John Hopkins

That is not a whale.

Nan hangs in the water, heart thudding inside her ribs, staring in horror at the 18-foot predator streaking towards her.

Turns out the danger Nan thought she was dealing with isn't the real danger at all.

Highly territorial and extremely aggressive, tiger sharks are among the most feared species in the ocean.

This one is in attack mode, fins down, body arched, and it has Nan in its sights.

Still, despite the immense danger, she again manages to keep her composure.

Capable of reaching speeds of up to 20 miles an hour, there is no way Nan is going to out swim a tiger shark.

But that doesn't mean she isn't going to try.

She turns.

But just as she's about to start frantically paddling in the direction of the boat, something massive comes up underneath her.

It's the whale.

Just like before, the whale carefully positions Nan on the curve of his head and keeps her balanced there as he swims away from the shark.

Except now there is something different about the whale's demeanor.

His movements change.

There is a greater urgency.

Nan can't see the shark.

It's hard to know where it now is.

All she can say is that the whale no longer seems to pose any danger.

Quite the opposite.

The reason for that seems too far-fetched to be true.