Peggy and I went paddling on our one-man canoes this morning, Jan. 30. The swell was large, the ocean bumpy and all over the place. We paddled the three miles from Keauhou to Banyan’s, a couple miles offshore because of
Peggy and I went paddling on our one-man canoes this morning, Jan. 30. The swell was large, the ocean bumpy and all over the place. We paddled the three miles from Keauhou to Banyan’s, a couple miles offshore because of the big waves.
We stopped just past Lyman’s point, talked and drank water. I was sitting in my usual resting position, with my legs over the sides of the canoe, enjoying the water. After a few minutes, I pulled them back inside so I could keep the bow of my boat pointed into the swells.
I made a comment about not seeing any wildlife, namely dolphins and whales. I didn’t mention sharks, because a couple of days ago I had a premonition I would see one soon and I didn’t want to.
All of a sudden, Peggy said, “What is that?”
She was next to me, and I glanced over. There was a huge body coming up from the deep and the minute I saw it, I knew it was a tiger shark. It was under her boat then turned toward mine, still coming up. I was in shock, stunned, I didn’t move. It came alongside me, not a foot away, only a couple of feet below the surface. I saw its wide, white chest against the gray of its back and looked directly into its beady, black eye. Time froze, he was swimming so slowly, clearly checking me out. He was massive, 12 to 14 feet long, his chest easily 3 feet wide. He swam right next to my canoe. I though he would hit me. It seemed to take forever for him to pass.
I had looked directly into his eye and it had chilled me to the bone.
Then he was past me, and I could see no sign of him anywhere. I was terrified, adrenalized, wondering where he had gone and if he was going to attack.
We were stupefied and Peggy muttered, “What should we do?”
“We go inside,” I said.
We pulled toward shore, I wanted to get on land, but the surf was too big. We had to paddle all the way back to Keauhou, terrified. We never saw him again and I just focused on getting back safely.
Once ashore, I let down, now more scared and disbelieving than ever. I had looked death in the eye and could only be grateful I was alive. The picture of that huge predator and his cold, black eye is seared into my soul forever.
Tami Warren is a
resident of Kealakekua
