Nicholas and I agreed that we needed to have some ‘shock and awe’ to pull off the treaty without the Councils attacking us. “The Council members are aware of my dealings with Emily, and they don’t like it. I can explain inviting the Supreme Vampire and the Master Australian Vampire from a diplomatic standpoint, and in recognition of your support of my Foundation. The wedding is the perfect venue to enforce a temporary truce between the species. I expect to see a lot of powerful Werewolves in attendance.”
“The Council Chairmen and some Regional Chairs will come just to press their claims to the Southern Cross Pack. They don’t like Vicki’s independence, her work with Mermaid clans, or her claim of the entire continent of Australia. They will want to size up Nicholas and their Pack on their own,” Adrienne said.
“They won’t like the Mermaids, but they are not afraid of them,” I said. “They are afraid of you and the power you represent. A show of unity will convince them it would be unwise to challenge the new Australian order.” I let a smile show. “They won’t even feel it when their legs get cut out from underneath them.”
**********
The epic diving and packed events of our tour helped keep my mind off my mate, who was thousands of miles away. I felt sorry for Linda; there was so much good film that I knew a lot of it would never make it to air. There was enough for a show at each stop.
After leaving Singapore, we went to the Maldives in the Indian Ocean. This series of islands spread over hundreds of square miles with clear blue water around them. The islands were surrounded by sand flats, coral reefs, and canyons to form a paradise of shark diving. Linda loved the warm and clear waters because it meant lots of free-diving in revealing bikinis as we cavorted with massive whale sharks. These gentle giants, filter feeders, could grow up to forty feet long and weigh twenty tons. It made for great television as the four of us swam with them. The Maldives had dangerous sharks, like sand tigers and big hammerheads as well. We saw a dozen different species of sharks in our daytime dive, plus turtles, rays, and reef fish.
Then we went out scuba diving at night.
It was un-freaking-believable. Hundreds of nurse shark swam around us, between three and eight feet long, as we formed a circle with our lights on the sandy bottom. Nurse sharks are not an aggressive species, especially during the day. Capable of forcing water over their gills at rest, they often rest on the ocean floor or swimming around slowly. Despite their laid-back nature, you still had to be careful around their mouths; they ranked #4 in the number of humans bit because people don’t consider them dangerous.
At night, these predators came alive. We could see dozens swimming above us while dozens more swam between and around us as we remained motionless on the bottom. The sharks would come right up to us, sometimes begging for scratches like cats. We made two dives into forty-foot water before the charter ended. “Did you SEE that,” I said with a wide grin as I was helped into the dive boat by a member of the crew.
“They learn to associate the boat and the lights with food,” the guide said. They would bring down some bait buckets with whole fish and feed the sharks, causing them to school when they put down anchor in the same spot at night.
Amy was bouncy as she got her dive gear off. Her vision had been steadily improving, so now she could see about fifty percent clearly in front of her. Diving was safer for her now. “I’ve got to get Kai here someday. The diving is wild, and I’d love to get one of those over-water huts on a reef,” she said. The huts were popular with honeymooners and couples, built over the shallow water with only a wooden walkway connecting to them. You could sit and watch the sea life swim under you, or go from bed to ocean in seconds.
“It’s pretty cool, but a long way for me. Even longer for you.” By the time we got back to our rooms, it was almost three, and we slept until it was time to go to the airport.
We had a puddle-jumper and a few connecting flights to get to Capetown, South Africa. The climate was a lot like southern Australia, and the diving was similar as well. The Great White population wasn’t the same as it had been at the turn of the century. Pods of Orcas had devastated the big sharks in False Bay, killing them and eating their livers. The Great White population was still recovering, and they weren’t as concentrated as in the Air Jaws days.
Rio de Janeiro lived up to its reputation with its party atmosphere and great food. Hot bodies and tiny swimsuits were commonplace on the beaches, so our shoots didn’t cause trouble. We did have a lot of armed security around us, and Fiona and Carly kept busy coordinating that. We had overflow crowds at our appearances since my documentaries aired dubbed in Portuguese. Linda took the opportunity to played teaser footage from our current project in the rooms for the people in line, and I could see a lot of smiles in the audience from that.
We spent four hours signing autographs and taking pictures with the crowd. “Esses peitos,” many of the men said with a big smile as they posed with me.
“You’re welcome,” I said. It wasn’t until after the event that I learned from my guide what it meant. ‘These Tits’ had followed me to South America.
The next day, we left for Arraial do Cabo Marine Reserve, a protected reef area a few hours north of Rio. We boarded the boat of the dive charter Linda had organized, and our expert was waiting for us. I gave a big hug to Marine Biologist Sofia Graca Aranha, our expert for the day. We’d met once during a World Wildlife Federation function, and she was one of my heroes. In 2017, Sofia filmed a fourteen-episode show for Brazilian television highlighting the fragile marine life under threat from overfishing and pollution. I’d found it on the Internet as a young girl, watching it with subtitles. She was now in her late thirties and a beautiful woman. Linda was going to love this footage.
The turquoise waters and abundant sea life were great for filming, but we didn’t see any large sharks. That didn’t mean there were none; we saw tigers, blacktips, hammerheads, and others, but nothing of great size. Still, it was a good day; the best reefs were in ten to thirty feet of water, meaning we could free-dive them easily. The corals and tropical fish were beautiful, and we even dove a shipwreck. In between dives, we talked about shark tagging and conservation with Sofia.
I learned a lot from her, especially what it meant to be young and beautiful in the academic world. “It will be harder for you because you have embraced being a model,” she told me. “The internet is forever. Those scenes and sayings will always be there, ready for someone to use to dismiss you as a useless blonde. No matter how smart you are or how many degrees you attain, you will forever be a hyphenated woman.”
“Hyphenated?”
“Yes. Your name will only come after ‘swimsuit model-student’ or ‘producer-biologist’ or “television star-researcher.’ They will choose which ones they emphasize based on how the speaker feels about you or how they want to make you feel in comparison.” It was a hard truth, but she was right. I saw this already on my television and radio appearances. “I had to fight the same way to get respect as I worked for my doctorate. Some men feel threatened by the combination of beauty, strength, and intellect. Eventually, the ones that know you respect your intellect, but you have to prove yourself by working twice as hard.”
“Do you regret making the show?” Like me, her show had made her famous, but she had the same ‘dash’ problem now.
“No. For me, it was never about being sexy or famous; it was about the ocean and its life. If people found me sexy, that was on them. This reality show you are making is dangerous. Edit it one way, and it’s fun and educational; edit it another way, and it becomes frivolous and exploitative. That’s why most reality show stars end up looking bad. It is the producer that has the power to shape how people feel about the subjects.”
“I’m the producer,” I replied. “You’re right; I saw that in my last documentary. They made me look more qualified than I was when it easily could have been the ditzy spokesmodel routine.”
“And you will have more power and influence as a producer of these shows than you ever will as a model or a student,” she said. “My advice? Don’t worry about degrees. You don’t need the money or exposure from modeling. Learn how to make high-quality television shows and use your face and talent to get people to watch. You will educate more people and do the world more good with your documentaries than by sitting in class, listening to lectures.”
“Do you think so?”