Fully kitted out in a wetsuit, water shoes, snorkel and mas for the Kelly Tarlton's shark snorkel experience. Photo / Supplied
Swimming with sharks is a bucket-list experience you can tick off at Sea Life Kelly Tarlton’s. Anna Sarjeant dips a toe in - with the hope that she’ll lift it back out still attached.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.
Goddammit.
I thought about it.
A shark.
Come summer, as soon as I step into any body of water, I immediately think about that psychotic monster in the film, Jaws, and once the seed’s planted, I have to retreat to the sand.
Countless summers ruined. Spielberg has a lot to answer for.
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I’m one of those people with an overactive imagination (clearly), so you may wonder why I’ve chosen to put myself within metres of seven sharks, in an enclosed arena, with nothing but a piece of mesh between my succulent legs and razor-sharp teeth.
The same woman that frets about shark attacks in the bathtub.
I know, blame Spielberg.
Regardless of impending death, the Kelly Tarlton’s Swim with Sharks experience enticed me for two reasons. One, I wouldn’t need any dive experience to partake in the cage plunge; I’d be provided with a wetsuit and snorkel. It’s the “no skills required” option for swimming with sharks, while also avoiding the bends.
Secondly, I could take my 2-year-old son to Seal Life Kelly Tarlton’s for the first time, and we all know it’s an aquatic wonderland for children.
The third reason was to prove I am hard as nails.
The shark experience takes place every Saturday and Sunday morning, with two slots at 10am and 11.30am. I was booked in for the earlier session and much to my delight, discovered I’d be the only snorkeller (out of a maximum of six people) in the cage. I’d lucked out.
Only when I pulled on my wetsuit – alone in the changing room – did I ponder if a few extra people would be good for camaraderie, and to help zip up my skintight suit.
I’m not alone though, I’m led by two members of Kelly Tarlton’s team: Shannon and Jane. After a quick introduction, we disappear backstage into the aquarium’s hidden labyrinth.
The behind-the-scenes aesthetic is quite different from anything visitors see upfront; akin to a villainous lair in a vintage Bond film (Kelly Tarlton’s first opened in 1985), it’s all concrete blocks and low ceilings. At one point, I’m told we’re standing directly below Tamaki Drive, the distant rumble of bus tyres somewhere overhead.
Something about this secret underground bunker makes my senses tingle and my heart thud louder. And I haven’t even had my dalliance with the ocean’s most feared predators yet.
Once I’m fully kitted out in a wetsuit, water shoes, snorkel and mask, we hop into a small pool adjacent to the shark-filled tank. I pirouette sideways over the wall into the pool. It’s extremely cold and it takes the breath out of me.
I start to worry Shannon will think I’m getting nervous when I’m not. I’m really not.
She points out the emergency rope that she will pull if there’s a problem and says I’ll warm up once I’m in the water with the sharks.
Like a hot dinner, I thought - but didn’t voice aloud.
The ceiling is very low, so from here, I roll ungainly into the cage. There’s nothing like emulating a beached whale to fit in with your surroundings.
The cage is 2.5m x 2.5m and 1m deep, and while the walls are mesh, the clear Perspex bottom allows me to put my feet down. The wetsuit is buoyant so I adopt a hop-swim-hop motion mixed with a bit of treading water.
Shannon unties the cage and pushes us off across the water – something I wasn’t expecting. I thought we would stay stationary. This elevates the experience, allowing us to glide across the tank, gaining various vantage points to see the marine life, which includes hāpuku and three short-tailed stingrays, the latter of which are over 2m in diameter and weigh over 270kg. Huge but slinky, they pass beneath my feet like a couple of silent magic carpets.
I’m lucky the first shark to swim by is a “small” school shark, but Shannon quickly starts to tell me what else is closing in - in rapid succession.
“There’s a female sand tiger behind you.”
I turn to see a beady-eyed behemoth surveying me. Nonchalant. At 3.2m long, I’m glad she decides I’m not a mid-morning snack.
I thought I’d be intimidated by the shark’s teeth and colossal size, but it’s her muscular bulk that I find overwhelming. More than 320kg of brawn. I feel like a gangly piece of plankton in comparison. No wonder she can’t be bothered eating me.
I continue to swim for 15 minutes, catching my next glimpse of a shark or stingray. The tank sits directly above the aquarium’s travelator, so I wave at a few visitors and their kids, including my own, who’s entwined in his dad’s arms, pointing at fish and sharks and a strange, rubbery-looking sea urchin that resembles his mother.
Only once, and only for a fleeting second, do I think: what if, what if, what if.
My fingers feel oddly vulnerable, and I keep them unnaturally close to my body, panicking slightly if they brush past the cage’s mesh walls; surely my pinkies are like a prelude to the bigger menu? In reality, these beautiful creatures have zero interest in me. We humans tend to flatter ourselves.
Ten minutes later and I’ve had a quick hot shower and I’m fully dressed and warm again.
Included in the shark snorkel price is a complimentary hot drink and all-day entry to the aquarium, so I rejoin my family for a penguin talk, fish feeding and several races around the children’s play area.
I leave feeling bold and heroic - complete with ten fingers and ten toes.
For more information, see visitsealife.com/auckland/tickets-passes/experiences/shark-cage-snorkel
When there's nothing as far as the eye can see, you may appreciate the company.