What everyone gets wrong about the deadliest shark attack in history

National Geographic

7 hours ago

HISTORY & CULTURE
SHARKFEST
The sinking of the U.S.S. Indianapolis is widely known as a shark story—but the truth is much more horrifying. The U.S.S. Indianapolis at port in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, circa 1937. The sinking of the warship is considered one of the worst tragedies in U.S. Naval history: 879 men lost their lives while the survivors suffered for four days and five nights until they were rescued. Photograph By Navy History and Heritage Command
"The shark comes to the nearest man and that man he'd start poundin' and hollerin' and screamin' and sometimes the shark go away. Sometimes he wouldn't go away."
Robert Shaw's iconic monologue as shark hunter Quint in Jaws captured the horror of the day 80 years ago when sharks descended on the crew of the U.S.S. Indianapolis after the vessel was sunk by Japanese torpedoes during World War II. Thanks to the fame of the movie, that speech propelled the worst shark attack in history into public lore.
(Martha's Vineyard locals reflect on the legacy of 'Jaws' 50 years later.)
But his speech had some critical errors. Many retellings focus on the sharks mercilessly picking off the survivors, but the terror of that day in July 1945 was 'much more than just a shark story,' says Lynn Vincent, author of Indianapolis.
It's a story of hundreds of men—some just 17 years old—who set off a great adventure and changed the face of history before experiencing unimaginable horrors, adds her co-author Sara Vladic. The sinking of the U.S.S. Indianapolis is considered one of the worst tragedies in U.S. Naval history.
What really happened? This is the true story of the disaster of the Indianapolis. The U.S.S. Indianapolis sets sail on a top-secret mission The U.S.S. Tranquility lands in Guam carrying the survivors of the U.S.S. Indianapolis. Only 316 of the 1,195 crew members aboard the ship survived after being torpedoed by a Japanese submarine. Photograph By National Archives The U.S.S. Indianapolis was hit by torpedoes just after it had completed a top-secret mission: delivering components of the atomic bomb that the U.S. would later use on Hiroshima during World War II. Photograph By National Archives
The Indianapolis—affectionately known as the Indy—was already well-known by the time she met her gruesome demise. She had 10 battle stars and was President Franklin D. Roosevelt's ship of state.
In March 1945, a few months earlier, the Indianapolis had been hit by a Japanese suicide pilot, or kamikaze, in Okinawa and was sent back to California for repairs.
'The Japanese plane not only hit her, but sent a bomb through her, literally through her,' says Paridon. 'It exploded underneath her keel.'
By the time she was mended, the U.S. Navy needed a ship to transport components of the atomic bomb destined for Hiroshima to Tinian, a U.S.-controlled island south of Japan.
'That's why she's available… because she had taken that hit,' says Paridon. 'It's a twist of fate, really it is.'
(Wreckage of WWII-era warship U.S.S. Indianapolis found after 72 years.)
The Indy was loaded up with the priceless cargo and set out on her crucial journey on July 16. The mission was 'uber, uber, uber secret,' says Paridon. 'The sailors on board that ship had no earthly [idea] what they were carrying.
Capt. Charles Butler McVay had an inkling. He was told 'every day you save on your transit is one less day we're gonna have to fight this war,' says Paridon.
After racing to Tinian under radio silence, the Indy delivered the bomb on July 26 and the top-secret mission was over. But her hardships were about to begin. The U.S.S. Indianapolis at New York City about a decade before it was sunk by a Japanese submarine. The maritime disaster was made famous by Captain Quint's monologue in the movie Jaws. In terms of lives lost, it was the U.S. Navy's second worst catastrophe in history, trailing only the attack on Pearl Harbor. Photograph By Naval History and Heritage Command
The U.S.S. Indianapolis was leaving Guam in the early hours of July 30 when a Japanese submarine spotted the ship glinting in the moonlight.
Commander Mochitsura Hashimoto ordered his crew to fire and two torpedoes struck the ship. 'These are big kabooms, to put it very, very bluntly,' says Paridon.
That was the first catastrophe. Many men were 'there one minute, literally gone the next,' he says. Others were hit by shrapnel and burned by hot metal as they tried to escape.
The Indy sank in just 12 minutes.
Those who found themselves in the water—concussed, burned, wounded, and covered in oil from the wreckage—were about to face a nightmare lasting five nights and four days. Joseph A. Jacouemot and Richard P. Thelen, two survivors of the U.S.S. Indianpolis, are shown in a hospital in the Philippines shortly after their rescue in August 1945. Hundreds of men struggled for five days to survive dehydration, hypothermia, shark attacks, and madness while floating in the South Pacific. Photograph By National Archives
Likely attracted by the commotion and bodies in the water, sharks—likely oceanic whitetips and tiger sharks—started to arrive soon after the ship sank.
Stories tell of over 150 men being killed by sharks in a feeding frenzy. But even though we don't know exact figures, the event is acknowledged as the worst shark attack in history. For context, the total number of unprovoked shark bites globally in all of 2024 was just 47.
It's believed the sharks largely fed on corpses and the dying. 'Did they eat some of the corpses? Absolutely. Did they bite some of the survivors? For sure,' says Seth Paridon, a historian and deputy director of the Mississippi Armed Forces Museum. 'But it wasn't to the degree that the myth makes it out to be.'
(How to stay safe if you do find yourself swimming with sharks.)
Some barely saw shark activity. In an oral history conducted by the Naval History and Heritage Command, senior medical officer Capt. Lewis Haynes 'saw only one shark' and didn't see anyone get bitten. McVay recalls merely 'getting a little annoyed' with the shark following his group because it was scaring away the fish that could have provided food. Spending days in the water with circling sharks was just one of countless horrors the men experienced.
'The human story is really what is missed amid all the focus on the sharks,' says Vladic, who spent a decade interviewing 107 of the surviving crew and their families. 'The survivors themselves don't appreciate the focus on the sharks, because there were a lot more men died of many more things.'
The men had no food or fresh water and were exposed to the burning sun. Some died of their wounds from the explosion while others succumbed to exposure, exhaustion, thirst, violence, and even suicide.
Desperately thirsty, some drank seawater, which caused salt poisoning and mass hallucinations.
'It was amazing how everyone would see the same thing,' said Haynes, who recounted in an oral history how a group of men all thought they saw a nearby island where they could get some sleep. 'Even I fought hallucinations off and on, but something always brought me back.'
(Sharks aren't really mindless killers. So why are we so afraid of them?)
Perhaps the most heartbreaking delusion was that the Indy was just under the surface. Some men tried to reach the galley to find food, 'and they would swim off down to their deaths,' says Vladic. A chance rescue
In Jaws, Quint tells Chief Brody and Matt Hooper that the mission was 'so secret, no distress signal had been sent.' This is one of the speech's key errors. 'The mission was long over,' says Vincent. They had no more need for secrecy.
The problem was that the distress signals weren't processed properly. No one was searching for survivors. Survivors of U.S.S. Indianapolis being brought ashore from U.S.S. Tranquility at Guam, on August 8, 1945. In this photograph, they are being placed in ambulances for immediate transfer to local hospitals. Photograph By PhoM1/c J.G. Mull., National Archives A landing craft takes a number of injured survivors ashore for hospitalization at Peleliu, an island in the Palau archipelago in Micronesia. The wreckage of the U.S.S. Indianapolis was discovered by chance—their distress signals hadn't been processed properly. Photograph By National Archives
Lt. Wilbur Gwinn discovered them by chance during a routine air patrol on the morning of August 2. While fixing a broken antenna on his plane, he happened to look down and spot oil and flotsam in the water.
At first, he thought it was an enemy submarine. Then he saw men floating in small groups and sent a message calling for help.
In response, Lt. Adrian Marks was sent to help in an amphibious aircraft. Realizing that rescue ships were hours away, he performed an open sea landing—which are against naval regulations because they are so dangerous—and tried to get as many men out of the water and into the plane as possible. He even tied some onto the wings of his plane with parachute cord.
Just after midnight on August 3, rescue ships arrived and the men were finally safe.
Of the 1,195 men aboard the Indianapolis, 879 lost their lives. Just 316 survived. The final victim of the Indianapolis
The Indy had one more victim. Despite the overwhelming support of his surviving crew, Captain McVay was court martialed by the U.S. Navy for negligence in December 1945.
Naval vessels are supposed to zigzag in 'submarine-infested waters' to make it harder for torpedoes to hit them, says Paridon, but McVay hadn't done so—because, it turns out, he hadn't been told there were submarines nearby. Admiral Raymond A. Spruance, commander of the Fifth Fleet, pins a Purple Heart on Clarence E. McElroy, a survivor of the U.S.S. Indianapolis. Many of the men who survived the disaster never spoke of the trauma they experienced. Photograph By National Archives
Hashimoto was even called to testify. He said that nothing McVay did, including zigzagging, would have stopped him sinking that ship, but the captain was still found guilty.
The verdict wasn't overturned until 1996. 'The survivors fought for 50 years to have their captain exonerated,' says Vincent.
However, McVay, who took his own life on November 6, 1968, didn't live to see his pardon. 'That's the ultimate, final tragedy,' says Paridon. The legacy of the U.S.S. Indianapolis
Many survivors never spoke of their trauma. 'They rarely talked about it to anyone, including their families,' says Vladic. 'There are quite a few cases where the children of survivors found out their dad was on the ship after watching Jaws.'
The movie brought the ship's story into public awareness but the Indy's real legacy isn't her sinking, or the sharks, but her role in changing the course of World War II.
'These guys accomplished their mission, and they fought together to survive,' says Paridon.
Just one living survivor remains: 98-year-old Harold Bray. But, says Vladic, the crew's families are determined 'to keep the story alive long after the last survivor is gone.' Jaws @ 50: The Definitive Inside Story premieres on National Geographic starting July 10 and streams on Disney+ and Hulu starting July 11. Check local listings.