From a distance, the sands of Monomoy Island appear to be freckled with dozens of rocks and logs. As the boat I’m on sails around the southeastern tip of Cape Cod, a hook-shaped peninsula located roughly 70 miles south of Boston, I realize those lumps on the shore are actually dozens of seals. They are the main reason the waters hugging the outer edge of Cape Cod are now home to one of the densest seasonal great white shark hot spots in the world—and it’s nicknamed Shark Alley.
I’m on a great white shark charter organized by the Atlantic White Shark Conservancy (AWSC), a nonprofit organization founded in 2013 that’s dedicated to white shark research and conservation in Cape Cod. The famed beach destination has, in recent years, become a hotbed for white shark tourism. It’s a new reality that differs sharply from that of 50 years ago.
The area, particularly the island of Martha’s Vineyard, located some 50 miles off the coast, was a key setting for Steven Spielberg’s 1975 blockbuster Jaws, which ignited a widespread fear of and hatred for the species. After decades of targeted killing and a decimation of their main prey source, the gray seals, great whites disappeared from Cape Cod waters. A wave of federal protections and conservation efforts have allowed the species to slowly return, and they now call the area home between the months of May and October.
Cape Cod no longer solely draws tourists for its stretches of white sandy dunes, turquoise waters, and petite coastal villages. Over the last few years, great whites have become the stars of a series of ecotourism initiatives aimed at bringing us people up close and personal with the apex predator. Charters like those offered by the AWSC aim to foster a new respect and appreciation for the often maligned species while also allowing visitors to witness how researchers are studying the sharks in responsible and sustainable ways.
“The majority of our guests are coming down to the Cape specifically to see great whites,” says naturalist Hannah Leary, the ecotourism coordinator for the AWSC, “and we’re lucky enough to have them right in our backyard.”
Why there are so many sharks around Cape Cod
Groups of plump gray seals lounge on the white sands around Chatham, seemingly unbothered that the waters around them are teeming with apex predators.
Photo by nowheretaylor/Shutterstock
The surge in great white sharks in Cape Cod is due, in large part, to the rebounding local gray seal population. Gray seals, a favorite meal for adult great whites, were heavily hunted to near-extinction from the late 1800s until the passing of the 1972 Marine Mammal Protection Act. Great whites were also designated as a prohibited species (making it illegal to catch or harm them) in federal waters in 1997 and in Massachusetts waters in 2005, and therefore began gradually trickling back into the area some 20 years ago.
Today, there are at least half a dozen great white tours on Cape Cod, costing up to $3,500. In 2016, the AWSC launched its first charters, which initially consisted of shadowing a research vessel as the organization tagged sharks. As interest grew, the AWSC’s charters, accompanied by naturalists and ranging from $500 to $2,650 for private group expeditions that run for two and a half hours, evolved in both length and scope. “Now we’re at the point that we can run [charters] three times a day, seven days a week,” says Leary. A portion of the AWSC’s ticket cost directly funds great white research.
How to see the sharks
Monomoy Island, a nearly eight-mile-long spit of three sandy barrier islands off the coast of Chatham, is a natural wildlife refuge and human access is severely restricted.
Photo by Ethan Daniels/Shutterstock
Great whites in Cape Cod are often found in waters less than 15 feet deep. AWSC charters are accompanied by spotter airplanes with pilots who are easily able to spot the sharks’ dark silhouettes against the waters’ white sands from above. They’ll then direct the boats to the sharks via radios. Once a shark has been spotted, guests can deploy a hydrophone, a specialized microphone used to detect and record acoustic signals underwater, which will tell if the shark has been previously tagged by researchers and display data on it.
Any sightings during charters are also plugged into Sharktivity, a phone app launched by the AWSC in 2016, where citizens, researchers, and safety officials can upload shark sightings and photos to reduce encounters and encourage public safety. If a shark is spotted close to a popular beach, for instance, users will get a push notification through the app to warn them.
“Since these sharks are right along the beach where people are recreating all summer, there are definitely safety implications,” says Leary. While great white attacks in the area are incredibly rare (there have been six attacks in Cape Cod since 1958, one of which was fatal), researchers and public safety officials recommend swimming close to shore and avoiding areas with seals and fish.
Data from tagged sharks, which are assigned names like Cow, Fruit Loops, and Miss November, can also be accessed through the app. It’s a way to make great white shark science research accessible while encouraging interest and a desire to protect the species.
“We just had the 50th anniversary of Jaws last year,” says Leary, “and we came to realize that a lot of the fear has been turned into fascination.”
