Face to face with sharks in their natural habitat.

That was the idea. And yes — we absolutely were.

What I didn’t fully appreciate before getting into the water was just how wild this experience really was.

The seas were rough — much rougher than any snorkeling excursion I had ever done — with an active hurricane offshore. The water was choppy, my snorkel kept taking on water, and swimming took real effort. We were told to hold onto a rope and keep ourselves positioned near the boat. We were warned against “thrashing” which made sense outside of the fact that I wasn’t sure if I could follow that advice if I got scared…

About ten minutes before we entered the water, I watched the crew put chum into the ocean.

I noticed the young captain’s back before I got off the boat. He had a number of unusual scars. I didn’t want to embarrass him or put him on the spot, so I simply asked, “Have you ever been bitten?”

He smiled broadly and said, “Never!”

And then I got into the water.

Beneath me was a gray reef shark, and I could see scars across its skin.

That was the moment a thought hit me:

Hold it.

If this isn’t even a safe life for the shark — and the captain has scars all over his back — exactly how safe am I?

Then something happened that actually made me relax.

A huge school of little fish suddenly appeared all around us.

They were beautiful. They seemed almost comforting, like an unexpected bonus to the experience. Instead of feeling alone in open water with sharks beneath me, suddenly I was surrounded by this shimmering mass of little fish.

For a moment, I felt better.

And then:

“EVERYBODY OUT!”

The captain yelled it.

Just like that, whatever calm I had found disappeared.

I was frightened again, struggling in the rough water as they tried to get us back onto the boat. There was no ladder for me to simply climb. Instead, this strong young captain had to haul me up with what looked like all his might.

And through all of that effort, he was still smiling.

His smile seemed completely at odds with how hard he was working to get me out of that water.

Only once we were safely back on the boat did they explain why the trip had been cut short.

One of the crew members told us, “Those little fish reacted to our chum and they like to hide behind people.”

Then came the part that changed the entire experience for me:

“You don’t want to be what stands between a shark and their lunch.”

Well.

That would have been useful information before I decided the adorable little fish were there to make me feel better.

In a matter of minutes, they had gone from comforting companions to the apparent reason we were all being pulled out of the ocean.

And that is when the entire experience started to look different to me.

The chum.
The rough water.
The scars on the shark.
The scars on the captain.
The little fish gathering around us.
And the sudden order to get out.

I did it.

I swam cageless with sharks in Hawaii.

And I am absolutely certain I would not do it again.

One final irritation: I also paid for the photographs from the trip, and as of this writing, I still haven’t received them. After an experience this memorable, I’d at least like the pictures I paid for.