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It's called sardine fever for a good reason. It's a highly contagious condition that afflicts both man and wildlife with startling voracity. The symptoms include a temporary loss of clear rationale and acute sensory overload. To witness this madness in the ocean off the South Africa's Wild Coast is to witness a spectacle like no other in the natural world calendar. The Big fish Television team committed the whole of June to capturing this feverish phenomenon on camera.  It's quite simple. Every year, billions upon billions of sardines come to within a few metres of the coastline as they head north, driven near to the surface by a cold current and their appetite for plankton. In their wake, just about everything with a mouth follows. Thousands of dolphins, sharks galore, humpback whales, killer whales, gannets. The list goes on and on. Our mission was to get in the middle of the action without becoming a part of the food chain ourselves. We tried to cover every eventuality. Our guide for the trip was the hugely likeable and determined dive operator Neville Ayliffe from Reefteach, Sodwana Bay.
Together with his charming and super-efficient wife Wendy, they ensured that our weeks of chasing the action would be as hassle-free as humanly possible in the circumstances. We were, after all, in the back and beyond, miles from civilisation for the most part. Wendy's cooking was to prove a gastronomic delight. So we were ready. Our boat for the duration was Neville's seven-metre rib; in which we would bounce through the breakers like a fairground ride every morning at the crack of dawn. Up above, Warren piloted his microlight, constantly radioing the positions of any activity he could find in the warm waters of the Indian Ocean between Port St Johns and Msikaba, until eventually we would make our way to the final destination of the sardines, Durban.  At first light on Day One, we were excited yet apprehensive. Stories abounded of wild bait balls and shark frenzies. Already, a copper shark while snorkelling right on top of a bait ball had bitten one British photographer Tony White. Tony was simply unfortunate enough to get his arm in the way of a shark powering through a swirling mass of fish. Yes, it was dangerous and yes, he was seriously injured. But the doctors stitched his wound superbly and he'll be back on the sardine run, with no less affection and appreciation for one of the sea's most misunderstood creatures, the shark. Amazingly, we sighted diving birds within a matter of hours of heading out. In all the excitement, it was difficult fully to compose ourselves. We pitched over the side with just our snorkels and immediately, I enjoyed the buzz of my first bait ball.
The diving gannets had gone but the common dolphins squealed and clicked furiously as they burst through the remaining mass of sardines. It was only a matter of time before they would all vanish into the mouths of dolphins and sharks enjoying a feast that was to reach epic proportions in the coming days and weeks. I quickly clambered back onto the rib, deciding there was just enough time to get on my scuba gear. This made it easier to film the bait ball from below. Little did I realise but a large copper shark was heading straight for me. I felt a thump against the back of my head. At first I thought it was a fellow diver kicking me with his fins but then swiftly turned with my camera to see to two-and-a-half metre bronze whaler bolting past my right ear towards the surface.  Only when I was back on the boat did one of our team James Colman reveal that it was the shark that had actually bumped me. James, who works in the City as consultant, was thereafter appointed as my personal 'shark wrangler', complete with unloaded spear, to cover my back. On at least one occasion he was called upon to ward off an over-zealous shark with reasonable force. This was not for the feint-hearted for the next three weeks, the routine was the pretty much the same. Every morning the microlight would take to the air and we would hold onto our seats as Neville skilfully negotiated the breakers. Then it was a case of heading out to sea, looking, waiting and hoping. The big shoals were yet to come. We needed a cold front to come through, so the sea temperature would dip and bring the sardines to the surface.
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