'Shark attack: five survivors on what it's like when a great white tries to eat you' diff viewer (0/1)

This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on January 02, 2019 20:00 (UTC). It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2019/jan/03/shark-attack-bitten-great-white-survivors-near-death-experience

The article has changed 4 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Previous version 1 2 3 Next version

Previous version 1 2 3 Next version

Version 0	Version 1
~~Bitten by a great white shark: survivors on their near-death experience~~	Shark attack: five survivors on what it's like when a great white tries to eat you
2019-01-02 20:05:07 UTC	2019-01-03 02:55:07 UTC (about 7 hours later)
On a whisper-still January dawn, the most terrifying day of Allan Oppert’s life began unremarkably and with a feeling of deep calm.	On a whisper-still January dawn, the most terrifying day of Allan Oppert’s life began unremarkably and with a feeling of deep calm.
Like most Sundays, he woke to a knock on the door from his friends Dan and Dave. At Allan’s neat house in the small seaside town of Binningup, in the south-west corner of Western Australia, the three men drank strong coffee before towing Allan’s boat to a nearby ramp where three friends were launching another vessel. The two groups were heading out on the ocean together, a familiar arrangement aimed at ensuring safety.	Like most Sundays, he woke to a knock on the door from his friends Dan and Dave. At Allan’s neat house in the small seaside town of Binningup, in the south-west corner of Western Australia, the three men drank strong coffee before towing Allan’s boat to a nearby ramp where three friends were launching another vessel. The two groups were heading out on the ocean together, a familiar arrangement aimed at ensuring safety.
Oppert turned the key on his boat’s engine as the western horizon illuminated a glassy sea, a low swell barely bothering the shore. At the height of an Australian summer, mornings on the ocean offered early respite from the baking heat and unrelenting wind of the afternoon. The two boats were heading to a dive site that the men visited most weekends of the year, conditions allowing. A 15-minute boat ride from shore, the site featured a roughly cylindrical cavity about 6m wide and 3m deep on the ocean floor. In 33m of water, the “crater” bristled with crayfish, a delicious but formidable-looking crustacean prized for its sweet, delicate flesh. After several hours and two separate dives into the heart of the crater, a single tank of air remained between the six men.	Oppert turned the key on his boat’s engine as the western horizon illuminated a glassy sea, a low swell barely bothering the shore. At the height of an Australian summer, mornings on the ocean offered early respite from the baking heat and unrelenting wind of the afternoon. The two boats were heading to a dive site that the men visited most weekends of the year, conditions allowing. A 15-minute boat ride from shore, the site featured a roughly cylindrical cavity about 6m wide and 3m deep on the ocean floor. In 33m of water, the “crater” bristled with crayfish, a delicious but formidable-looking crustacean prized for its sweet, delicate flesh. After several hours and two separate dives into the heart of the crater, a single tank of air remained between the six men.
I said to Dan, ‘You go,’ and he said, ‘No, you go.’	I said to Dan, ‘You go,’ and he said, ‘No, you go.’
After entering the water for his third dive of the day, this time alone, Oppert, a 42-year-old prison officer, began his descent. The process, as always, involved the release of air from inside his buoyancy vest to enable heavy weights strapped to his hips to drag him from the surface to the ocean floor. But this time he didn’t quite make it. The torpedo-shaped bulk of a huge great white shark inside the crater below loomed into view and, in the nanosecond that followed, Oppert registered both the animal’s curious demeanour – “like a dog on a scent” – and a firm belief that his life would not end there.	After entering the water for his third dive of the day, this time alone, Oppert, a 42-year-old prison officer, began his descent. The process, as always, involved the release of air from inside his buoyancy vest to enable heavy weights strapped to his hips to drag him from the surface to the ocean floor. But this time he didn’t quite make it. The torpedo-shaped bulk of a huge great white shark inside the crater below loomed into view and, in the nanosecond that followed, Oppert registered both the animal’s curious demeanour – “like a dog on a scent” – and a firm belief that his life would not end there.
[The shark is] going over to one spot and having a look and going over to another and having a sniff. These sharks are like dogs, in their gestures and in their behaviour. They hunch up their backs when they are annoyed, and she was annoyed. All of a sudden, she’s spun around. I got about halfway to the bottom. [I thought,] ‘She’s going to attack from the back or she’s going to attack from the side.’ The funny thing is that I didn’t think about dying.	[The shark is] going over to one spot and having a look and going over to another and having a sniff. These sharks are like dogs, in their gestures and in their behaviour. They hunch up their backs when they are annoyed, and she was annoyed. All of a sudden, she’s spun around. I got about halfway to the bottom. [I thought,] ‘She’s going to attack from the back or she’s going to attack from the side.’ The funny thing is that I didn’t think about dying.
An uncannily cool head gave Oppert the presence of mind to reinflate his buoyancy vest, preventing further descent. (Days later, while examining his equipment, he noted the depth gauge registered just 17 metres.)	An uncannily cool head gave Oppert the presence of mind to reinflate his buoyancy vest, preventing further descent. (Days later, while examining his equipment, he noted the depth gauge registered just 17 metres.)
Considering that great white sharks have been clocked swimming 13 metres a second, it is no surprise that the impact of the strike instantly pulled Oppert’s face mask down around his neck.	Considering that great white sharks have been clocked swimming 13 metres a second, it is no surprise that the impact of the strike instantly pulled Oppert’s face mask down around his neck.
It happened in a split second. The mouth’s opened up and she’s hit me in the guts with her nose. I thought: ‘Oh, here we go.’	It happened in a split second. The mouth’s opened up and she’s hit me in the guts with her nose. I thought: ‘Oh, here we go.’
But he kept his regulator – the mouthpiece that delivers air – firmly between his teeth. Throughout the dog-like shaking of his body that followed, he managed to pull the mask back over his face and purge it of water, returning terrifying visibility – an intimate view into the gelatinous gill slits of the world’s biggest predatory fish.	But he kept his regulator – the mouthpiece that delivers air – firmly between his teeth. Throughout the dog-like shaking of his body that followed, he managed to pull the mask back over his face and purge it of water, returning terrifying visibility – an intimate view into the gelatinous gill slits of the world’s biggest predatory fish.
I thought to myself, ‘Whew! It’s big!’ She was clenched down on both legs and the teeth were through to the bone. The pressure was so great that I thought if it gets any tighter, they’ll snap – she’ll snap both my legs off.	I thought to myself, ‘Whew! It’s big!’ She was clenched down on both legs and the teeth were through to the bone. The pressure was so great that I thought if it gets any tighter, they’ll snap – she’ll snap both my legs off.
Oppert’s steel speargun, which that morning had shot some large fish, was at the moment of the attack positioned across his thigh. It would be fair to surmise that the very implement that probably attracted the shark in the first place – by prompting fish distress signals that can travel far across the ocean – also helped to preserve his life by preventing the shark’s teeth from gaining full purchase above his knee.	Oppert’s steel speargun, which that morning had shot some large fish, was at the moment of the attack positioned across his thigh. It would be fair to surmise that the very implement that probably attracted the shark in the first place – by prompting fish distress signals that can travel far across the ocean – also helped to preserve his life by preventing the shark’s teeth from gaining full purchase above his knee.
When the shark released its grip, the inflated buoyancy vest sent Oppert shooting to the surface, where he raised the alarm and was pulled to safety.	When the shark released its grip, the inflated buoyancy vest sent Oppert shooting to the surface, where he raised the alarm and was pulled to safety.
Like many others in Western Australia at the time, Oppert was well aware of a fatal shark attack that had occurred four years earlier on a suburban beach about 150km up the coast. A middle-aged man had been mauled in shallow water in front of dozens of onlookers. But in the years that followed the death of Ken Crew in 2000 – the first such attack in living memory – many West Australians held the view it had been a one-off event, a freakish aberration caused by a “rogue” shark that had “mistaken” the swimmer for a seal. With no subsequent fatality to spook him and no inkling that an attack would kill a surfer further down the coast just six months later, Oppert had descended without a care in the world. It was a decision that nearly cost him his life and has left him 14 years later with the still visible scars from the multiple puncture marks of a shark’s teeth on his legs.	Like many others in Western Australia at the time, Oppert was well aware of a fatal shark attack that had occurred four years earlier on a suburban beach about 150km up the coast. A middle-aged man had been mauled in shallow water in front of dozens of onlookers. But in the years that followed the death of Ken Crew in 2000 – the first such attack in living memory – many West Australians held the view it had been a one-off event, a freakish aberration caused by a “rogue” shark that had “mistaken” the swimmer for a seal. With no subsequent fatality to spook him and no inkling that an attack would kill a surfer further down the coast just six months later, Oppert had descended without a care in the world. It was a decision that nearly cost him his life and has left him 14 years later with the still visible scars from the multiple puncture marks of a shark’s teeth on his legs.
‘This damn big shark’	‘This damn big shark’
Ken Crew’s death in the state capital of Perth changed the city’s notion of itself as a beach-lover’s paradise. It marked a moment of horror that still resonates.	Ken Crew’s death in the state capital of Perth changed the city’s notion of itself as a beach-lover’s paradise. It marked a moment of horror that still resonates.
Eighteen years on, first-person accounts of those who swam with Crew and witnessed his death continue to have an effect on me, particularly those of his friend Jerry Ventouras.	Eighteen years on, first-person accounts of those who swam with Crew and witnessed his death continue to have an effect on me, particularly those of his friend Jerry Ventouras.
I turned around and saw this enormous fin travelling on the inside of Ken. It came in behind him. It was surreal. This damn big shark – somewhere between five metres and six metres – head up out of the water, its jaws wide open surging towards Ken. Without even stopping, [it] seemed to grab him across the lower half of his body, lift him out of the water and give him a couple of shakes like a dog would shake at a bone, [and then] dropped him in the middle of the pool in a great cloud of blood. There was no sound.	I turned around and saw this enormous fin travelling on the inside of Ken. It came in behind him. It was surreal. This damn big shark – somewhere between five metres and six metres – head up out of the water, its jaws wide open surging towards Ken. Without even stopping, [it] seemed to grab him across the lower half of his body, lift him out of the water and give him a couple of shakes like a dog would shake at a bone, [and then] dropped him in the middle of the pool in a great cloud of blood. There was no sound.
West Australians were slow to forget what they learned about great white sharks that day. For most of us, venturing into the open ocean is a matter of idle leisure no more. But the state’s transition from heedless to near-hysterical has been a while in the making.	West Australians were slow to forget what they learned about great white sharks that day. For most of us, venturing into the open ocean is a matter of idle leisure no more. But the state’s transition from heedless to near-hysterical has been a while in the making.
Between September 2011 and July 2012, five people were killed by white sharks. Their deaths brought a tangible sense of panic and turned WA into an undisputed white shark hotspot. With each new encounter, swimmers, surfers and divers have become both more jittery and polarised in their views about what should be done.	Between September 2011 and July 2012, five people were killed by white sharks. Their deaths brought a tangible sense of panic and turned WA into an undisputed white shark hotspot. With each new encounter, swimmers, surfers and divers have become both more jittery and polarised in their views about what should be done.
The WA government has installed measures to help protect ocean users. A network of 30 satellite-linked shark monitoring receivers, which signal the presence of tagged sharks, is one line of defence, in addition to the introduction of non-lethal “smart” drum lines – a system in which sharks are baited on a hook, then tagged and released offshore.	The WA government has installed measures to help protect ocean users. A network of 30 satellite-linked shark monitoring receivers, which signal the presence of tagged sharks, is one line of defence, in addition to the introduction of non-lethal “smart” drum lines – a system in which sharks are baited on a hook, then tagged and released offshore.
This summer, some of WA’s most popular surf breaks will be linked for the first time to this broader network of receivers, and smart drum lines will be trialled. This follows the cancellation in April of the high-profile international surf competition the Margaret River Pro, after two surfers were attacked by great white sharks just hours, and a few kilometres, apart.	This summer, some of WA’s most popular surf breaks will be linked for the first time to this broader network of receivers, and smart drum lines will be trialled. This follows the cancellation in April of the high-profile international surf competition the Margaret River Pro, after two surfers were attacked by great white sharks just hours, and a few kilometres, apart.
The situation became untenable when the Brazilian pro surfer and current world champion, Gabriel Medina, told his 6 million Instagram followers he didn’t feel safe competing in Margaret River – an Australian surfing mecca.	The situation became untenable when the Brazilian pro surfer and current world champion, Gabriel Medina, told his 6 million Instagram followers he didn’t feel safe competing in Margaret River – an Australian surfing mecca.
Despite bolstered aerial surveillance, smart drum lines and the addition of further shark monitoring receivers, confidence is far from buoyant. Most surfers and divers understand that only tagged sharks moving into specific swimming and surfing areas can be pinged. In WA, that’s 450 sharks, of which just 87 are great white sharks, some of them too small to pose a threat.	Despite bolstered aerial surveillance, smart drum lines and the addition of further shark monitoring receivers, confidence is far from buoyant. Most surfers and divers understand that only tagged sharks moving into specific swimming and surfing areas can be pinged. In WA, that’s 450 sharks, of which just 87 are great white sharks, some of them too small to pose a threat.
A separate problem is that many south-west surf breaks are located in deep water above dark substrate, making shark-spotting from the air almost impossible. But Surf Life Saving WA’s ramped-up drone monitoring program is finding plenty of sharks, and more surfers and swimmers are staying informed about problem areas via SLSWA’s Twitter feed.	A separate problem is that many south-west surf breaks are located in deep water above dark substrate, making shark-spotting from the air almost impossible. But Surf Life Saving WA’s ramped-up drone monitoring program is finding plenty of sharks, and more surfers and swimmers are staying informed about problem areas via SLSWA’s Twitter feed.
Survivors of shark attacks and their families often lament the fact that sharks were spotted in the area hours or days beforehand and, had they had known this, they would never have entered the water.	Survivors of shark attacks and their families often lament the fact that sharks were spotted in the area hours or days beforehand and, had they had known this, they would never have entered the water.
‘Felt like a brick wall’	‘Felt like a brick wall’
In contrast to Allan Oppert’s lack of concern about the shark risk, as he descended for his third dive of the day in 2004, Bernie Williams certainly did worry and was relying on his dive buddy’s shark shield (a device worn on the ankle that emits an electromagnetic field to deter sharks) on the 2006 morning he met the protagonist of his worst nightmare.	In contrast to Allan Oppert’s lack of concern about the shark risk, as he descended for his third dive of the day in 2004, Bernie Williams certainly did worry and was relying on his dive buddy’s shark shield (a device worn on the ankle that emits an electromagnetic field to deter sharks) on the 2006 morning he met the protagonist of his worst nightmare.
The then 46-year-old contracts manager was on his second dive looking for exotic shells and crayfish with his friends Brian and Jenny, in 20m of water 6km off City beach in Perth. About 15 minutes into the dive, he heard an approaching boat. Sensing it had pulled up close to his own unoccupied vessel and that keys and wallets may be the target, he ascended to briefly check on the visitors. Satisfied that they seemed happily preoccupied with a matter on the opposite side of their boat, Williams descended once more. What he didn’t know on that choppy January morning was that the visiting boaters – who had been fishing nearby when a huge shark appeared beside their vessel – had come to warn him and his dive buddies about the danger. They had been looking for dive bubbles over the side of their boat when Williams briefly surfaced behind them, then quickly descended again.	The then 46-year-old contracts manager was on his second dive looking for exotic shells and crayfish with his friends Brian and Jenny, in 20m of water 6km off City beach in Perth. About 15 minutes into the dive, he heard an approaching boat. Sensing it had pulled up close to his own unoccupied vessel and that keys and wallets may be the target, he ascended to briefly check on the visitors. Satisfied that they seemed happily preoccupied with a matter on the opposite side of their boat, Williams descended once more. What he didn’t know on that choppy January morning was that the visiting boaters – who had been fishing nearby when a huge shark appeared beside their vessel – had come to warn him and his dive buddies about the danger. They had been looking for dive bubbles over the side of their boat when Williams briefly surfaced behind them, then quickly descended again.
Back on the ocean floor, Williams found that his friends were nowhere to be seen. So he bounced about two metres off the ocean floor to clock their position. Mid-bounce he was struck from behind with an immense force.	Back on the ocean floor, Williams found that his friends were nowhere to be seen. So he bounced about two metres off the ocean floor to clock their position. Mid-bounce he was struck from behind with an immense force.
I am not very small and for something to take me from zero to 100km an hour in a fraction of a second, bending me double, you think, ‘God, have I been hit by a submarine?’ It came up from below, behind, and rammed me, just hammered me. When I first got hit I was winded, picked up by the left arm and pushed through the water so the visibility went. I was stunned, didn’t know what was going on. I had a dead weight hanging off my arm. Your peripheral vision in a face mask is nothing [so] when it slowed down a bit I could swing my head around. Then the bells went off. A shark’s eyeball literally filled my face mask. I remember looking down its side when it was swinging me around like a dog with a goanna and I noticed my flippers were about half-way down its length. A big shark. It was just so solid. Felt like a brick wall.	I am not very small and for something to take me from zero to 100km an hour in a fraction of a second, bending me double, you think, ‘God, have I been hit by a submarine?’ It came up from below, behind, and rammed me, just hammered me. When I first got hit I was winded, picked up by the left arm and pushed through the water so the visibility went. I was stunned, didn’t know what was going on. I had a dead weight hanging off my arm. Your peripheral vision in a face mask is nothing [so] when it slowed down a bit I could swing my head around. Then the bells went off. A shark’s eyeball literally filled my face mask. I remember looking down its side when it was swinging me around like a dog with a goanna and I noticed my flippers were about half-way down its length. A big shark. It was just so solid. Felt like a brick wall.
Apparently hampered by the position of the spear gun along Williams’ left side, the animal released its grip and the diver found himself on the ocean floor, where he quickly took refuge in the recess of a reef ledge.	Apparently hampered by the position of the spear gun along Williams’ left side, the animal released its grip and the diver found himself on the ocean floor, where he quickly took refuge in the recess of a reef ledge.
I tucked up against a wall. I remember kneeling on the sand and [the ledge] came up to just over waist height. I was hunched down but there wasn’t enough room for me to get everything in there. I was really puffing hard, breathing like a steam train, beginning to hyperventilate. I remember hearing my heart banging. Banging away, banging away. Thinking to myself, ‘I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead. This thing has got my name punched … it’s not going away.’ I was that close to going to the dark side – going into a blind panic, close to saying, ‘You can’t do anything, you might as well just roll over.’	I tucked up against a wall. I remember kneeling on the sand and [the ledge] came up to just over waist height. I was hunched down but there wasn’t enough room for me to get everything in there. I was really puffing hard, breathing like a steam train, beginning to hyperventilate. I remember hearing my heart banging. Banging away, banging away. Thinking to myself, ‘I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead. This thing has got my name punched … it’s not going away.’ I was that close to going to the dark side – going into a blind panic, close to saying, ‘You can’t do anything, you might as well just roll over.’
[But] I was really annoyed with it, that it was going to stop me seeing my family, actually kill me. You think to yourself you [will die] unless you try and work out how you are going to get out of this. I managed to slow [my breathing] down, checked my gear was OK, keeping an eye on the shark. Still had plenty of air. It went away into the gloom. I had a rough idea where I’d seen it disappear. Next thing it came flying across the reef at me. I had my spear gun and I thought I could shoot it but then it’s just going to get annoyed and crazier. I saw it come in and out of the gloom. Then it charged. It ran me down like a car. It was like a dart. The distance would have been 15 to 20 metres and it covered that in a couple of seconds. I had just enough time to lift my spear gun and try to fend it off. It went straight over my head. It would have been one metre above me. The girth of the thing. Like a car going over. Massive. Absolutely massive.	[But] I was really annoyed with it, that it was going to stop me seeing my family, actually kill me. You think to yourself you [will die] unless you try and work out how you are going to get out of this. I managed to slow [my breathing] down, checked my gear was OK, keeping an eye on the shark. Still had plenty of air. It went away into the gloom. I had a rough idea where I’d seen it disappear. Next thing it came flying across the reef at me. I had my spear gun and I thought I could shoot it but then it’s just going to get annoyed and crazier. I saw it come in and out of the gloom. Then it charged. It ran me down like a car. It was like a dart. The distance would have been 15 to 20 metres and it covered that in a couple of seconds. I had just enough time to lift my spear gun and try to fend it off. It went straight over my head. It would have been one metre above me. The girth of the thing. Like a car going over. Massive. Absolutely massive.
The speed of the shark as it bit down on Williams’ elbow and vigorously shook him created an unusual wound – saltwater forced into the bite area at high pressure had a gouging effect, but he didn’t become aware of the pain until he realised the shark’s tactics had moved him further away from the reef and out on to the sand. Returning to the cover of the reef ledge, he noticed he was bleeding badly and visibility was diminishing.	The speed of the shark as it bit down on Williams’ elbow and vigorously shook him created an unusual wound – saltwater forced into the bite area at high pressure had a gouging effect, but he didn’t become aware of the pain until he realised the shark’s tactics had moved him further away from the reef and out on to the sand. Returning to the cover of the reef ledge, he noticed he was bleeding badly and visibility was diminishing.
Blood was making the water shimmery. At that stage I was feeling woozy, beginning to fade. The shark charged again. It [got to] within a couple of metres and all of a sudden it did a shimmy in the water, turned its tail and took off. The speed of the thing!	Blood was making the water shimmery. At that stage I was feeling woozy, beginning to fade. The shark charged again. It [got to] within a couple of metres and all of a sudden it did a shimmy in the water, turned its tail and took off. The speed of the thing!
Assuming the animal had disappeared and would soon make another run at him, Williams turned in anticipation, to see his two dive friends swimming quickly, elbow to elbow, across the reef. With Jenny signalling that she had just seen a giant shark, it was soon clear that the pair had arrived with Jenny’s shark shield just in time. Bernie believes the abrupt shift in the shark’s behaviour and swimming direction as it homed in for another strike signalled its clear discomfort once inside the orbit of the approaching shield.	Assuming the animal had disappeared and would soon make another run at him, Williams turned in anticipation, to see his two dive friends swimming quickly, elbow to elbow, across the reef. With Jenny signalling that she had just seen a giant shark, it was soon clear that the pair had arrived with Jenny’s shark shield just in time. Bernie believes the abrupt shift in the shark’s behaviour and swimming direction as it homed in for another strike signalled its clear discomfort once inside the orbit of the approaching shield.
He believes his friends may not have returned to find him for another 10 minutes had they not seen the shark, as both had plenty of air in their tanks. By the time the three pulled themselves to the safety of the boat just a couple of minutes later, Bernie’s own tank was almost empty.	He believes his friends may not have returned to find him for another 10 minutes had they not seen the shark, as both had plenty of air in their tanks. By the time the three pulled themselves to the safety of the boat just a couple of minutes later, Bernie’s own tank was almost empty.