HOLBOX ISLAND, Mexico (16 May 2005) -- Most mornings it is easy to swim with the sharks. Around 7 a.m., you walk 25 feet across a white sandy beach from your thatch-roofed hut at Mawindi. Wading knee-deep into the water, you climb over the gunwales and into Miguel Vega's boat, the Buena Onda (Everything Is Great). Then your journey begins. For as long as the village fishermen can remember, the tiburon balleña - the locals call them dominoes - or whale sharks have migrated to the summer fishing grounds of Holbox Island, Mexico. These polka-dotted creatures migrate northerly through the crystal blue waters of the Caribbean as they make their way to the plankton-rich waters near the eastern tip of the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico. They head this way to feed on upwellings of krill and small crustaceans in July and August. Although whale sharks are widely distributed throughout warm temperate and tropical seas, they come in unusually large numbers to Holbox. Usually, divers are fortunate to ever see just one, let alone dozens. Relatively little is known about their migration, natural history or biology. Described as the world's largest fish, they can be as large as 46 feet and weigh up to 15 tons. The creatures' mammoth size made generations of Holbox's lobster and squid fishermen vigilant in avoiding them - fearing the sharks would capsize their launchas, small boats, as they surfaced for air. Their apprehension added to the shark's mystery. But those same locals recently switched gears and are now honing their skills to intercept them. They have discovered that showing the sharks to tourists and snorkelers from all over the world is a lucrative supplement to their income. The residents of Holbox owe this change to a petite Ethiopian named Ornella "Onny" Alemanni - who first encountered a whale shark while scuba diving with her Italian husband, Carmelo, in Kenya's Malindi Marine National Park. They would never forget the excitement of being in the water with this behemoth. Their destinies were entwined. Several years later, they vacationed with Carmelo's friends in Holbox (pronounced ólbosch) and were taken by the rustic tranquility of the dirt-street fishing village and its remote white-sand beaches. A three-hour drive to connect to a six-mile ferry crossing from Cancun, the dusty island village had long been off the radar screen for most travelers, save for some Texans and a few Italians. There is a spartan basketball court, a small white cathedral, and a few vendors around the central plaza. Each evening, someone pulls the church bell rope sending riveting chimes through the quaint village. Palm-thatched huts, some without plumbing, contrast with brightly painted block homes. Restaurants serve pasta and pizza; chips and salsa are almost an afterthought. Baby boomers Onny and Carmelo bought some beach-front property and opened a posada, a small hotel, with 11 thatched-roof huts, and named it Mawimbi. About three years ago, after hearing fisherman talking about the summer return of the tiburon balleña, Onny had an epiphany and started offering snorkeling trips to her guests to see the sharks. Soon, the previously frightened fishermen, some of whom couldn't even swim, were selling whale-shark trips to tourists. Last summer, Vega was Onny's only captain. Most visitors head for the Yucatan Peninsula during winter months seeking a beach break in a balmy climate. But now the whale sharks draw increasingly more travelers during summer months that can feel as hot as Death Valley, with nearly equally high humidity and lots of mosquitoes. Plan to spend three nights on Holbox to give yourself plenty of time with the sharks. Onny's whale shark trip is $120 per person per day and includes a ham and cheese sandwich and the choice of bottled water or soda. | | Whale shark The first stop is the pier just minutes away, where officials of the Yum Balam Reserve check each outgoing boat for its permit: Every boat must have a licensed captain and a certified guide; 32 boats were granted permits, but only 12 are active. Vega revs up his single 150-hp engine to speed 40 minutes south along the beach, then turns east for 20 minutes into the Gulf of Mexico. Using his handheld GPS, he homes in on the spot where whale sharks tend to congregate, joining up with 10 other small boats carrying off-the-beaten-path tourists who have paid $80 in the plaza for a morning tiburon balleña tour. The guide, Juan, reminds divers of the rules, which were written the previous year because people were grabbing the whale sharks and speeding boats were frightening them: No touching; only two snorkelers in the water at once; and only one boat can approach a sighted whale shark. In August, you can slide into the 79-degree water and peer into an approaching 10-foot-wide mouth. This is no scene from "Jaws" or "Open Water." While they may have thousands of very tiny teeth, these sharks are filter feeders that sieve tiny food through their large gills and may use their teeth to crunch a crab. You can get so close that you look directly into an unmoving eye before the shark veers off. As gentle as the creatures appear, and it looks like they are barely moving, their strong bodies sweep through the water faster than an Olympian. The body sways side to side while the tail weaves in choreographed unison. The current from the sweeping tail can push a swimmer forcefully through the water. Unlike whales, these sharks make no sound. And they reveal little. It is thought that they can live to be more than 100, but it is hard to tell age by size. Above, the surface boils as bait fish jump. As many as 60 whale sharks move slowly, mouths agape, in these plankton-rich waters. Some feed in circles, giving snorkelers a second or third encounter. The excited whoops and hollers across the water from passengers on other boats add to the frenzy. Divers return to shore when the afternoon wind picks up; the plankton descends deeper and the dominoes follow. Other mornings, the sharks are more elusive. One day, for example, it takes a search that pushes the boat's fuel supply to its limit to find them south toward the uninhabited island of Contoy, a bird sanctuary with flamingoes, roseate spoonbills, cormorants, pelicans, ibis and herons. A seamount rises to a depth of 5 feet a few miles north of Contoy, the underwater mountains causing a circular current that sweeps plankton and fish into the sharks' mouths. Once the whale sharks come into view, they are everywhere. Nowhere in the world can you find a shark or whale encounter to match the one in Holbox. SOURCE - Arizona Daily Star |
