As the sun filtered through the window and dust motes gleamed like tiny suns. I waited. I waited for the invitation to an experience of a life time. The room was small with only a desk and two chairs. The desk was piled high with sheaves of paper and had an old computer in the middle of the forest of paper. I decided to try it out to see if it still had some life left in it. As I reached for the 'on' button, a deep voice from behind me said, "Don't touch the computer!"
I realised that voice straight away. My Uncle John may have been a cranky old so-and-so, but he was Western Australia's answer to Jacques Cousteau when it came to whale sharks. What people didn't realise was that deep down he was a softie when it came to his favourite nephew! I was lucky enough to hold that title which meant that I had been invited to join him for a tagging expedition of these ocean giants.
An hour later after negotiating a small swell we prepared our equipment and Uncle John made sure the tanks were full. I suited up and gave him the thumbs up. As I rolled overboard I was suddenly engulfed by the freezing water and an overwhelming sense of freedom. Out of the distance a huge monolith was slowly gliding towards th
e hull. 
I was struck by how fragile and small we all were compared to these ocean giants. Time seemed to stall as I  gazed into the gaping cavern that was its mouth. It was then that I could imagine how Jonah would have felt! Later, when I was back on the deck of the 'SharkQuest', and Uncle John was stowing the equipment below deck, the image that I knew would stay with me from this entire experience was staring into the gaping jaws of a gentle monster.

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