I’ve been asked time and again, “What was it like…when it had its teeth around
you?”
I’ve relived that moment far too many times, but I still couldn’t tell you with clarity
what I was thinking.
There was adrenalin, and fear, but what still burns in my memory was its eye, with my own
eyes being just inches away.
That pure, perfect, impassive aggression as it had both my arms between its jagged teeth;
shearing my flesh from the bone, snapping those bones with such ease, and I think what
went through my mind was an unconscious realization that I was just meat.
This was all in day’s work, it was nothing personal.
It was hungry and I was there.
As it ripped my limbs from my body I think accepted my fate.
I was seafood, and it was a bad day to go surfing.
Do you know what they say about me now?
They say I shouldn’t be alive.
But I am, and here’s my story.
It was October, 2014, and my girlfriend and I had decided to go to the beach.
This was off the coast of Esperance in Western Australia, some of the most beautiful and
enchanting coastline in the country.
But I was there for the surfing, not so much the views.
You could say surfing was my life; it was what I was put here to do.
Morning, afternoon, day in, day out, that’s what I did when I wasn’t working.
I never thought about the dangers, if you did, you’d never get in the water.
Statistically, there’s little chance you’ll get seriously injured surfing, never mind
die.
I knew it happened to people.
I knew people had lost their lives to sharks, lost limbs, had their stomach’s ripped open,
but I never thought it would happen to me.
When I wasn’t working that’s all I did, surf.
I traveled the coast, looking for the perfect break, traveling far and wide in an attempt
to discover some hidden gem; my own private surfing paradise.
The more remote, the better, and on the fateful day I had found such a place.
It was about 8 am when I first got in the water.
The waves were perfect.
The forecast for the day in my mind was another brilliant day with the waves, the elements,
the closest thing you get to walking on water.
That’s’ what people might not realize about surfing; the majesty of being carried
along the waves, the sublime feeling of being lost in the moment.
For me, that was my religious ecstasy.
It was my answer to futility.
Everything made sense to me when I was in the water.
I was on an isolated stretch of beach, a place where you’d find few surfers.
What I didn’t know was that the locals were well aware that there had been a lot of shark
sightings there before I ended up staring out at the horizon with my board in hand.
Two great whites had been spotted just over a week before I went in that water.
In fact, I later saw photos of one of those beasts right behind a guy who was surfing.
This I knew nothing about at the time.
My girlfriend was always wary of sharks, but for me, I simply put them out of my mind.
That day she said she was going to lie back and do a bit of sunbathing.
I spent some of my morning trying to teach her this great skill, but she got fed up of
that and then it was time for me to go it alone.
The conditions were right for a shark attack, a large swell and poor visibility in the water,
but as I said, I never worried about such things.
I paddled out, away from my girl, someone who would never see me completely whole again.
The sun shone down on her as I paddled further away into the water, the waves eclipsing my
body, now a soundless image to my lover.
There I was, pretty much isolated, ready to take on the surf.
And then it struck, like being hit by a vehicle, slammed by a submarine.
Immediately I felt something snap, as if whatever hit me had dislocated my knee.
When that happens you need to think rationally, but the panic, the pain, the shock, it overrides
reason.
That’s when I saw the thing, a great white shark, and it wasn’t done with me in the
slightest.
I tried to paddle, but not splash around too much.
What I didn’t know is that the pain I felt wasn’t a break or a dislocation from an
impact, it was a bite.
That beast had bitten right into both my legs just below the knee.
I would have already been gushing blood, but my only concern was not getting hit again.
I headed to the shore, but this thing just kept circling around me.
I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my life, so small, so weak and at the mercy of something
else.
And then again it came, rushing in so fast I was completely helpless.
I tried to push myself up on the board, guard myself against its rage, it’s hunger.
It worked.
That time it took a chunk of the board instead of a chunk of me.
There was perhaps hope now.
The shark moved farther away, and I paddled slowly towards the shore where my girlfriend
was sitting completely unaware of what was happening to me.
But the shark was only setting itself up for another charge.
It had me in its sights and came from behind.
Third time unlucky, I tried to do the same and flip myself around and defend myself with
the board.
It was too fast, too strong, and this time it emerged from the water, and those teeth,
those eyes, were right on me.
It grabbed me in its mouth and swung me to the side, and that’s when my eyes met its
eye.
Something I will never be able to delete from my memory.
Looking into that polished orb, the darkest and blackest thing I’ve ever looked into;
a glaring stare, cruel and cold and perfectly natural.
To this day I can’t think of that sight without shivering at the horror of what I
saw.
I remember vividly how the shutter of its eye closed as it bit down on me.
This is my recurring real life nightmare, and I play it out a lot, even now.
Both my arms are now in its mouth and its violently shaking me, trying to rip them off,
wanting me, needing me as merely another meal in its daily routine.
It dragged me down and I had to hold my breath.
There was no way I was getting away from it, not until it had some of my meat.
The next thing I knew I was back with my head above water, now stained by my own blood.
Not entirely whole I thrashed in this red sea, alive, but close to death.
The shark had ripped off most of the flesh on one of my arms, so much so it looked like
a chicken bone stripped down of all its flesh.
It also had my other hand.
I had to get away, even as disabled as I was I tried to swim.
The irony of it all is that if it hadn’t taken those limbs as a snack it would likely
have kept me under the water and drowned me.
I lost some pieces, but that saved me in the end.
I tried to paddle again towards the beach, in shock, but intent to survive this ordeal.
My surfboard was gone, floating further out to sea.
And then bang, I’m hit again, but not by the same shark.
There are two of them now and all I can do is kick my legs.
I saw one of the sharks heading in for another attack, but then mother nature literally got
my back.
A wave broke behind me and I could just about body surf it and get away from the sharks.
And then another wave came, and I rode that, too.
About this time my girlfriend saw me riding that wave.
She stood up and when I could stand myself she witnessed my lopsided, mangled body, dripping
blood, shredded.
I got lucky again because two cars of people arrived at this isolated bit of beach.
Some people in those families had first aid training, which was another stroke of luck.
The authorities were called, “We’ve got a shark attack here, come immediately.”
I was still trying to get through the shallows to the beach, and then a couple of guys from
those families came out to get me.
I was at that point on my back, my eyes closed, close to death.
I remember them grabbing me and pulling me back to the beach.
They pulled me partly by my torso, having lost one arm and some of the other.
After they got me to the beach they surveyed my injuries.
Both my legs and both my arms had to be tied with a tourniquet or else I would have bled
out.
I was actually conscious of all this going on.
I even said to my girlfriend, I don’t think mom is going to happy about this.
My attempt I guess at very dark humor.
I told her I loved her, because I was aware I might not ever see her again.
I survived only because of those people on the beach who made sure I didn’t bleed out.
I survived because waves broke and carried me away from those animals.
I survived out of love for my girlfriend, for my family.
I also survived because at the beach those people had made a makeshift stretcher out
of a surfboard.
It was hard to breath, I was fighting for my life, and part of me thought this could
be it, the end.
The medics found me, conscious and talking.
I said to the guy, “Please just stop this pain.”
Ravaged, I was taken to the hospital where I would receive multiple blood and plasma
infusions.
They later flew me to Perth for life-saving surgery.
In the end my body was a patchwork of 95 stitches and 45 staples holding it together.
I’d lost most of my left arm and my right hand.
My tendons in my legs were so badly damaged the road to walking again was a long one.
At the beginning it was hard just to get out of bed.
What was merely a meal to those beasts became months and months of mental torment for me.
There were a lot of bad days.
Trust me, not being able to tie your shoelaces has an effect on you.
But thanks to prosthetic limbs I am able to do most basic things now.
I learned to live again, and the days of depression were outnumbered by the good days.
I learned to drive with this new partly-mechanical body.
I cooked food, drank beers with my mates, and I can’t tell you how good it felt just
to be able to hold a bottle again, how great it felt to just brush my own teeth.
My girlfriend has stood by me.
She’s never left my side, and this year we got married.
I even had the chance to visit those families who no doubt saved my life.
I am eternally in debt to those people.
Just four years after the attack I represented Australia in the 2018 Winter Olympics on the
para-snowboarding team.
I came fifth in the Men's Banked Slalom SB-UL and ninth in the Men's Snowboard Cross SB-U.
That’s not bad, but I wanted to do better.
And I did.
In 2019 I got my first medal, which was a bronze in the in the Men's Snowboard Cross
UL at the World Para Snowboard Championships.
You could ask me now if I miss the water, the sublimity of riding waves, that majesty
of the ocean on a sunny day.
My answer would be that I’m ok with the snow.
For the most part its toothless, and I doubt I’ll be snowboarding into a bear any time
soon.
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Also, be sure to check out our other show What If You Woke Up With Shark’s Teeth.
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