A scalloped hunter,
drifts over coral cauldrons
and seagrass meadows.
Many moons ago, in 2015, I set off on a dive boat to Ras Muhammad Marine National Park, with a professional dive operator called ocean college network. I would highly recommend them for diving if you're visiting Sharm El Sheikh.
After two amazing dives in the national park where we spotted a large shoal of Jacks, a Moray eel and a massive Eagle ray, we motored on home for a final (optional) dive nearer to Sharm El Sheikh at a spot called Ras Nasrani.
This encounter was one of those amazing moments of luck that you get sometimes when diving. There were so many variables that could have prevented me from meeting this majestic adolescent Scallop Hammerhead Shark.
I debated in my head whether to pay the extra money for this optional third dive, but as it had been such a good day, and I was drunk on diving, I went for it.
The dive proceeded much as you would expect for a shallow dive so close to shore - many beautiful small fish species and macro life like box shrimp etc. The group milled around at about 15 meters enjoying the warmth of sun refracting through crystal waters, shimmering aquamarine patterns across swaying coral in the afternoon current.
At around 50 minutes dive time, most of the rest of the group hit critical air levels and the dive guide ushered everyone to ascend to finish the dive. As we reached about 6 meters, three of us signalled the guide that we still had 90-100 bar of air left... more than enough for another 5-10 minutes safe diving.
Everyone in the small group of three had completed over 100 dives, and one of the two ladies was a scuba instructor on holiday, so the guide signalled us to stay down for a bit longer and send up a dSMB (delayed Surface Marker Buoy) when we were coming up.
The rest of the group surfaced among columns of bubbles, the rattle of their breath through regulators fading to nothing. All three of us were shallow breathers, which could be the reason why our finned friend approached, as sharks really don't like the noise divers make when breathing through their mouthpieces.
As we milled around checking out the cacophony of life drifting over the reef, I heard a frantic tapping of a metal regulator on a tank. This is sound is always a signal for excitement as a diver, as it's basically what you do when you spot something amazing.
I hadn't been messing with my camera for a while but as I turned I grabbed it from where it was dangling around my neck and saw this amazing creature materialize out of the hazy blue. I snapped a bunch of pictures in excitement, and I honestly don't know how I got these shots, as the shark swam past us in a matter of seconds.
The encounter happened literally 2-3 minutes before we were all at the minimum safety amount of 60 bar of air. What was truly remarkable about this encounter is that Hammerhead are usually never spotted in Egypt above 35 meters and are mainly seen out in the open ocean. I'm not sure if this young shark was lost 🦈
The hammerhead swam past us at about 2-3 meters distance, taking a close look at us with those strange alien eyes. As it receded into the distance we started our accent with smiles 'a mile wide' as we celebrated by grasping each other's arms and spinning in a circle.
I consider this to be the luckiest spot I've ever had while scuba diving. To put this into perspective, I have met many divers with over 600 dives who go to Egypt every year trying to spot shoals of Hammerhead at Elephinstone dive site, and are still to see them in the wild.
It's safe to say that everyone who had already surfaced and returned to the boat was green with envy.
Photos taken using a Panasonic Lumix DMC-GF3 12.1MP with underwater housing.
This camera has now bitten the dust as water leaked into the housing when I was diving in Mexico in 2017.
Thanks for reading 🌿
To read more about the aesthetics of true haiku, and the difference between haiku and senryu, please check out my post: Haiku Vs Senryu - The Aesthetics of Form
