The familiar rush of excitement tingled through me as the plane began its descent into the jewel of the Red Sea, Marsa Alam. This was my second visit to the serene beach town, but a first with my small family. As an expert scuba diver, my vacations were never complete without exploring the depths of the sea, and Marsa Alam, with its thriving coral reefs and abundant marine life, was a diver's paradise.

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Our first day was a mix of relaxation and anticipation. While my family basked in the Egyptian sun, I touched base with the local dive center to schedule my underwater adventures. That's where I met Karim, the dive master.

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"I've been charting these waters for over a decade," he told me as we prepared our gear for the first dive. His voice was steady, a calm that comes with the knowledge of the ocean’s whims. We discussed the dive sites, and then, almost as an afterthought, he mentioned the recent shark attack.

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"A tourist was killed not far from here, just a couple of days ago," he said somberly, "but it's different with us divers."

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I nodded, familiar with the inherent risks. As divers, we descend into the sharks' domain, respectful and aware. Swimmers, on the surface, can sometimes be mistaken for prey. I wasn't afraid of sharks; I understood their behavior and the rarity of attacks on divers.

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"The sharks aren't the ones to blame," Karim said as we began our dive, the warm, salty water engulfing us. "It's the imbalance we've caused. Overfishing has driven them closer to the shore in search of food. And some hotels, they're not careful with waste—"

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He didn't need to finish. I knew that throwing food waste into the sea could attract sharks to swimming areas. As we descended deeper, the issue weighed on me, but the underwater world soon offered its distractions.

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We drifted past vibrant corals, their colors a vivid contrast to the blue vastness. Schools of fish fluttered by like confetti, and the occasional moray eel peeked from its crevice. Karim pointed out a graceful turtle, and we followed it at a distance until it disappeared into the blue.

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Karim used the first dive to assess how I acted and was very happy the way I run my dive even though I don't have much opportunities to dive. On our second dive, Karim guided us to an area known for shark sightings. We were in their realm now, silent visitors. And then, we saw them—gray reef sharks, their sleek forms cutting through the water with an elegance that belied their power.

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It reminded me of my first dive in French Polynesia back in 2012 when I was brought down to 40m deep to see the silver tip sharks.

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In that moment, any thoughts of danger were replaced by a profound respect. These creatures were not the mindless predators the media often made them out to be. They were survivors, rulers of this liquid world.

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Back on the boat, Karim's stories flowed. He spoke of the delicate balance of the sea, the need for conservation, and how every creature played a part in the health of the oceans.

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I was trying to be positive, but I didn't see a bright future as the local population was exponentially growing and sooner or later over-fishing will end-up disturbing the delicate balance.