Shark Bait in Cape Town

The Pit crew, those of us in the bowels of the M/V Explorer, gave each other nicknames the first day we set sail. "Shark Bait", my own, doesn't fully register until I'm 4 feet under in the shark-infested waters off the coast of Cape Town. "Down, Down, Down" yells the boat Captain. Holding our breaths in an open hulled cage we submerge ourselves as the shark nears. Bait is dangling on a rope in front of our cage. The Great White approaches with great stealth and precision. It has hunter instincts and won't attack unless it's prey appears alive. The Captain wiggles the line, feigning movement from the dead carcass. The Great White goes for it. Her jowels open to the size of her body. It's beady eyes staring straight into mine. She's only a few feet from the cage and I'm holding my breath in sheer terror. Gulp, Gulp! The bait is swallowed in a blink of a second and the shark takes off into the murky deep. Up I surface, gasping for air. "My lady, did you see the shark?" shouts the Captain from above. "Eye, eye Captain, I saw her, I saw her!" I yell. "Down, Down, Down, another shark is coming back!" Again we plummet into the deep, cheeks full with oxygen for about a 1 minute thrill ride. Up and down, up and down, this repeats until everyone has their turn seeing the Great White in it's natural habitat. Naturally she's well fed by the time we leave but I wouldn't risk surfing here today, just incase.