There’s Danger Down Below : Intrepid Divers Go to Great Depths Looking for Adventure of a Lifetime

This diver did step off the back of the boat, without being pushed, into the nearly bottomless Pacific Ocean, swarming with hungry sharks baited up close with blood in the water. --Excerpt from a San Diego Shark Diving Expeditions certificate

Those aboard the Bottom Scratcher can’t help but smile as they read this passage from the document they have set out to earn.

But they can’t hide their apprehension, either. It shows on their faces as they gaze across the vast horizon, toward the middle of nowhere, where sharks will soon be everywhere.

In a few hours, they will be taking that same plunge, one that will cost them $275 apiece. One that will be well worth the price, they hope.

Their reasons?

“It was on my list of things to do,” says Bill Mattman, 55, as the vessel roars west under an overcast sky. “I’ve already jumped from an airplane.”

With Mattman, a security consultant from Laguna Beach, is his wife Joan. “I think it’ll be exciting,” she said. “I just got my pilot’s license four days ago; I must like the excitement in life.”

Mike Parris, 44, of Phoenix, leans against the stern rail, arms crossed and somewhat aloof, remarks: “I’ve never seen a shark up close, really.”

Wayne Mayers, 28, a part-time dive instructor from Cincinnati, merely wants to make his first dive trip in the Pacific a memorable one.

He came to the right place. They don’t have this kind of stuff in Midwest lakes.

Land has long since disappeared from sight. The Bottom Scratcher is alone in a choppy sea. Beneath it, a brilliant charcoal-blue chasm that seems endless. Indeed, more than 3,000feet separate the vessel from the ocean’s bottom.

This is shark country.

This is where Bob Cranston has been coming all season, where his passengers have willingly walked the plank into shark infested waters and hustled the 30 or so feet to the relative safety of two aluminum cages, submerged at eye level with the unpredictable beasts.

The crew slices up frozen mackerel, places the slices in a plastic crate and hangs it over the rail to create an oily “chum slick” to lure the hungry sharks to the boat.

“We’ve had sharks on every trip,” Cranston says. “We’ve been getting mostly blues, but we’ve had at least one mako on every trip.”

Heads turn and eyes widen at the prospect of facing a mako, which will attack humans.

Eyes widen farther when Cranston tells of the mako he encountered on a previous trip, one he says was pushing 12 feet and 1,500 pounds, with eyes black as coal and a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth.

The smaller sharks hurried away when this fellow moved in.

“We had 50- or 60-foot visibility,” Cranston recalls. “I could see shadows in the haze. I saw movement and shape and thought, ‘It’s finally going to happen--we’re going to get a great white.’ ”

When the shark appeared, Cranston, a noted underwater photographer, realized it was a mako, the biggest he had ever seen.

Cranston, whose job is to stay outside the cages and lure smaller sharks close to it with pieces of dead fish, had no place to go because both cages were full.

“He got to within about six feet and we had eye contact,” Cranston says. “I got behind the cage with the cage to my back. The chum line was going right through the cage.”

The shark remained in the area for 10 or 15 minutes, curious but not aggressive. Cranston nonetheless remained glued to the cage.

Finally, the mako, apparently uninterested, swam slowly away, disappearing into the same haze from which it came. Cranston took the opportunity to get the divers back to the boat.

Three of the six were escorted safely back and Cranston was returning for the others when the shark reappeared.

For the first time in his 10 years in the shark-dive business, Cranston swam into one of the cages and closed the door.

The shark, its teeth protruding from its jaw, circled for another 10 minutes, then disappeared again.

Cranston then escorted one diver, who was low on air, back to the boat and was about to go in for the two others when a large fin sliced through the surface.

The mako was back--again.

Cranston had the crew to haul the cages to the boat with the divers still in them.

Awe-struck but unscathed, they climbed aboard with the tale of a lifetime to tell.

*

“I’ll take the blues but I can do without the makos,” says Laura Read, 31, a financial analyst from Scottsdale, Ariz., who now seems to be analyzing her future.

More than an hour has passed since the blood and guts began oozing from the crate. A street-wide slick on an otherwise bumpy sea is spreading west toward the horizon.

All eyes are fixed on the water, but the passing of time and the steady rocking of the boat begins to mesmerize. Some doze in the sun. Others check the cages for reassurance, aware that the moment could come any time.

Suddenly, one of the divers points and cries out: “There, over there.”

A small blue shark has made its way to the source of the slick. It is only three feet long, but it stirs the passengers nonetheless. They don their wet suits and await instructions from Cranston, who waits patiently.

Another shark, barely a foot long, appears behind the first. It can’t be more than a month old, but looks every bit the bully. It looks one way, then the other, then stumbles upon a hunk of dead mackerel, attacking it with a vengeance, rolling over and shaking its head vigorously as it rips into the dead meat.

It swallows the fish and swims off a successful hunter.

“They’re really cute because they have the same attitude as the big ones,” Cranston says. “We get them to bite our fingers right in front of the cage; we can hold one, pass it around and get pictures of it right in the cage.”

Any apprehension the passengers might have had is gone. They want to get into the water.

Finally, enough sharks show for Cranston to get his operation started. One cage is lowered and the first three divers prepare to dive.

Joe Martinez, one of the dive leaders, climbs into his suit of steel mesh, which will protect him from bites, and steps into the water. Immediately his fist comes up, indicating that a mako shark is in the area.

Martinez checks the cages, then comes back for the first three divers, who jump in willingly enough, swim to the cage and close the door behind them.

No big deal. The sharks aren’t cooperating.

A lone three-footer shows for a moment, but is wary and swims off. The others have already disappeared.

Steve Draeger, 40, a Huntington Beach resident who is making his second trip “because there weren’t enough sharks the first time,” says things will be different next time.

“Next time I’m going to Australia (where a similar operation involves diving with great white sharks) or somewhere where the heart goes thump, thump.”

Mayers flew all the way from Cincinnati for this?

Cranston, 38, is not concerned. More chum is sliced and ground and the other cage is lowered. Three more divers enter the water. Three others prepare for their turn.

Finally, more sharks show. Cranston, clad in his steel suit, enters the water and grabs a piece of fish to lure the sharks to the cages. A six-foot blue emerges from the haze to feed with the smaller sharks, which are swarming gracefully about the cage.

The sharks are in a mild frenzy, taking fish from the hands of Cranston and Martinez and biting occasionally at the protected hands that feed them.

The caged passengers are getting the photo opportunity of a lifetime.

For hours, the divers take turns swimming to and from the cages amid the fascinating creatures, marveling at the ease with which they move through the vast, blue surroundings.

“It’s interesting being the one in the cage, instead of like at the zoo when the animals are in the cages and you look at them,” Read remarks after another turn below.

Eventually, the cloud cover returns, the sun’s rays streaking through at various points across the horizon. A navy vessel passes the Bottom Scratcher and heads west. Dolphins leap and frolic in the distance.

Some of the divers, satisfied at what they have done, have called it quits. Others go back for more, and are glad.

A seven-foot mako shark, every bit as mean looking as the one Cranston described, has moved into the area.

Unlike the slender blue, which is deceptively tame-looking, with its teeth concealed by a closed mouth, the mako is powerfully built and swims with its mouth open, as if to show what it has on its mind.

It moves warily about for several minutes before feeling comfortable with the situation, taking fish from the hands of Cranston and Martinez while those in the cages capture the scene with their cameras.

Mayers, having encountered the mako on his last dive, climbs aboard the boat and removes his mask, revealing an ear-to-ear grin.

“You guys missed it,” he says to the others. “My heart was pumping like a buffalo.”

Mattman, meanwhile, is standing at the starboard stern, mentally striking a check on his list.

“I don’t think I’ll do this again,” he says. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing--like jumping from an airplane.”