The Seals of Shark Week
Shark week on TV always captured my attention and I remembered the story of Seal Island near Simon's Town, South Africa.
When looking for things to do on my Cape Town vacation, taking the train south was a great idea.
Too chicken to cage dive with the sharks, I decided that getting a close up of their feeding grounds would be an exciting way to feel immersed and stay alive.
My companion (another lone traveler I met at the hostel) and I found a tour outfit through word of mouth while roaming around Simon's Town.
We secured a 7:00am appointment by phone for the following day to circumnavigate the popular feeding frenzy location.
We showed up on time, but the pier was deserted.
Besides the irritation of waking so early for no real reason, I was happy.
There was enough coffee shops near-by to help jump- start my mood.
Later, I realized that drinking several cups of coffee just before a boat trip on a small minimally equipped vessel was not the best idea.
When the captain of the boat appeared on board at 11:00am, we hurried over and expressed out confusion about our appointment time.
Casually, he explained that others would join us and 7:00 was too early for them.
He did not seem bothered about the inconvenience to us nor did he apologize for not calling our hostel (of which we had provided him the phone number, in case this very situation arose.
) We left the dock with about eight people on board.
My eyes were busy looking in all directions at once, making mental notes of the blueness of the water, the height of the shoreline from the new perspective at sea, and the cozy looking homes built onto the cliffs throughout Simon's Town.
As we approached Seal Island, the scene was unbelievable.
I was unprepared for the amount of seals.
They covered the entire island, and bobbed around thickly from the shore all the way to where our boat passed by.
I wanted to see a shark for the novelty but felt pity that one of these easy-going creatures within my arm's reach could be lunch in a little while.
I cried for many reasons.
The joy of being there, in those waters which I had dreamed about for so long from television specials and knowing that my hero James Cook probably sailed in this very spot centuries ago.
A cow wailed and flailed her baby around in the air.
From the blood surrounding her and her sickening cries and demeanor, I concluded that her offspring was dead.
She reacted violently and her pain touched me.
No shark appeared to make a meal out of the excited seals while we toured the area but the reality of nature's cycle of life touched me in an unexpected way that morning.
My spirit soared along with the white birds that flew overhead.
I cursed the coffee I had that morning while whales lumbered by our boat as we cruised back toward shore.
I spent a few more days in the Simon's Town area, happily making more epic memories before climbing on the northbound train back to Cape Town.
-30-
When looking for things to do on my Cape Town vacation, taking the train south was a great idea.
Too chicken to cage dive with the sharks, I decided that getting a close up of their feeding grounds would be an exciting way to feel immersed and stay alive.
My companion (another lone traveler I met at the hostel) and I found a tour outfit through word of mouth while roaming around Simon's Town.
We secured a 7:00am appointment by phone for the following day to circumnavigate the popular feeding frenzy location.
We showed up on time, but the pier was deserted.
Besides the irritation of waking so early for no real reason, I was happy.
There was enough coffee shops near-by to help jump- start my mood.
Later, I realized that drinking several cups of coffee just before a boat trip on a small minimally equipped vessel was not the best idea.
When the captain of the boat appeared on board at 11:00am, we hurried over and expressed out confusion about our appointment time.
Casually, he explained that others would join us and 7:00 was too early for them.
He did not seem bothered about the inconvenience to us nor did he apologize for not calling our hostel (of which we had provided him the phone number, in case this very situation arose.
) We left the dock with about eight people on board.
My eyes were busy looking in all directions at once, making mental notes of the blueness of the water, the height of the shoreline from the new perspective at sea, and the cozy looking homes built onto the cliffs throughout Simon's Town.
As we approached Seal Island, the scene was unbelievable.
I was unprepared for the amount of seals.
They covered the entire island, and bobbed around thickly from the shore all the way to where our boat passed by.
I wanted to see a shark for the novelty but felt pity that one of these easy-going creatures within my arm's reach could be lunch in a little while.
I cried for many reasons.
The joy of being there, in those waters which I had dreamed about for so long from television specials and knowing that my hero James Cook probably sailed in this very spot centuries ago.
A cow wailed and flailed her baby around in the air.
From the blood surrounding her and her sickening cries and demeanor, I concluded that her offspring was dead.
She reacted violently and her pain touched me.
No shark appeared to make a meal out of the excited seals while we toured the area but the reality of nature's cycle of life touched me in an unexpected way that morning.
My spirit soared along with the white birds that flew overhead.
I cursed the coffee I had that morning while whales lumbered by our boat as we cruised back toward shore.
I spent a few more days in the Simon's Town area, happily making more epic memories before climbing on the northbound train back to Cape Town.
-30-
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