How It Feels to Be Completely Surrounded by Whale Sharks

I never thought I’d say this—but I was outnumbered by whale sharks.

Not just one. Not two. But five, maybe six of them, gliding past me in every direction. It was overwhelming in the best possible way.

That moment, floating in the deep blue of Saleh Bay, I wasn’t a tourist anymore.

I was just a quiet observer, completely immersed in their world.

It All Started Quietly

The day began like most ocean excursions do—sleepy-eyed, slightly chilled, coffee in hand as the boat pushed off the dock. I’d heard about Saleh Bay from someone I met in Bali, who said: “It’s not just the sharks, it’s the energy of the place.” I didn’t fully understand what they meant.

But I get it now.

There’s a sort of sacred silence as you approach the bay. You’re not entering a zoo or a marine park. You’re entering their world. A place that feels untouched, reverent—where time slows down and nature moves at its own pace.

First Sighting: Awe Hits You Like a Wave

We hadn’t been scanning the water for long before someone on the boat shouted, “There’s one!”

And then another.

And another.

I rushed to the edge and saw their shadows—massive, slow, and strangely elegant.

Then came the moment I’ll never forget: I slid into the water and looked down.

Right below me, three whale sharks. One headed straight beneath my fins, another to my left, and one swimming away into the distance like a spaceship vanishing into a void.

And suddenly, I was surrounded.

What It’s Like to Be in the Middle of It All

It’s disorienting at first.

You think you’ll panic. You imagine flailing, gasping, maybe swimming back to the boat. But you don’t. You go still.

There’s something about their calmness that calms you. Their movement is rhythmic. Graceful. Measured. You realize they don’t care that you’re there. You’re just a speck in their enormous underwater galaxy.

I floated there—heart pounding, mind racing, body still.

One passed just below me, so close I could see the gills moving gently.

Another came from the side, its mouth wide open, vacuuming invisible plankton from the sea.

I had to remind myself to breathe.

Ethics and the Sumbawa Whale Shark Experience

Here’s what struck me most: the entire experience felt respectful.

The boat didn’t chase the sharks. No one dumped food into the water. We kept our distance. We were reminded gently—but firmly—not to touch, not to follow, not to flash cameras in their faces.

And the sharks? They stuck around anyway. Not because they were lured, but because they belonged here.

That’s the beauty of the sumbawa whale shark ethical approach. It’s not about forcing an encounter. It’s about creating the space for one to happen naturally.

The ocean gives you a moment—and if you’re lucky, you get to share it.

The Inner Shift You Didn’t Expect

There was one moment when I was surrounded on three sides, and I just closed my eyes underwater for a few seconds. The sound of my own breath in the snorkel, the light ripples around me, and the sense of being so… small.

But not in a scary way.

More like… humbled.

Like I’d spent so much of my life trying to be seen, to be heard, to be important. And now, for once, I didn’t need to be anything. Just aware. Just part of the ocean’s rhythm.

I didn’t even reach for my GoPro.

This wasn’t a “content” moment. This was a “remember for the rest of your life” kind of moment.

Saleh Bay: A Place Where You Let Go

Everything about the bay feels organic. It’s not flashy. There’s no massive tourism infrastructure or Instagrammable cafés nearby. It’s just wild water, simple boats, and ancient creatures doing what they’ve done for centuries.

And somehow, that simplicity is what makes it feel so powerful.

There’s something grounding about being far from everything, in a quiet bay on the edge of Sumbawa, watching a creature the size of a bus glide past your body without even a twitch of fear or aggression.

You learn something. Not about marine biology—but about patience. About letting go. About coexistence.

The Boat Ride Back: Quiet Smiles and Salty Hair

No one talked much after we got back on the boat. Just quiet smiles, a few sips of water, and that look people get when they’ve been somewhere sacred.

We didn’t need to say anything.

Our eyes said it all:

Did that really happen? Are we different now?

I think we were.

Final Thoughts (Without Saying “Final Thoughts”)

If you’re looking for an encounter that goes beyond sightseeing, this is it.

This isn’t a checklist activity. It’s not just about spotting a whale shark and snapping a photo. It’s about stepping into a moment that feels real. That sticks with you. That changes you.

And if you want that kind of experience—raw, respectful, and rare—start here: sumbawa whale shark ethical.

I didn’t go to Saleh Bay to find myself.

But I think I left a little piece of my heart in its waters.