Sharing the water with sharks
SHOW NOTES
Experiencing a shark or ray in the wild can be magical, change the way we think about these animals and even support their conservation. But as shark tourism grows and our social media feeds are filled with increasingly close wildlife encounters, there’s an important question to ask: how can we share the water with sharks without negatively impacting them? In this episode, we discuss responsible shark interactions with wildlife photographer and filmmaker Luke Saddler. With a background in marine biology, biological imaging and marine tourism – plus 25 years of diving experience – Luke knows a thing or two about getting close enough to capture incredible behaviours without disturbing the animal.
Before getting into the dos and don’ts of shark encounters, we begin with one of Luke’s own most memorable experiences underwater [07.41]. Of the many places he has travelled, one that stands out is Malpelo Island; a remote volcanic outcrop around 500 kilometres off the coast of Colombia and an extraordinary place for sharks. Luke was diving at a known hammerhead cleaning station called La Nevera, where hammerheads visit to have parasites removed from their skin and gills. Despite their size, hammerhead sharks can be surprisingly skittish and are easily spooked by a scuba diver’s bubbles. Luke and his colleagues therefore had to employ a slightly unusual tactic; staying low, and holding their breath anytime a hammerhead was close. Eventually, they were rewarded with a spectacular sight: a huge school passed directly overhead. “The whole sky, watery sky above your head is just full of hammerheads,” remembers Luke. And the day wasn’t finished there…as Luke and the team were nearing the end of the dive, an enormous whale shark suddenly appeared in the middle of what he describes as a “big galaxy of hammerheads”.
Later that same day, on the other side of the island, Luke stayed underwater after most of the camera crew had already surfaced [09.35]. Out of the darkness appeared a shark he had never seen before: a smalltooth sand tiger, a deep-water species that only occasionally ventures into shallower water. For a moment, its chunky body and countershading even made Luke wonder whether he was looking at a white shark. For him, the combination of encounters summed up what makes Malpelo so special: “To see such an amazing abundance and diversity of sharks in one place is – Malpelo has it all.”
Luke’s love of the ocean began much earlier than these incredible experiences off the Colombian coast [13.26]. Born in Scotland, he spent some of his formative childhood years in southeastern Australia, close to the Great Ocean Road. His father was a biology teacher, so weekends spent rock pooling, bodyboarding and exploring the coast came with their own “personal David Attenborough”, who could explain the species and behaviours they encountered. Cameras were around too – Luke’s parents were avid documentarians of his and his sibling’s childhood – and Luke also developed a love of the arts, painting, drawing and taking pictures. As an adult, he found a way to bring his scientific and creative interests together. After studying marine biology and struggling to find a paid role, he found a master’s degree in Biological Photography and Imaging at Nottingham University. “When I started with that, I was like, now I’ve really found my thing,” he says.
Today, Luke sees those two sides of his work as inseparable [16.23]. Wildlife filmmaking isn’t simply about knowing how to operate a camera. Before you can film an animal, you have to understand enough about its ecology and behaviour to know where it might be, when it might appear and what it might be doing. Basking sharks are a perfect example. A stretch of apparently empty water can suddenly become a feeding ground when the tide changes and plankton begins accumulating in particular areas. Understanding those processes can put a filmmaker in the right place at the right time. So, rather than be overly focused on the cameras, lenses and other expensive kit, Luke believes the best place to start is understanding the animal itself, and time spent in the water. “To understand these kind of things, the aspects of the scientific behavior as well as the other factors that affect these animals’ lives…that helps you as a wildlife filmmaker to get great or at least get yourself in the vicinity where you might be able to get a get a shot,” he explains.
Sharks themselves have been part of Luke’s life since those childhood years in Australia [18.01]. Like many people, his earliest perception of them included some fear. Floating on a bodyboard knowing that white sharks and other large species could be somewhere beneath him left plenty of room for the imagination. That changed when he began snorkelling and diving. Seeing sharks underwater allowed him to watch how they actually behaved rather than imagining what might be happening below the surface. During his advanced diving course on the Yongala wreck in Queensland, Luke encountered his first large shark – a bull shark – and remembers being struck by how relaxed it was. “It was just cruising around and it just did its thing.” Over time, repeated encounters have made him more comfortable around different species, although he stresses that unfamiliar sharks can still take some getting used to. His first encounter with a mako, for example, felt rather more intense: “When you’ve got a very toothy looking thing coming in hot and you’re like, all right, what’s happening here?”
This is where gaining experience in the water becomes invaluable [20.17]. Luke spent years working as a guide for Basking Shark Scotland, where he was able to observe the same species in different conditions and gradually learn how the sharks responded to people. Weather, visibility and animal behaviour are all unpredictable, and the moment you want to capture might last only seconds. The more time you spend with an animal in its environment, the more opportunities you have to understand whether it is feeding, resting, travelling or foraging – and therefore where you need to be to capture that behaviour without getting in its way.
That brings us to our first listener question [23.43]. Jacob loves sharks and wants to see them in the wild, but rather than being worried about his own safety, he’s concerned about the impact he might have on the sharks. Luke says that simply asking that question is a very good place to start. Wildlife tourism can sometimes become centred on what we want – the encounter, the photograph, the story – without considering what the animal experiences in return. There are also many different ways to encounter sharks, from snorkelling with basking sharks to cage diving or joining baited shark dives, and each comes with different considerations. One of the most important things you can do, says Luke, is research the operator carefully. Some businesses put animal welfare at the centre of what they do; others may prioritise the experience they can sell to tourists.
Baited shark tourism is particularly complicated [25.43]. During cage-diving operations, for example, operators will use the smell of fish to bring large, far-ranging sharks to the cage. The science is mixed when it comes to deciding whether this has a negative impact on the shark. Although it is widely accepted that feeding the sharks from the boat is bad practice – as it may cause an association between people and a food reward – there can still be an energetic cost to an animal repeatedly investigating bait. That being said, well-managed shark tourism can create important benefits to sharks: changing people’s perceptions, contributing to research and giving sharks economic value alive rather than dead.
For anyone choosing a shark-tourism operator, Luke suggests looking for a few things [28.43]. Small group sizes are important, particularly when we compare them with situations where huge numbers of tourists surround a single animal. Operators should also have clear rules around touching wildlife. “You can have a really incredible encounter with not having to actually touch this animal,” says Luke. Sharks are sensitive to physical contact, and he is concerned by the growing amount of footage online showing people handling or redirecting them. Another good sign is an operator that contributes to scientific work, whether through photo identification, data collection or partnerships with existing research programmes. Of course, there is potential that anyone can say anything on their own website – so comparing that with the lived experiences of other tourists, whether through independent reviews or tagged social media posts – can give you a much better idea of what an encounter actually looks like in the water.
But responsibility doesn’t end with choosing the right operator. Once you’re in the water, your own behaviour matters too [31.17]. Splashing, flailing and making sudden movements are more likely to disturb an animal. Good buoyancy, slow movements and remaining calm can make you less intrusive – and usually produce a better encounter as a result. Just as importantly, know when to leave. If sharks are resting in a cave, for example, there comes a point when even a seemingly relaxed encounter has gone on long enough. Luke recommends paying attention to changes in behaviour: if a shark begins moving erratically, drops its pectoral fins or otherwise appears disturbed, back away. “The key is to try to not get it to that point where you’re actually forcing the animal out of the area,” he says.
The idea is to become a ‘fly-on-the-wall’, allowing the animal to go about business as usual without noticing that you’re there. And this is where gaining knowledge about a species and its behaviour comes into play. At a hammerhead cleaning station, for example, positioning yourself directly in the shark’s path could prevent it from accessing the area it has come there to use. The same principle applies more broadly: if you want to witness natural behaviour, don’t put yourself somewhere that stops the animal from carrying it out. “There’s no point in putting yourself in a position where you’re actually gonna be blocking that animal,” Luke explains. Understanding what a shark is doing – and why it is there – should come before getting the photograph.
Of course, getting up close and personal is no longer the only way to observe sharks [35.52]. Luke began using drones to film basking sharks in Scotland relatively early in the technology’s development, and they have completely changed how both filmmakers and scientists can capture shark behaviour. “You can get fully cinematic, incredible aerials with [a drone], and it’s got multiple lenses…you put a polarizing filter on that, and you can just strip the reflective surface off the water, and you can actually see down through the water,” Luke says. “You can get some amazing, really non-invasive images, or see things that may have not been seen before.”
When it comes to creating wildlife films, however, technology is still only one part of a much bigger process [40.53]. Some shoots are exploratory: a team might travel to a relatively undocumented location and look for the stories they find there. Others are built around an extremely specific behaviour. Luke uses the example of grouper spawning in Fakarava, French Polynesia, where spawning occurs within a very narrow window linked to the lunar cycle. Before thinking about which camera to use, filmmakers need to know whether they are in the right place, at the right time of year, with the right tides and environmental conditions. Then come the logistics: can you reach the site? Do you have the right boat? How many camera operators are needed? How much diving can safely be done? And on top of that comes what story you want to tell: “that kind of leads you down to okay, I want to tell these stories – these are the shots I want to get.” Only after all of that do lenses, housings, dome ports and other equipment enter the picture. “So yeah…it can be it can be quite a lot of stuff to take into account,” Luke laughs.
Editing also has a large role to play in how the story is told and interpreted [45.30]. Take footage of a shark just peacefully cruising about, but put ominous music over it, and the audience reacts differently. There are outlets who choose to go for the fear factor, or more ‘Holywood’ approach – but Luke choses to avoid it. “I want to show these animals as natural as possible in their natural environments, doing natural behaviors,” he says. But today there is another extreme too: social media can encourage people to become overly comfortable with sharks, touching or redirecting animals in pursuit of increasingly dramatic footage. For Luke, responsible shark storytelling sits somewhere between those two extremes – respecting sharks as wild animals without turning them into monsters.
Our second listener question comes from someone hoping to get into underwater photography and filmmaking but unsure where to begin [47.54]. Luke’s first piece of advice is quite simple: go outdoors. Explore a rock pool, learn the species living on your local shore, pay attention to tides, weather and waves, and become curious about how everything fits together. “That being curious is really, I think, a huge part of the cornerstone of storytelling,” he says. Knowledge of the natural world will help you recognise the stories happening around you, while practical ocean knowledge will make you safer and more capable when you eventually take a camera into the water.
And when you do pick up a camera, don’t be intimidated by the enormous rigs used on professional wildlife productions [49.56]. Modern phones and action cameras are already capable of producing remarkable footage. Luke remembers filming alongside Craig Foster, from My Octopus Teacher, while carrying a large professional camera system. Luke was struggling to get the shot he wanted, while Craig used an iPhone to film brittle stars from an angle the larger camera simply couldn’t reach. A phone in an underwater housing or a small action camera can be more than enough to begin telling stories – what matters here is a creative eye, imagination, and willingness to try things out. “Just kind of like getting the creative juices flowing and trying different things,” Luke advises. “Some things won’t ever work – it’s like same thing with writing. If you if you were fastidious over every word, you’re never gonna write anything. You need to get stuff out. So by filming and practicing and repeating you’ll see, this works, this doesn’t work… you need to don’t be too scared to start. I think that’s the the key. “Dive in head first and just get stuck in.”
So, for someone sharing the water with sharks for the first time, what does Luke wish they could understand in that moment [54.35]? For him, the most special encounters aren’t necessarily the closest, most dramatic or most Instagram-worthy ones. They’re the moments when an animal is simply allowed to be an animal. A shark gliding over a reef. A basking shark cruising along with its mouth open, filtering plankton. A behaviour that has been taking place for millions of years, witnessed for a few fleeting seconds by somebody lucky enough to be there. “You’re just there, a little fly on the wall,” says Luke. “It’s just the amazing beauty of it and the wonder and the peace of being in a place like that.”
ABOUT OUR GUEST
LUKE SADDLER
Luke hails from the cold North-Atlantic waters of Scotland. He has shot and produced multiple films for the BBC, with his work also being featured in film festivals around the world as both a cinematographer and director of photography.
Luke has filmed in each of the seven great oceans of the world and has over 25 years of diving experience. With degrees in Marine Biology and a Masters in Biological Photography and Imaging, his skill set melds the scientific and creative disciplines – both key to wildlife filmmaking.
Instagram: @lukesaddler
www.lukesaddler.com
