Marine biologists and conservationists
have also started to encourage the use of
more accurate terms to describe shark–
human interactions – ‘encounters’ or
‘bites’ as opposed to ‘attacks’. (Seventy per
cent of white shark bites are of an investi-
gatory nature or a case of mistaken identi-
ty, rather than specifically for feeding.)
Kock says that she’s already noticed
a change in attitudes. When Shark
Spotters first started tweeting sightings,
she was worried about adding to the nega-
tive hype. ‘On some days, it’s really busy
out there, with three to four sharks being
seen and, initially, each sighting got a lot
of attention,’ she says. ‘But, that’s fallen
away to a degree. Now we’re starting to
understand that that’s just what white
sharks do. And with that understanding,
hopefully will come respect and apprecia-
tion.’
Her words echo those of Senegalese
environmentalist Baba Dioum, who said,
‘In the end we will conserve only what we
love. We will love only what we under-
stand.’ Until recently, we understood sur-
prisingly little about sharks. Even today,
we’re somewhat in the dark about basic
information such as where they mate or
give birth, how long they live and where
they go.
When it comes to white sharks in False
Bay, however, we have learned a thing or
two. We know where they are each sea-
son. During autumn and winter the
sharks stay close to Seal Island’s wealth of
easy-to-catch juvenile seals, then as spring
and summer roll around they head to the
s u r f , c h a s i n g
migratory fish
along the beach.
Their unwavering
pursuit of prey
should ease our
minds to some
degree – if we
were on their
menu, popular
surf spots would
be munching zones of note.
Data recorded by spotters on duty,
including the number of sharks sighted,
their behaviour, sea conditions and the
number of water users, are helping scien-
tists to gain a better understanding of the
‘On some days, it’s really busy
out there, with three to four
sharks being seen and, initially,
each sighting got a lot of at-
tention … Now we’re starting
to understand that that’s just
what white sharks do’
No-go zone for sharks
White sharks seem to have taken a liking
to Fish Hoek and, as a result, tourism has
turned its back on this once popular sea-
side town. For the sake of the local com-
munity, the bathers, swimmers and the
young lifeguards in training, the City of
CapeTown decided to try the installation
of shark exclusion nets for this beach.
The nets are not permanent structures,
but manually rolled out diagonally across
an area less than the size of two rugby
fields, running from Jaggers Walk on the
south to the law enforcement offices in
the beach. They are small mesh nets
designed to act as a barrier to sharks,
while preventing the capture or entangle-
ment of marine animals.
conditions that create higher risks of
encounters with white sharks and how
we can avoid them. A new study by the
NGO reveals that sea surface temperature
and the phase of the moon significantly
affect the movements of these apex
predators in False Bay. You’re eight times
more likely to bump into a white shark
off Muizenberg (five times off Fish Hoek)
when the sea surface temperature reach-
es 18 degrees Celsius than at 14 degrees
or less. Because white sharks are able to
regulate their body temperature, this
partiality to warmer waters is more likely
a result of following their dinner than a
longing for the tropics.
As for the lunar cycle, the new moon
seems to herald sharks inshore more
often than the full moon, night or day.
Again, scientists think this is linked to
their prey and the increased activity
inshore during spring tides. One more
point worth considering is that at Fish
Hoek shark sightings are 1.6 times high-
er during the afternoon shift compared
to the morning, but at Muizenberg the
time of day makes no difference.
T
he question is, will
all this data gather-
ing make a differ-
ence? Will ocean users
pander to the calling of a
summer’s afternoon
when the waters are
warm and the new moon
is a sliver in the sky, or
will they synchronise
with the lunar calendar
and chilly seas for scientif-
ically predicted safer surfs?
We already know that the
population of white sharks near the shore
is greatest in summer, yet the number of
people in the water also peaks in this sea-
son. I believe the call of good surf or sim-
ply the urge to dive in will win, provided
that time has calmed the panic after any
encounters – and as long as the Shark
Spotters are there.
To find out more about Shark Spotters (includ-
ing donation information), go to www.
sharkspotters.co.za or follow them on
N
Fish Hoek
Muizenberg
Muizenberg beach
Cape Point
Seal Island
5 km
ATLANTIC
OCEAN
False Bay
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FLAG WARNING SYSTEM
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