People are often quick to associate sharks with just one breed, the Great White, thanks to the movie Jaws.
I wanted more people to appreciate the many other species of less or non-aggressive sharks that one can swim with freely and revel in their magnificence.
So I started The Dorsal Effect to engage shark fishermen in an alternative source of livelihood so that they can stop hunting shark.
How does it work?
I thought it'd be great for people looking for a chance to do good, to receive something they like in return.
It's not charity. 
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Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
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Guests pay for an unforgettable experience in Lombok, Indonesia. The fishermen there take the guests out in their boats to pristine snorkel sites and amazing, secluded beaches, far away from the usual tourist areas.
The fair wages the fishermen receive keep them away from hunting sharks.
I'm not ashamed to say that it was the love for sharks more than wanting to help the fishermen that spurred me to set up the social enterprise.
People like me who love sharks often get enraged when we see pictures of them being killed. But as I got involved in the lives of the fishermen, I came to understand that it is not their fault that sharks are dying.
Since there isn't a viable, alternative source of income for them, hunting sharks is their way of getting by, and it's not without its hardships, including being at sea several weeks at a time because the shark population has been so depleted they keep having to go out farther and farther to hunt.
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
When You See a Whale Shark
I vaguely remember the first time I encountered a whale shark. It was in Okinawa, Japan, five years ago and behind a glass wall.
I barely knew anything about marine life then, and traipsing through the aquarium made me none the wiser, despite the endless array of merchandise at the souvenir shop.
Two years later, I found myself in the middle of the Indian Ocean off Ningaloo Reef in Australia, sitting in a boat, snorkel gear in hand and anxiously waiting for the spotters' signals.
The moment the cry of "whale shark!" came, all of us jumped into the ocean and started chasing the most breathtaking creature.
It's in that moment when you forget how to breathe through your snorkel gear and your heart is racing with exhilaration, that you feel a shift and a connection.
Enlightenment came after beholding the creature in its 6m-long glory and in its natural habitat. That's a juvenile, by the way, but we still kept a safe distance, of course.
Take Action
Inspired by our story, Eunice went on her first shark-conservation trip with The Dorsal Effect. Read more about it!
Explore other travel for good experiences
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
You never forget the first time you encounter a whale shark in the wild — how small you feel amid its massiveness and the vastness of the ocean.
I have a photograph of the whale shark in the aquarium in Okinawa when I visited but I didn't have an underwater camera when I was at Ningaloo Reef.
The memory of the ocean encounter proved stickier, however, and I learnt far more about respecting nature and the natural feeding patterns of whale sharks through it.
It has also caused me to contemplate, at great length on several occasions, the dichotomy between conservation and captivity.
Sure, we want to give our children the best kind of education in the safest of confines.
But is forcefully taking marine life from the oceans into glass confines, and sometimes coercing them into performing unnatural acts, the way to teach the value of a thriving ecosystem of symbiosis between man and nature? Surely there is deep irony there.
Sometimes, the best education comes from experiencing marine life and wildlife in its natural habitat.
Granted, parents may have reservations about their children encountering a bus of a creature in the ocean, however harmless it may be.
But I think, when I have children, I would want them to swim with sharks in the open waters like I do.
I started a social enterprise because I wanted to build a sustainable model for self-empowerment and I've been amazed at the small transformations I've seen in the fishermen.
Taking Shape
When I see them offering to help guests on their own accord, like putting a life vest under the head of a guest dozing off on the boat, I know they have taken ownership of the project. 
So I keep encouraging them — not forcing it down their throats — to make money from ecotourism instead of shark hunting.
I am still far from my dream of seeing many shark fishermen make a full switch to ecotourism, more learn about sustainable fishing, sharks tagged and adopted, and coral reefs protected, first in Lombok and then in other shark markets around the world.
However, with each boat trip that I bring guests on, I know this dream is taking shape.
Someone who came on one of our boat trips recently told me: "We are only as big as the dreams we dare to live."
So I dream big, since dreaming small costs the same as dreaming big after all.
How you can help: Take a spectacular vacation and you'll support fishermen and save sharks at the same time.
Kathy is the founder of The Dorsal Effect, a winner in the Singapore International Foundation's Young Social Entrepreneurs programme in 2013.
Special thanks to DDB Singapore for producing this story with us.
