Day 1 – Ambushes
Kyle’s brother meets us outside his condo, coffee in hand. “Kyle is inside, just waking up!”

The crew crams in an elevator, tiptoes out into the hall, and I pound on his door. Kyle answers with no shirt on, Q-Tip in his ear! “Better get dressed brother!! Are my first words. (I get so excited I throw in a bunch of “brother” and “stoked” and “dude”… and feel terrible that maybe I blew it. When I ask the Producer later, he says: “No way, that stuff is great. We want you to be you. Just realize that in 20 years, if someone digs into the CBC archives, you are gonna' sound like a goof!!)

The gravity of what we are asking Kyle to do hits me when I spot the shark-bite scars on his hand.

We coordinate with a crew in Calgary, and I ambush Michael by phone. He is taken by surprise in the company boardroom. Later that day we all meet at the Vancouver Aquarium, where I tell the boys we are headed for the Bahamas!

Day 2 – Travel, Travel, Travel.
Four flights to get from Vancouver to Nassau, Bahamas. Almost don’t get on the last one. The flight is over booked, and the gate is asking for seven people to voluntarily stay behind. Our whole crew presses forward. We can’t afford to be missing anyone tomorrow.

Day 3 – Learning to Dive.
Weather is looking ominous at breakfast, but sun appears. Kyle and Michael both have to get certified on SCUBA equipment. The folks at Stuart Cove’s take over. This is Kyle’s first time in the ocean since the shark bite last fall. He does great. I suspect it helps that his Dive Master is a six-foot tall, tanned Danish woman.

During the afternoon we dive at the James Bond site – location of a wreck used in Thunderball, and an airplane carcass from Never Say Never Again. Sean Connery dove here years ago! How cool is that? Michael has some real problems equalizing but, bit by bit, we get him down.

The real test of the day is still to come: a night swim. But a massive storm descends on the Bahamas. Lightning is crashing down everywhere. The sky opens and buckets of rain pour down. It looks like we will have to cancel. The captain watches the weather radar. Suddenly he yells, “We can go, RIGHT NOW. We have a half hour window. We’ll never make it back to this harbour, but I know where I can duck to safety.”

And we’re gone to sea. Tossing and turning and thrown about. The boys are sheet white. They have no idea what is up. We finally anchor and set a buoy 20 metres away. It is pitch black out. The crew is having problems with their lights. Things are stalled. The captain screams over the storm: “Its now or never!”

I talk the guys through the challenge. I tell them we have safety divers in the water if anything happens. I promise I will leap in at the first sign they are faltering. But no matter what precautions we have in place, this is still scary stuff, especially for those with a shark-phobia.

Kyle goes first, diving like an Olympian off the back of the boat into the tumultuous waters. Boom, boom, boom; he strokes out strongly, and turns back.

Now its Michael’s turn. “Take your time out there,” I advise. “If you get a mouthful of water, chill out. Tread water for a few seconds. Then start again.”

“I don’t know how to tread water.” Michael drops a bomb. Silence in the storm as my mind races.

“Then you’ll have to wear a life jacket.” We find one, get him in it, and he goes. Inch by inch he claws himself across the void. He is coming back. I reach for his outstretched hand. A wave hauls him backwards, and our fingertips miss. Then I have him, hauling him spluttering on to the back deck.

“That was the scariest thing I have ever done,” he finally mutters, and I know it is true. I am very proud of both of them. This was their NOW moment. Exhausted, we creep to shore and back to the hotel.

Day 4 – Swimming with Sharks.
What an awesome day! Astounding. So magnificent to be in the water with such graceful creatures.

We start by chumming them to the back of the boat. The first glimpse of the massive grey shapes circling below us causes everyone to start. They hit the tuna bait hard, exploding upwards in a spray of teeth and water and skin.

Time to get in. First we throw on chain mail armour. Once the cameras are set, I jump off the back, then Michael and Kyle slip in. This is really hard for Kyle. He is hyperventilating, big time. The key to SCUBA is slow, controlled breathing, and I try to focus him on that as his mantra. Once everyone is OK, down we go. We position ourselves on the bottom in 50 feet of water, and then the bait comes out. We are surrounded by sharks. They are everywhere. Not interested in us at all, just the bait. But remember to keep your hands in against your body! The sharks bang up against us like a football scrum. Mouths open they swim straight at us, veering off at just the last second. It is amazing.

We spend all afternoon in the water, completing two long dives. The guys have more and more fun. Once the bait is all gone, and the sharks have dispersed, the dive master signals for us to search through the sand below us. Shaking the tiny grains through our chain mail gloves, we find shark’s teeth, lost in the frenzy. Everyone keeps one as a memento.