SUP, Sharks and Blood In The Water

I’m not sure why they call them Stand Up Paddle Boards (SUPs). Kneeling Paddle Boards or Lie On Your Belly Paddle Boards or Spend a Lot of Time in the Water Paddle Boards may be more descriptive names. We recently bought one.

We bought it from another cruiser when we were still in La Cruz, Mexico. Other than the day we bought it, we didn’t use it in Mexico. We deflated it and stored it below ready for the passage.

Once in the Marquesas, I decided to give it a try. We were in Daniel’s Bay, Nuku-Hiva. I dragged it out of its storage spot, unrolled it and inflated it. It was a fairly calm day. There was a bit of chop on the water but it wasn’t too bad. I couldn’t stand up. Sharlene was kind enough to take video of me endlessly falling in each time I tried to stand. Her kindness included posting the video to a couple of family WhatsApp groups. Eventually, I drifted down by our friends’ boat so I paddled over and stopped for a chat. I tried to make it look like I’d intended to go to their boat all along. On the way I’d just chosen to have a cooling swim–several cooling swims.

We were to leave for the Tuamotus a few days later so the SUP was deflated and stowed.

While anchored in the lagoon at Tahanea I decided to give the SUP another go. After all, this was a perfect spot for it. The water was warm and crystal clear. I’d be able to float over the coral patches watching fish dart in and out of the coral. The outer reef would keep the water relatively calm. How could I not stand up?

As it turns out, I could stand up. I certainly couldn’t go fast but I could stand up and glide over the coral heads as I’d imagined. Each day I went out and as long as I made sure the board had lots of air in it, I was fine. A few times the wind came up creating some chop. At those times I dropped to my knees in order to get back to the boat but that’s okay. I considered my foray into Stand Up Paddle Boarding a success.

One morning I went out for a morning paddle in perfect conditions. There was no wind. The water was flat calm. The sun was high enough in the sky that it shone down into the water so I could see perfectly. I glided from coral head to coral head watching colourful fish dart in and out from their protected grottos. I made my way toward shore where there was a large patch of coral.

As I approached, the water shallowed. It was probably not much more than a meter deep. I was above a large patch of sand when into my field of vision appeared a black tipped reef shark. For those that know sharks, you will know that black tipped reef sharks are not a problem for humans. They ignore us. I know this but still something deep inside me triggers when I see them. I tense up. I go into fight or flight mode. My rational mind soon kicks in and tells me to relax which I do–mostly.

The shark did a leisurely s-curve in my direction and then curved away and was behind me. I twisted to watch its progress. I wanted/needed to be assured that it had not turned back to approach me from my blindside.

As I twisted, my weight shifted on the board. I lost my balance, couldn’t steady myself and fell in. As I fell, I gripped my paddle hard. The paddled landed across the board. My head came down hard on the paddle’s shaft. I lay across the board with my legs dangling in the water. I was sure that my legs looked tantalizing to the shark. My inner voice went into high gear. “You’ve hit your head. Heads bleed a lot. Shark! Blood in the water! Shark!”

I was back on the board in nano seconds. I made sure that none of my appendages hung off the edge of the board. As I regained my composure, I checked my head. There was no blood. There wasn’t even a bump. I looked around. There was no shark either.

I paddled back to the boat. I stayed on my knees.