Such is the 100% thrill factor of being in the sea with basking sharks, I just had to go back for another look, dragging along my eldest son Henry (Hezzer) even though he would have preferred to be watching the footy even though he should have been doing revision.

We paddled my trusty and ancient Malibu 2 and the pressure was on to find a shark . Just past the now legendary Pedn-men-an-mere point there were thousands of grey mullet packed so tightly together you couldn’t see the water between them and forming great grey/brown patches on the sea.

Mucho mullet usually means basking shark and there in front of us was the dorsal and tailfin of a whopper, so far apart Hezzer presumed it had to be two sharks. A good 20 ft long.

OK , I know I panned the snorkeller watching the shark the other day but I just had to give it a go and leapt into the water (nearly tipping Hezzer in) armed with snorkel, mask and camera.

I know you are not supposed to approach basking sharks but you really don’t have to because they tend to zigzag over the same patch and have a bit of a nosy tendency to come and have a look at kayaks and oafs bobbing around in the water. So you just have to sit and wait. The water was thick with plankton so visibility wasn’t great but the shark obliged with an ultra close swim past ,but nearly clubbed me with its tail:

phew that was close

Hezzer controlled the mothership and narrowly avoided being tipped out again when I wallowed back onto the kayak like a harpooned seal.


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