Getting Chummy (follow-up)

First thing I've learned: Keeping track of two blogs ain't fun. So I'm going to consolidate to just this one. I'll still update MySpace with a line or two, then link off to this one, which will act as my main blog.

As a followup to my entry about chumming for sharks the other day, I wanted to post the comment from the Divester writer who sparked the original item I found on Divester. You can read his original post on my MySpace blog (Nov. 25), or right here:

Hi, Jenna. My name is Willy Volk, and I wrote the piece on Divester to which you refer. First, let me say that I enjoyed your trip report, and I'm glad you had the opportunity to share the beauty of sharks with the rest of us. However...

Chumming for sharks is irresponsible, and Jimmy -- as knowledgable as he is about sharks and their behavior -- knows this.

Although some degree of conditioning can occur between sharks and cage diving boats, this happens when operators do not comply with regulations and allow sharks to feed on bait (http://www.divester.com/2006/09/27/finding-a-balance-how-sharks-and-beachgoers-can-live-together/). I don't believe that sharks learn to associate chum with humans (and, as a result, acquire a taste for people). However, it is commonly accepted that chumming the water alters sharks' behavior and attracts them to shore -- where they face increased dangers, through fishing, and may inadvertantly attack a person (http://www.divester.com/2006/10/05/oahu-to-limit-shark-tours/). Consequently, the fact that "Jimmy was more than three miles offshore" really has no bearing on the situation. He's altering their behavior. And anyway: how long does it take for a shark to swim 3 miles?

Moreover, it amazes me that people would recoil in horror at the thought of dragging a kudu through the African bush to attract a lion, but they don't have a problem with chumming the water to attract sharks. What's the difference?

"Jimmy had mentioned how several of his competitors do it as well": Unfortunately, the fact that Jimmy and his competitors all chum for fish does not make it right.

"I don't believe he felt what he was doing was illegal": I'll bet most commercial fishermen -- and many drug dealers, for that matter -- don't feel what they're doing is illegal.

I don't have a problem with Hall taking people out to see sharks: exposure to these wonderful animals is the best way for peope to overcome their fears and understand their importance in the ecosystem. For that, I commend Hall. However, when Hall expressly denies chumming the water (http://www.hawaiisharkencounters.com/faq.asp), even though you clearly witnessed it, it makes me wonder: Why deny it, Jimmy, if it's so harmless?

Comments?

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Just yesterday I was explaining to my technically challenged mother the importance of Googling your name every few weeks. In the past, I've discovered there's a runaway and a porn star (possibly the same person) who share my first and last name, which is one reason I'd decided to add my middle name to my byline, for the sake of clarification.

So I was shocked when, Googling my full byline name just a few minutes ago, I came across a listing entitled:

Stories Tagged 'illegal' » Netscape.com

(full story)

...which goes on to detail how my recent article in the Seattle P-I inadvertently exposed Jimmy Hall and his Hawaii Shark Encounters outfit for illegally feeding sharks. When I wrote the article a little over a month ago about the trip I took in January 2006, I had no clue that this was an illegal activity, especially since Jimmy had mentioned how several of his competitors do it as well.

Follow-ups to the story counter the allegations, stating that since Jimmy was more than three miles offshore (as I can attest to), he was no longer in Hawaiian waters and therefore was not committing illegal activity. But as one commentor notes, this is also up for debate, as Hawaii claims jurisdiction to the channels between islands, even though the state has never defended this position in federal court.

I'm not a lawyer, so I can't say if Jimmy is guilty. I will say that he showed a great deal of respect for the sharks and that I found no fault with his operation. I felt perfectly safe the entire time and admired Jimmy's obvious love of the sea and its inhabitants. And after seeing the video of him outside of the cage with an 18-foot great white, I can say he truly love these creatures, even if he's a bit of a daredevil. Jimmy told me that one of the reasons he took such a risk was because he wanted people to see that white sharks are not the vicious feeding machines Hollywood has made them out to be. On his webpage, he further describes why he swam unprotected with a great white.

About halfway into my trip, Jimmy learned that I was a writer. At that point, had he wanted to hide any illegal actions, he certainly could have, or at least downplayed them. But I don't believe he felt what he was doing was illegal, or else he certainly would not have allowed me to take pictures of one of his crew tossing fish heads to the sharks just off the stern.

I had hoped my article would offset fears that many have about the ocean and its inhabitants, especially in the wake of Stever Irwin's untimely death. I did not intend to "out" Jimmy. In fact, I had hoped my article would help his business, as well as awaken people to the beauty of the animals his expedition showcases.

New Hue

This weekend I learned two very valuable lessons: 1. Paint samples are worth much more than the few dollars they cost. 2. It is always a good idea to bring the gay husband (the Will to my Grace) when choosing paint colors. If only I'd learned this wisdom before I spent several hours applying an alien-green paint to my bathroom. I thought I was just tired last night and that the greenish tinge my complexion had taken on was a figment of my imagination, having looked at far too many paint chips that day. But no, it was my bile-green bathroom reflecting onto my skin like nuclear afterglow. So now, after visiting my third Home Depot in as many days, I have a very satisfying shade of "celery bunch" covering the offensive "honeydew." Only one more coat to go! I'll be in bed by 2:30. No problem.

Now, if anyone knows how to get these stripped screws (yet another fabulous legacy of the idiot who previously lived here) out of my bathroom cabinets, I'll buy you a six pack. Not only did he strip the screws, he painted over them -- several times -- so that I had to use three applications of stripper (the paint variety) just to get down to the metal, only to find they'd already been stripped (the far worse metal variety). (Yes, there's been a lot of stripping in my life this weekend. Unfortunately, it was of the noxious fumes kind.) Anyone want a six pack of the beer of your choice?

First pic: the retina-burning "honeydew." Second pic: the much more pleasant "celery bunch." (Work still in progress. Please ignore mess and painter's tape.)

Back From Shark Diving

Yes, many of you thought I'd return with missing limbs -- or at least a few digits. But here I am, as intact as ever -- physically, if not mentally.

I've got some kickass video of my shark dives, but unfortunately my camera made all the files .avi, so if anyone knows how to convert to .mpeg, please share the secret. To see the crappy-ass .avi files, check here:
http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=B4B577EB2D1004A4

Aside from many wonderful sharky bits of trivia, I learned that Guadalupe is not a place for young, innocent men of a certain sexual inclination. ("The village has its own laws," says Mauricio, the PhD student who lives in the lock-less shack on the island's eastern side.) Also, my introductory scuba instructor was absolutely correct: You can indeed vomit into your regulator. The 20-hour crossing, complete with 14-foot swells, rocked our boat to the point where lunch was, most definitely, on me -- and those in the shark cage next to me. During our first day in the washing-machine lurches of the cage, I chummed enough for the whole boat. Luckily, by days 2 and 3, I'd regained my sea legs and my stomach-emptying feats came to an end.

People, you ain't lived until you've had a 16-foot white shark pass within inches of your camera lens.