The Lovely One and I went to Jaws Beach last weekend. In the pic above, you will see my fins, and in the lower left, you will see my spear standing up in the sand. We found our own little secluded beach. The water was crystal emerald, and we leisurely swam 100 yards to the reef.
The bottom was about 14 feet dropping to thirty feet of water with a white sand bottom. As we swam towards the reef, we would see rising columns of coral. The fish life around them was phenomenal. The fish were painted all of the madcap colours of the spectrum. As we snorkelled over a particularly deep hole, we saw the wreck of a small aircraft under water. It was eerie. The tail piece was missing. It was a twin engine plane and the propellers were bent. The pilot had died, and they ripped off the roof of the plane to retrieve the body. The whole plane was covered with algae, and the fish swam in and out of the fuselage.
Proceeding a bit further on, we were mobbed by schools and waves and waves of fish. It freaked the Lovely One out. She was holding on to me, trying to climb on my back, and screaming in her snorkel. As it turned out, a local dive company used this spot to bring divers. They feed the fish so that the divers will have something to see. The fish see us and immediately think FOOD! There were some awfully big fish, and I was wishing that I hadn't left my spear on the shore.
What I didn't tell the Lovely One at the time was that the steel barred box at the bottom was a shark cage. This same company feeds the sharks, and if a shark gets too rowdy, the diver seeks refuge in the shark cage on the bottom. There is a reason why the beach is called Jaws Beach.
I made the mistake of telling the Lovely One about the shark cage after we were safely back on shore. Now she doesn't want to go back.