Shark Games Part IV

Pierre De Lespinois had been a cameraman during the original Virgin Islands competition.  Today, he is a highly successful film producer/director and an acknowledged pioneer in the theatrical use of high definition video.  Pierre is a brilliant, innovative director and a good friend.  But in 1979 he hatched a surprisingly bad idea.  He had contracted with the, then infant, Home Box Office cable channel to produce a low-budget shark tagging competition in the Virgin Islands - the same nearly sharkless location that resulted in near disaster for the original CBS competition!  The results were predictable.

Pierre called me in the spring of 1979 after he had been in production for three weeks.  He was in trouble. His budget was exhausted and his crew had disbanded. His competition had consisted of two opposing teams of Virgin Island divers each tasked with tagging as many sharks as possible during a ten-minute interval. Originally, Pierre had intended that a dorsal fin tag would be worth three points and a body tag would be worth two.  Unfortunately, the competition ended with no sharks being tagged.  One team member thought he had seen a shark. "Maybe it was a barracuda,"  the competitor said.  So competition scoring was modified to allow a point for a shark sighting.  The first place Virgin Islands team got one point for maybe seeing a shark.

"Can you really get sharks out there in California?" Pierre asked me on the phone.
"Every day, guaranteed," I replied.
"No, really, how many sharks can you get?”  Pierre asked again."
Usually we get thirty or more.  Worst case, we'd have twenty by the end of the day," I replied.
"No, really, if I came out there how many sharks do you think you could get?" 

  Pierre and his cameraman came to San Diego with enough money for a one-day charter and a hundred pounds of bait.  Larry Cochrane, Marty Snyderman, and I agreed to be competitors. We all went to sea on Larry's boat, the "Grin'n Bear."  Technically, our California team would be competing against the two Virgin Islands teams.  Marty, Larry, and I felt quite confident since the Virgin Island teams had collectively amassed only one point for maybe seeing a shark.  It was obvious, therefore, that the real competition would be between members of the California team. At 9:00am, Larry lowered the wire basket filled with frozen albacore heads and we all began to wait.  Pierre waited rather nervously.  He white-knuckled the gunwale and starred into the dark water preying for salvation to appear in the form of large cartilaginous fish.

In those days, it mattered little how early you began baiting for blue sharks in California.  They seemed to begin showing up around noon whether you began baiting at 7:00am or at 10:00am.  By 2:00pm we would usually have thirty or more.  Sometimes we'd have over a hundred.  Less than twenty was almost unheard of.  I had explained all this to Pierre on the phone.  But that didn't prevent him from white-knuckling the gunwale.  I decided to have a little fun at his expense.

I whispered to Marty and Larry, "When the first shark shows up, let's all get excited like it's a big deal and start madly throwing our diving gear together just to see how wound-up we can get Pierre."  Larry and Marty were aware of Pierre's intense anxiety and being sensitive, compassionate individuals, they eagerly agreed to cause Pierre as much distress as possible.

Almost at the stroke of noon, a five-foot blue shark ascended to test the bait cage.  "Shark!" Pierre yelled.  Marty, Larry, and I rushed to the gunwale of the Grin'n Bear, saw the shark, and also began yelling

"Shark!""Get your gear," I yelled.
"Get more bait in the water," Marty cried.
"Let's go, let's go, let's go," screamed Larry. 

During the competition, Pierre's cameraman would be outside the shark cage with the two non-competing competitors acting as safety divers.  Pierre would be stationed inside the shark cage and would act as score- keeper and judge. Since Pierre had no experience diving with blue sharks, we had strongly recommended that he stay in the shark cage at all times unless accompanied outside by a safety diver. 

It was nearly 5:00pm when it came my turn to compete.  Marty Snyderman and Larry Cochrane had scored thirty-three points and thirty-seven points respectively.  Their technique had been simple and effective.  At the beginning of competition, each moved away from the shark cage, began squishing up a three-pound mackerel, then used their fists to ward off sharks that came in to bite whatever body part seemed most appetizing.  Competitors were awarded a point each time they punched a shark in the nose, or grabbed its tail as it went by.  Points were awarded whether the touches were intentional scores or simply acts of self-defense.

By the time it was my turn, the sharks were frustrated and aggressive; factors that would work in my favor, or result in sudden weight loss.

There is a interesting psychological phenomenon associated with divers confronting their first shark cage experience.  As they begin their dive, most first-timers can't imagine any incentive strong enough to cause them to leave the cage and swim openly with the sharks.  However, after a half-hour or so many look for almost any excuse to go outside.  Pierre was a classic case.  Everyone seemed to be having more fun outside where all the danger was.  Near the end of my competition interval, I had ceased touching sharks for points and was strictly punching sharks that were trying to remove flesh.  Unable to get my attention to give me a two-minute warning, Pierre decided to leave the cage unescorted.  Once outside, Pierre swam to within ten feet of where I was struggling to retain my appendages and paused to hold up two fingers.          

To a blue shark, anything not moving seems a safe target for a taste-test. Pierre wore no hood, and his head was perfectly stationary.  A five-foot blue shark swam over the shark cage and descended straight down for it.

Fortunately, the cameraman was positioned behind me at the time and Pierre was in his frame as the shark struck the top of his head.  This, of course, made for great television. The shark managed to inflict a nasty series of cuts around the circumference Pierre's head just above the ears before Pierre withdrew his head into a cavity, previously unknown to medical science, that instantly appeared between his shoulder blades.  When HBO aired the program, they repeated that shot no less than four times.  In slow motion, Pierre pauses to hold up two fingers, the shark descends and bites, and then, instantly, Pierre becomes a human turtle.

By the end of my competition interval, I had won handily having touched fifty-two sharks in ten minutes.  Certainly, many of those scores were made on sharks that had returned for additional abuse.  Still, it was a busy ten minutes and I deserved to be awarded the championship.  Unfortunately, prize money was out of the question and no competition award was given.  Marty contends that there had been a competition award and describes it as a beautifully sculptured mako shark made of milk chocolate.  He says that I ate the award before anyone had a chance to examine or share it.  Although this behavior is not inconsistent with my nature, the chocolate shark award was strictly a Snyderman fabrication.  Nevertheless, Pierre's program was saved and he was greatly appreciative.  He has returned the favor countless times over the years leaving me hopelessly indebted.

There were a few other Shark Games produced before abusing sharks for competition fell entirely out of favor.  Larry Cochrane went on to act as production manager and competitor for an NBC episode of the series Games People Play where he won by scoring the greatest number of sharks that could be thrown through a Hula Hoop in fifteen minutes.  I wasn't along for that one, but I understand there were some humorous moments.  Throwing blue sharks through Hula Hoops may not be the best way to reach retirement age without major disfigurement.  But for a diver of Larry's experience, it is not unreasonable to expect to survive a fifteen-minute competition. 

The NBC competition was scheduled for two days, but Larry was certain they would be finished after day one.  Early that first morning Larry and his crew lowered the bait cage over the side of the 65-foot charter boat, San Dollar, as it drifted 60 miles west of San Diego.  By noon, two mako sharks showed up. 

In California, mako sharks often arrived early in the day to investigate the bait cage.  But they were always replaced by a couple dozen blue sharks by late afternoon.  Well, almost always.  By 3pm the San Dollar was surrounded by twenty mako sharks, but not a single blue.  The most makos Larry and I had ever previously attracted in one day was five and these were gone by late afternoon as the blue sharks gathered in number.  Attracting twenty mako sharks and no blue sharks was an unheard-of situation.  No one in their right mind would attempt grabbing a mako shark to throw through a Hula Hoop.

To the NBC producers, however, a shark was a shark.  So they understandably found it both puzzling and distressing that none of their fearless shark-diving competitors were willing to enter the water. NBC had spent a bunch of money to provide the logistical support for hero divers who all claimed they could throw more sharks through a Hula Hoop than any other diver on Earth.  Now they wouldn't go in the water because they were afraid of the sharks!  "You'd have to be crazy to try throwing a mako shark through a Hula Hoop," Larry explained as the first day ended with no attempt at competition.

For the second day of competition, Larry moved the boat forty miles east where he was able to attract a small school of blue sharks.  Larry prevailed over divers Tom Adams, Fred Fischer, and Jeremiah Sullivan by throwing four blue sharks through a Hula Hoop in fifteen minutes.  He received a $1,000 prize.

As far as I know, Larry's Hula Hoop competition was the last of the Shark Games.  So it was with some surprise that, more than twenty years later, I received a call from Stuart Goodman (now nearly a year ago as I write this) suggesting that the time was right for another shark tagging competition. 

© Howard Hall

“The market is perfect for another shark tagging competition,” Stu said.  “I know I can get the money from cable and I want you to help me put it together just like before.  Whatdaya say?”

And here is where my story comes full circle.  I remember feeling a bit dizzy as I explained to Stu that things had changed in California waters.  Drift gill nets had been introduced in 1978. In the years since, California waters had been efficiently swept clean of sharks and other large predators.       

"Today, you're lucky to attract fifteen sharks on a good day," I said. "Many days you go without seeing a single shark."

"I thought gill nets were banned in California," Stu exclaimed.

"No, Stu, that’s a tragic myth.   The California Fish and Game Commission pulled a fast one on us there.  They banned in-shore gill nets about ten years ago.  By the time the in-shore nets were banned, however, there was almost nothing left to catch in an in-shore net.  The fishermen really didn't care very much.  The Fish and Game got a lot of good press over the move.  Everyone thought that was the end of gill nets in California.  But the real killers, the drift gill nets, continued to be used are still out there every single night killing everything that swims into them.  Blue sharks are discarded as "incidental kill."  Their population has been decimated," I replied.

"They're all gone?” Stu cried.

I thought about that a moment.  Saying blue sharks are gone is certainly an exaggeration.  Doc Anes of San Diego Shark Diving (http://www.sdsharkdiving.com/) can still find blue sharks most of the time.  But photographers who want to add this species to their library should call Doc sooner rather than later.

"It's just not practical anymore, Stu.  The big numbers of blue sharks are gone, captured in gill nests and discarded as waste. Today, we could end up having no more luck than you did in the Virgin Islands in 1978.  It's not worth the risk."