PACIFIC GROVE — The day after the body of shark-attack victim Erica Fox was discovered along the Davenport shoreline some 25 miles from here, her husband, dozens of Kelp Krawlers swim club members and friends formed a solemn procession along the Lovers Point bluffs here, mirroring her final mile-long swim.
“She didn’t want to live in fear,” said her husband, Jean-Francois Vanreusel, who was swimming a hundred yards behind her along with 13 other club members last Sunday when a shark breached the surface and his wife of 30 years vanished below. “She lived her life fully.”
Every day since, Vanreusel returned to the Pacific Grove promontory overlooking the sea, communing with friends, hoping for a sign of his 55-year-old wife.
On Saturday afternoon, a full week after Fox disappeared, he received a call from local law enforcement, confirming the identity of the body discovered just beyond the northern tip of Monterey Bay. She was still clad in her black and blue wetsuit, Vanreusel said, her white Garmin watch and a “shark band” still attached to her ankle. The band is an electromagnetic device meant to ward off the ambush predator that ended her life.
Her death marks the second shark attack fatality at Lovers Point in 73 years. The first claimed a 17-year-old boy who was swimming here on Dec. 7, 1952.
The tragedy has forced yet another reckoning for the Kelp Krawlers, many of whom made the decision to resume their weekly Lovers Point swims even after fellow club member Steve Bruemmer was pulled into the jaws of a great white in June 2022, surviving with severe leg injuries. After Bruemmer’s brush with death, many of the swimmers had taken to wearing the same kind of electromagnetic “Sharkbanz” that Fox wore last Sunday, even though most swimmers knew they would do little to deter a high-speed attack from below.
”Will people get back in the ocean? Will they get back in the ocean, but not here?” asked Sharen Carey, who has been swimming with the Kelp Krawlers for more than a decade. “I don’t think anyone knows at the moment, because I think we’re all just still in shock, disbelief and grief, not knowing what we need to do next, except to love and support each other.”
Bruemmer, who pledged never to swim in the ocean again, used walking sticks to join the procession Sunday. Also joining was David Stickler, who, two months after Bruemmer’s attack and in nearly the same place, was knocked off his paddleboard along with his dog when a shark surged from beneath and bit into his board. In this close-knit community, Fox was one of Stickler’s yoga students.
Experts maintain that shark attacks are exceedingly rare — more rare than being struck by lightning or mauled by a bear. But the shark attacks on two swim club members in 3½ years, in the same place, seem to belie the practical wisdom that dared many swimmers to return to the ocean. Although December may be a prime feeding month for white sharks here when they bulk up on seals and sea lions, Bruemmer was attacked in June.
“The concept was that they didn’t feed on humans,” said Pete Albers, who joined a Sunday procession. “We swam over them for years and years. But that bravado may be gone now.”
Sunday morning dawned with clear skies, some of the first since wind-driven Christmas storms pelted the Monterey Peninsula, causing power outages and churning the sea. Children played on the beach of Lovers Point cove, dipping their toes into the gentle water lapping the shore, unaware of the terror eight days earlier that struck 150 yards off the rocky point.
In the parking lot above, Kelp Krawlers arrived at 11 a.m., like they did every Sunday for their “toes in” at 11:30 a.m. swim. This time, they wore no wetsuits and brought no towels. Instead, they carried flowers and picnic baskets to share stories and celebrate the life of a woman they considered an inspiration.
Fox, who worked at Elroy’s Fine Foods market in Monterey, was fiercely competitive. She ran her first 10K running race at the age of 7, her father, Jim Fox, said. Her house is filled with numerous triathlon medals, including those from the famed Escape From Alcatraz triathlon in San Francisco.
“She was completely understated, humble. She made really hard things look easy,” said Michelle Polkabla, a massage therapist who treated Fox regularly and joined the Sunday gathering. “She knew the risks, but she just was a beast — so adorable and little, but all muscle.”
After the procession along the shoreline, the group reassembled in the parking lot.
Vanreusel, who didn’t witness the attack on his wife like two people on shore did, said she taught him how to swim, and he, too, came to love the ocean waters.
“The only comfort I find is that every Sunday, Erica was excited to go in the water,” he said, “and she passed in the place she loved.”
Bruemmer spoke next.
He told the rapt crowd what he had told Fox’s husband a few days before as he waited for news.
“I was also bitten by a shark,” Bruemmer said, “and I can tell you that it doesn’t hurt. I don’t understand why, but it’s not physically painful to be badly bitten. So I believe that in her final moments, Erica was not suffering in pain. And I hope that that can be of some comfort to people.”
He paused and steadied himself on his walking sticks.
“There are also lessons, things we know that we’re reminded of in moments like this,” he said, “and one is that tomorrow is not guaranteed.”