Encounters with Predatory Sharks at Madi Miyaru Kanmathi

Disclaimer: Moosumi does not endorse or condemn diving at Madi Miyaru Kanmathi. We are publishing this writing to let the writer provide a direct account of what it is like to dive at Madi Miyaru Kanmathi.

What is the first mental image the word shark conjures up? A bloodthirsty killer lurking in the depths of our oceans waiting for the next unsuspecting victim?  Sharks are often portrayed through sensational hyperboles in popular media — as frenzied monsters lurking below, hungry for blood. While this may surprise some, this vilification has resulted in negative real-world consequences for sharks, affecting social vectors like funding appeals for shark conservation. This perspective, however, is changing across the world. 

I have had several encounters with some of the world’s “deadliest” sharks — each encounter was incredibly fascinating. The thrill of it leaves me seeking more.

Madi Miyaru Kanmathi, located outside the entrance to the Hulhumalé harbor in the Maldives’ capital is an unlikely place to find such a diverse variety of life. However, tiger sharks, bull sharks, great hammerhead sharks, spinner sharks, lemon sharks, nurse sharks, white-spotted guitarfish, stingrays, and eagle rays frequent the spot year-around. Every morning, fishing vessels dump multiple barrels of fish guts, bones, and heads into this spot. This conjures up a shark feeding frenzy unlike anywhere else in this region. It is surreal to witness a tornado of stingrays underwater whenever a barrel is dumped overhead. Bluefin trevally, schooling bannerfish, surgeonfish, and triggerfish pick up the remains. Afterwards, the showstoppers appear: the sharks.

It was somewhat different when we first started diving at this spot. We descended by the pole used to mark the entrance to the harbor and stayed close to the reef as we descended down. To keep the dive safe, we went in with small groups to ensure nothing sneaked up from behind us. However, the dives were usually a hit or miss.

The diving procedures changed over the years to increase the possibilities of witnessing the sharks. We timed our dives to when the fishing vessels dumped their barrels. Instead of staying close to the reef, we jumped further out into the blue, closer to the fishing vessel. We had to constantly look around to ensure we knew where the sharks were. Inevitably, some dive centers and liveaboards took on the mantle to feed the sharks themselves. The methods were endless: hiding fish heads under rocks, using cages, and even dumping buckets full of kalhumas right above the divers. 

Madi Miyaru Kanmathi was special. Sometimes, there were so many sharks and rays at once that it was impossible to keep count. We would see two of the most fearsome sharks up close: the tiger shark and bull shark. Despite their reputation, the sharks seemed mostly uninterested in our presence. They would sometimes encircle us a few times from a distance, making for some phenomenal pictures and videos. After they had satisfied their curiosity, they always returned to scouting for chunks. The great hammerhead was always a crowd favorite, since they are becoming increasingly rare to locate elsewhere in the world. The divers at Madi Miyaru Kanmathi shared a certain camaraderie with each other. We would flash hand signs to our friends on other dive boats, letting them know the type of sharks we’d seen on the dive. Two fists near the head for hammerhead sharks, bull horns for bull sharks, and stripes on the arm for tiger sharks. The dives were special because divers and non-divers were learning about these animals threatened with extinction — through the pictures, videos, and stories that the divers brought back home. Madi Miyaru Kanmathi helped dispel the notion that sharks are aggressive. We are a bigger threat to them than they are to us. 

However, Madi Miyaru Kanmathi was far from perfect. 

The spot is a high traffic area for vessels. Visibility on most days was terrible, to the point we couldn’t see the sharks until they were just a few feet away from us. Further away from the reef, the average depth at the bottom is about 45 meters. While it’s illegal in the Maldives to conduct recreational dives below 30 meters, it was common to see divers intentionally or unintentionally exceed their depth limits trying to hover midwater in the blue. We had a far more limited time in which we could stay underwater at these depths due to faster air consumption and shorter No-Decompression Limits compared to shallower depths. Exceeding these limits would require a decompression stop before surfacing to avoid decompression sickness.

Madi Miyaru Kanmathi casts a strange spell on those who dive therein. Some divers would chase predatory sharks twice the length of their body to get a better picture, touch the tail of a bull shark just to say they did, or dive right under a boat throwing enough chum to summon hundreds of frenzied sharks. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the gas narcosis at those depths. For whatever reason, we seemed to want to put ourselves in extremely dangerous situations without any forethought about the consequences.

During one of our dives, the boat captain informed us that the fishermen had not discarded any fish waste in the water in two days. So, we lowered our expectations of seeing any sharks. But fatefully, two large tiger sharks greeted us at the bottom. Everything seemed normal at first, though they were more curious than usual. They kept circling us, until the circle slowly kept shrinking smaller and smaller. Eventually the larger of the two sharks made an approach straight towards us. None of us were trained to respond to a situation like this. The sharks swam inches above us before going on their way. It was sheer luck and nothing else. If the tiger sharks had chosen to go into active hunting mode, no amount of redirecting or shark safety training could have stopped a half-ton animal swimming at up to 20km/h with a bite force of a ton. It was a humbling reminder that we are mere guests in their home. Only that we were never invited.

Madi Miyaru Kanmathi gave us a lot to feel grateful for. A mere five-minute dhoni ride from the city, and we are suddenly immersed in a world unlike any other. We’ve grown to truly love and admire the animals at this spot. Though it deeply saddens me to say that we have also lost some of the respect that predatory sharks deserve. Their importance in the ecosystem is immeasurable. All it takes is one fatal accident for the media to cast them in a negative light. People underestimate the risks of diving with these animals simply because there has never been any fatality from a large predatory shark in the Maldives. The responsibility falls upon us to ensure our encounters are respectful towards the sharks and their space.

Diving with sharks and encounters with other predatory animals also reveal a strange facet of our relationship with the natural world. These animals have become a ‘spectacle.’ Merely witnessing them has become a recreational activity. I wonder about the limits of our relationship with these animals and the dangers of these interactions. Voluntarily swimming with these predatory animals for no reason other than recreation is relatively new in human history. We are still in the early stages of this relationship, and we do not know what it will look like in the years to come. 

The diving community has managed to portray sharks in a completely different light to the world. This plays a crucial role in protecting these species for coming generations. I imagine a future where the behavior of these animals are studied further, and the dives to sites like these are regulated and supervised. I hope that when people hear the word “shark”, they’ll feel a little bit more empathy towards them, and understand their critical role in the balance of our ecosystems.

All photos by @mohemed.shafeeq