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December 20, 2004

The life aquatic | Dave Sinclair brings shark diving to the masses from his Port Clyde fishing operation

By Andy Vietze
When Capt. Dave Sinclair pulls up to the docks at the Port Clyde General Store, people often give the six-foot-square cage on the back of his boat a few quizzical glances. And they tend to be a little astonished when he tells them what it's for. The custom-made steel box on the deck of the 38-foot Lady Anne is used by scuba divers to get up close and personal with sharks.

"We get the 'Are there really sharks in Maine?' question a lot," says the 56-year-old diver who runs Sea Ventures Charters, a dive and sportfishing company that offers diving, fishing and charter services. There are, indeed, and more than people think. "We see a pretty good variety," Sinclair says. "Mostly blue sharks, but also basking sharks, porbeagles and even makos. A lot of people don't understand or expect that. And a lot of the ones we get here are pretty big," with some reaching 800 pounds.

Sinclair has been putting on his wetsuit and diving with sharks for decades, and he's so comfortable with the sharp-toothed predators he refers to them as simply "fish," with the same sort of easy familiarity he might mention the mackerel and pollock he catches on his open-water fishing trips. An ex-cop, he started doing his day-long shark dives in 1996, along the way establishing his own unique niche in Maine. While a lot of people offer shark fishing in Maine, shark diving is not something you see every day.

The outings typically shove off from the Port Clyde dock around 8 or 8:30 in the morning, and Sinclair and his three-person crew will take a party of as many as six certified divers out 30 to 40 miles. There they'll stir up the waters with a bloody, oily chum of herring. The cage is then lowered into the water, where it sits just below the surface, with the entrance hatch on top.

When the sharks show up ˆ— and they're usually pretty hungry to do so ˆ— the divers get down in the cage to peer through the horizontal iron bars at the toothy carnivores and take pictures. Because the dive is so shallow, taking place just 10 or so feet below the surface, the divers don't have to worry much about decompression or the bends, and their air tanks last a long time. They'll generally get in and out of the water at will all day long.

Oftentimes divers are surprised by the lack of aggression shown by supposedly vicious sharks. "People think they're getting in with maneaters," says Sinclair, "and after a while, when they see how docile these fish are and how shy they are, they tend to get a little confident and they'll get into the water outside of the cage. And then they'll see a 10- or 12-footer come by and they'll get right back to the cage."

When Sinclair isn't taking divers down with sharks he's leading them through shipwrecks, helping them renew their certification or simply showing them Maine's underwater sights. He'll often take groups to the cold waters of Monhegan, where rock walls plunge straight down. "You can't even see the walls for all of the sea life," he says. "If you bring a flashlight, it's even colorful."

However, finding those clients in the first place can be a bit of a chore. Many people find the idea of diving in Maine unusual ˆ— let alone diving with sharks. The state's waters have a reputation for being cold and dark and not nearly as colorful or full of life as the azure coasts of the Caribbean. That's not necessarily true, says Sinclair. People are "generally pleasantly surprised when they dive here. When you actively look at the ecosystem, you find that there are more nutrients ˆ— and more life ˆ— here in Maine than in the popular dive spots," he explains. "It says something [about the richness of life] that all of the seafood comes from the coast of Maine. You just have to get past the cold and the fact that there's less visibility."

Waterworld
Sinclair has been exploring underwater since his days at Waterville High School, and took his mask, tank and fins with him when he joined the Navy for a two-year stint after college at the University of Maine. He saw a lot of the world ˆ— and the undersea world ˆ— that way. "I was on a ship and just jumped off whenever I could, and I got to see some tropical places," he recalls.

After he was discharged he spent more than 20 years with the state police, working in a variety of capacities ˆ— patrolling as a trooper, working in the drug unit and teaching at the Criminal Justice Academy ˆ— and he also directed the state's 10-man dive team. The special operations unit was made up of divers who were available on an on-call basis to look for stolen property, evidence in homicide cases and vehicles that went into the water. It was nasty work, taking him into some "real holes," but he enjoyed the challenge. Criminals, he says, "don't throw things in nice places."

In 1995, Sinclair was offered the opportunity to retire early, and he took it to concentrate on his fishing and diving trips, which he'd started doing on a part-time basis in 1984. His initial offerings were deep-sea fishing trips, taking passengers out 20 or 30 miles to drop lines for mackerel, pollock, tuna and sharks. He learned a lot about sharks from these trips, often hauling big ones onto the deck so his customers could get a look at them.

The sharks that Sinclair and his clients caught didn't get eaten; they got tagged. The
captain lassoed them, climbed on their backs like a downeast version of the Crocodile Hunter and placed a small tag on their fins to help the National Marine Fisheries Service track them for its Apex Predator Research Program. When the fish turned up again somewhere else, scientists used the data to study their movements and habits. "It's amazing to see where they go," Sinclair says. "We had two in a row that showed up on the west coast of Africa, two in the Azores, one in the Flemish cap and one in Cuba."

What they've learned over the years is that sharks follow warm water currents up through the Gulf of Maine, just like whales do, migrating north in summer and heading back to tropical waters in winter. They don't usually come close to shore or cruise the state's beaches, instead doing their hunting out several miles; other than divers and fishermen, most people are unaware they're there.

After spending years fishing for sharks, and diving with them on his own, the idea came to Sinclair that people might pay for the opportunity to get up close to these misunderstood fish safely. "I always had the idea that I wanted to get in the water with them, but the boat I had couldn't accommodate a cage," he says. When he bought the Lady Anne, which is named after his wife, he had the cage custom made.

Sinclair has gotten the word out about his offerings by advertising here and there ˆ— mostly in diving magazines ˆ— and networking with dive clubs. Schools and clubs from outside Maine will often put together their own tours, then hire Sinclair to lead the Maine section. "Those are the best kinds of trips," he says, "because the most difficult part of the job is simply the logistical stuff lining things up. I'm already booking now with dive groups for next summer." He also gets referrals from inns, resorts like the Samoset in Rockport and dive shops in Maine.

Who are the daredevils that are getting into his cage? Mostly certified divers already on vacation in Maine who are looking for a bit of adventure. Diving in exotic places is currently all the rage, and Maine is considered exotic to people who usually do their exploring in tropical waters. "People are going to places like Antarctica these days, and cold water is becoming more popular," Sinclair explains.

Today, Dave Sinclair's lifestyle has become as seasonal as the sharks he pursues. Like many Mainers who prefer to be outdoors, he's found that diversification is key. January finds him teaching basic scuba classes and doing commercial scallop diving. He'll also hire himself out to do other commercial diving, recovering property or helping on wreck dives when the chance comes up. His sightseeing and dive trips pick up in spring. Summer, when the tourists ˆ— and the sharks ˆ— arrive, is the high season. That's when Sinclair finds himself busiest, taking out parties for shark and dive trips, deep-sea fishing expeditions and charter boat rides and sightseeing tours. (He also took a part-time job at L.L. Bean for the holidays.)

Sinclair admits none of this is making him rich. (He declined to reveal how much he makes in a year.) He takes his boat out for dive, fishing and charter trips about 80 times a year. The average cost of a trip for six people is $600 (shark dives are $780, or $130 per person), but he doesn't always have a full boat. Factor in all of the overhead ˆ— the insurance, the boat, the fuel, the crew, the base cottage at the shore ˆ— and it's not a bad wage, but not one that is going to make him millions. "All of these trips are fun or I wouldn't been doing them," he says simply. "This is not a very lucrative business."

Sea Ventures Charters

Port Clyde

CEO: Dave Sinclair

Founded: 1996

Service: Boat charters (fishing, diving, sightseeing), shark cage diving, SCUBA instruction, commercial diving services, commercial salvage

Employees: Three full-time, four seasonal

Revenues: Did not disclose

Contact: 685-4693

www.divefishmaine.com

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