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But wounds will wince, especially in the salt air…
Patrick White, Voss
The deep Australianism and general can-do attitude of the surf community have often suppressed its sense of danger. Drowning, ailments and collisions are worries that were long-swallowed as ‘parts of the sport’, and risks one assumes when they partake in it. Braving a Sunday session at North Narrabeen wasn’t exactly a deployment.
Sharks were one of these issues; in the back, after the other things. The threat of a shark attack was not front and centre.
However, a string of shark attacks this summer, culminating in the tragic passing of twelve-year old Nico Antic, brought the issue to the fore and led many to ask, how did we get here? Is surfing still safe?
I myself surfed even the doomed Neilson Park last August in a rogue swell, considering wave count more than water quality or shark threats.
Sharks are a natural part of any beach environment. With hundreds of species in the Australian ecosystem, some are as harmless as a wet rag. Carcharhinus leucas, or bull sharks, are not. They are one of the most ferocious and dangerous animals to come across. Bull sharks are unique in that they are euryhaline, meaning they can live in both salt and freshwater. In Sydney, bull sharks can be found in the Hawkesbury River just north of Barrenjoey Headland, and Sydney Harbour near Manly and the eastern beaches.
These geographical standpoints are important as, when there is large rainfall and storms, the water becomes polluted with debris, and overflowing rivers push these sharks out towards beaches. Dim from murky water and drifting logs, these creatures spread everywhere in that short time after a storm. This summer, all these matters culminated in an increase in sharks near our beaches and, unfortunately, more shark attacks.
Following the tragedy when Nico was attacked at Neilson Park, all Sydney beaches closed for several days. For the first time in my life, I saw all these beaches completely empty. It was surreal. The faces on the street that would sideline shark fears any other day were quickly humbled and convinced to stay out of the ocean. Out of solidarity and genuine fear, I too have stayed away. The body of water that extends into its own infinity looked more like a sea of peril.
So, what are our options?
Shark-related solutions are politically sensitive and difficult to implement. For the Labor government, committing millions to become an environmental robocop in the areas where they often lose seats, like the Northern Beaches and Eastern Suburbs, is a tough sell. Fairly, environmentalists are quick to push down ideas of policing the ocean and locking sharks out with nets and drumlines, as the ocean belongs to them. Further, it can be hard to convince non-coastal electorates that the issue relates to them. There is also the “NBN trap”, where the government could commit millions to deploy tech infrastructure that may become outdated overnight anyway. Effectively, the government does not get too many chances to strike. The iron is hot now.
The Goldilocks-like porridge bowl is too hot on deep infrastructure; the bowl is too cold on thoughts and prayers. Are there other solutions?
Smart Drumlines were deployed en masse across Sydney in 2025. These track shark movement around buoys and notify lifeguards if there is a tangible threat. If so, their alarm goes on, and herds everyone in from the water. These aren’t border walls; other untagged shark species can still swim in.
My solution is drones. UAV pilots, who are sponsored by the state government, fly drones around swimming and surfing areas, taking high-quality pictures that can detect where a shark is swimming. This prevents lifeguards from issuing false-alarms, which can deafen people to real alarms if overdone. An extension of the drone program is not invasive to ocean life at all, and gives beachgoers an added sense of security.
One early endorser has been Matt Grainger, founder and managing director of Manly Surf School, which runs surf lessons and training across the beaches. Admittedly, a few of his clients raised concerns about having surf lessons out in the same ocean as bull sharks. He, too, has adopted the drone program, having pilots continuously monitor the lessons from above. He does a check before and after as well.
A career surfer and beach local, Grainer has not seen sharks of this calibre in his life.
From all reports so far, the addition of drones does not seem to be onerous on beachgoers at all. And so far, it seems to be a viable option. Is this the new normal? Who knows.
Downstream from public safety is the newfound threat to local coastal economies. The coastal economy in Sydney adds $332 million to the New South Wales total, supporting roughly 3,500 casual and permanent employees. One hopes that this newfound (and incredibly justified) fear of the ocean does not torpedo local economies adjacent to the beach. He who is not at the beach will find it harder to buy fish and chips. A cafe culture integral to the beaches supports this type of economy, which is at direct risk due to a lack of foot traffic. Again, it is not typically at the top of a New South Wales Labor government bucket list to subsidise a largely self-sustaining economy North of the Wall. Finally, tourists marginally spend more on these local economies than locals do.
New swells will bring locals back to the water and these economies. Change responds to aspiration; seldom beachgoers may be harder to convince.
