In late 2003, we traveled over 400 kilometers to a remote stretch of coastline after hearing reports of a mass stranding that defied explanation. We arrived at the water’s edge just as the last of nine sperm whales took its final breath in what appeared to be a collective, mysterious suicide. The scene was as haunting as it was visceral; all nine whales were pregnant, and as their remains expanded and ultimately exploded under the heat of the sun, they expelled their calves into the surf. This grim, primal event drew at least a dozen Great Whites to the area, ranging from 2.8 to 5 meters in length. We were waiting for a 60-foot commercial shark fishing boat to arrive and assist us, but with the vessel still half a day away, we decided to take a gamble. We launched what we thought was a large, capable commercial offshore dinghy to begin our work, but our perspective changed the moment we encountered a massive 16-foot male that was actually slightly longer than our boat.
