The most universally feared animal on the planet is without doubt Carcharodon carcharias, the great white shark. Growing up to 4 times bigger than any land carnivore, with serrated teeth up to 3 inches long, and a proven ability to detect one drop of blood in a million drops of seawater, is it any wonder. A naturally pre-programmed killing machine with a huge appetite which on more than the odd occasion has included people. Yet when it comes to more general encounters involving man, despite its reputation as the top predator in the ocean, it is no match for the equally ruthless efficiency of the top predator on the planet, man, and as such the great white has become an endangered species. So much so that in several parts of the world it is now totally protected. In South Africa, anglers are not allowed to target them deliberately with rod and line. This however does not mean they never encounter them. Around the Cape area, they are encountered regularly both snatching hooked game fish from lines at the side of the boat, and picking up baits targeting other shark species. But with more than 50 shark species to be found in the cool waters around False Bay and Cape Point, it would always be pot luck whether you wanted to tangle with a great white or not.

One place you would definitely not want to fall in the water is around Dyer Island around 8 miles offshore from the village of Gansbaai which is a couple of hours driving to the east of Cape Town. In particular, one specific patch of water between Dyer Island and Geyser Island known around the world as shark alley. Many of the TV documentaries about great whites are filmed either here or around Seal Island in False Bay. Huge numbers of cape fur seals and penguins use the islands as bases from which to hunt and on which to breed, a fact that has not been lost on the biggest concentration of great white sharks in the world. Yet here was I paying out good money to climb into a wet suit and get in the water with them - and they say that sharks have small brains. Some preparation had been done for the dive the previous morning in the predator tank at the Two Oceans aquarium in Cape Town, which was interesting to say the least. But whatever level of training you undertake, nothing is ever going to fully prepare you for this.

The plan had been to free dive with the sharks in the aquarium, cage dive with the great whites, then rod and line fish for sharks as a three pronged approach to getting some interesting pictures and experiences. Sounds straight forward enough on paper, but in reality nothing could be further from the truth. The aquarium side of things was never going to be a problem. But as boat anglers will be only too aware, getting afloat at sea often can be. The South African summer (our winter) sees a lot of strong south easterly winds, which for False Bay where all the fishing takes place, is very bad news. Different species of fish including tuna, yellowtails and kabeljou (kob) put in appearances throughout the year, so there is always something to target. Sharks too are available all year round, but the best chance is undoubtedly October to April, which takes in the late summer windy period. South Africa's summer on the other hand is not the best time to experience great whites. These are cold water fish at their most numerous over the winter months, so any visit must be based on priorities and compromise.

The morning of the cage diving dawned wet and over cast. Heavy showers and mist intermittently dogged the 2 hour run to Gansbaai. On arrival at the harbour it was obvious conditions were not going to be great, on top of which the boats had not been to sea for several days due to conditions and were therefore unable to give any hint of what we might expect to find. When the making tide had pushed sufficient water into the little harbour, the boat was slipped from its trailer. Carefully we picked our way between the rocks and kelp beds for a few hundred metres, then we were off at full bore. Low lying mist was hanging across the horizon, and it wasn't until we were almost on top of it that Dyer Island came into view. A cold shiver immediately went down my spine. Miserable cold conditions, quite a nasty sea and breeze were brewing, on top of which the thought of what might be to come. Minutes later, the boat entered the gap between the two islands; the notorious shark alley. The smell from the seal colony was overwhelming. The seals were present quite literally in their thousands. The larder was full to capacity. Surely the sharks would be well aware of this.

Shark alley was eerie, but it was sheltered and therefore calm. When we left the channel at the other end conditions were vastly different. Huge swells were rolling and breaking over the shallower parts of the reef and the wind was freshening by the minute. Frank, our guide, brought the boat to anchor right off the point. Top spot for sharks entering the alley, but one of the worst spots in the area for sea conditions. It was with some relief that we were told that the cage was unlikely to go in the water as there was a risk it might end up under the boat in the worsening conditions. Frank also organises guided open water dives and snorkelling here with the great whites. Thank God it was too rough for that too. At best it was going to be a shark-viewing day, or even half a day depending on sea conditions. With this in mind the crew set to work immediately removing the livers from small sharks and tying them, along with a large tuna head, to a short rope with a float which was thrown over the back of the boat. Blood from the fish box was also washed into the water. There was nothing more we could do other than wait.

Actually, that isn't quite true. They had another attractor on board known as the 'biscuit'. This comprised a flat fibreglass cut out of a seal with a layer of thick black rubber on each side tied to a length of heavy monofilament. It reminded me of dry fly fishing on a big reservoir. A seal imitation tantalizingly tweaked across the top aimed at surface feeding fish. It couldn't have been on the water more than a few seconds when a huge bow wave and dorsal fin appeared behind it. 'Het jy dit gesien' Frank shouted in Afrikaans to the crew. Yes, we did see it. You couldn't have missed it. 'Oas is in besigtieid - looks like we're in business' came the reply. 'Bambino, bambino' was the next comment. I thought yeah, they would say that. It looked big enough to me. Repeatedly the fish was dawn right up to the boat. It looked awesome. Then, on one slow approach to the bait, it quickly turned and disappeared. Moments later the reason became apparent. 'Bambino' had been the right description for our first fish. Obviously there must be a pecking order when it comes to great white feeding and this fish simply was in another league. I watched the new fish slide past the corner of the boat through the camera lens. It seemed to go on forever. This was what we had come to see.

In total we had five different great whites to the boat - three small ones of differing sizes, and two which can only be described as huge. Despite all the stories, the biggest great white ever authentically measured was 6 metres exactly. Our fish were between 3 and 4 metres. But it isn't only the length. They look like submarines in terms of width and depth. Another old wives tale in need of being dispelled is their aggression. They are in fact extremely shy and wary fish. The official International Shark Attack File records just 74 fatal shark attacks over the past 100 years, not all of which are attributable to great whites. Around 75% of great white shark attack victims actually survive, the reason being that great whites are able to identify the nature of their food at the first bite. What they are looking for is high-energy fat content such as in cape fur seals. The problem is the violence of the attack, after which they back off allowing the victim to bleed to death. More often than not, great whites only recognise their mistake after they have hit you, by which time catastrophic damage may well have been done. A swimmer actually stands more chance of being stuck by lightening than by a shark, even in South African waters.

Worsening sea conditions made it difficult to stand still enough to take photographs or to be in the right position when a fish hit surface to grab the bait. In the end I lay on top of the outboard motor cowl waiting for the crew to shout 'here she comes'. Sometimes a fish would glide by under the surface. Other times they would hit the baits vertically actually poking their heads out of the water. On more than one occasion the bait would be held leading to a violent tug of water between the crew and the shark, with water flying every where including all over the camera. But most un-nerving of all was when they came up to the outboard motor and got hold of it, particularly when I was lying on top of it, pushing the boat around beam on to the swell. Amongst an incredible array of sensory equipment, sharks are able to detect the minute electrical signals given off by all living creatures. What was attracting them to the outboards was the electrolysis caused by the different metals used being immersed in seawater. These weren't violent attacks. They were simply taking the outboard leg in their jaws to see what it was. A couple of bangs on the head from Franks wellington boot was usually sufficient to persuade them to let go.

The deteriorating weather at Gansbaai which gave us quite an interesting ride back, particularly where the sea shallowed around the rocks and kelp beds close to shore, marked the start of a spell of wind which was to last right up until our flight home. I had two days fishing booked with Rob Naysmith who operates a trailed 22 boat powered by twin 115 hp Mercury outboards from Millers Point just inside False Bay. Each morning at around 5.30 am, Rob checked the wind speed with the lighthouse keeper at Cape Point before phoning me to say the sea was too rough. This continued right through until our last full day. Again on the last morning it was too rough. But by around 9.30 it had dropped and the sea was settling. The problem was that I had to be at the airport by 6.00 pm that afternoon. None the less, we decided to give it a few hours. Rob motored 'Jabulani' up into the shallower reaches of the inner bay. This is where he takes most of his big sharks. In the main these are bronze whalers, ragged tooth's, threshers, gulley sharks and cat sharks. Huge rays are also caught using the same tactics. Blues and mako's are more active in the open water off Cape Point. As for the great whites, they get everywhere. Rob once counted no less than 38 great whites in a single day, and witnessed 24 in a single sighting feeding on the carcass of a dead whale.

Considering the earlier forecast, conditions inside were perfect. The sea was not too rough, but more importantly, it was coloured. The secret with sharks in murky conditions is plenty of chum. Dozens of chopped pilchards were fed into the water, followed by handfuls of mushed up tuna flesh putting a nice oily film across the surface. We could do no more at that stage than sit back and wait. Rob was expecting ragged tooth sharks - the ones I had been swimming with in the aquarium. In fact he had provided those fish for the aquarium, which is where his son works. Bronze whalers were also expected. Sharks between 500 and 600 pounds are regularly caught, with a boat record estimated at 1,400 pounds which was released in the water. As I sat waiting, Dawn occupied herself catching bluefish and scad for live bait. Small fish were also tearing the softer pilchard baits to pieces. But the live baits were faring much better. It was on a live bait rod that the first run appeared which unfortunately was dropped and did not return. This was followed by three pyjama sharks (bull huss with stripes). Then with barely enough time for the chum trail to have got going, it was time to be heading off back to the airport. Disappointed - yes. This however soon gave way to a resolve to go back and try again under more favourable conditions. For big shark potential, I cannot think of a more inspiring place.