It takes a lot to rattle an Australian.
We have the most dangerous [insert almost anything here] in the world, yet barely bat an eyelid. Tourists step off the plane and immediately start screaming because everything here wants to kill you.
Ugh. Dropbears. Don’t even get me started …
We live amid fecund nature, red in tooth and claw, somehow at ease with the constant cacophany of parrots, the nighttime shriek of insects, and the distant baying of wolves.
Okay I made that last one up — our wolves are called dingoes, and they only eat babies and Canadians.
Too soon?
Anyway, something with less dietary restrictions that eats Australians all year round is of course our sharks, and with four attacks incidents and two fatalities very unfortunate incidents in as many days, even the locals are like WTF is going on?
Half a lifetime, ago I wrote a post entitled “How Not to get Eaten by a Shark” where I pointed out the scientifically-verified fact that we’ve had exactly zero shark-related fatalities very unfortunate incidents on dry land.
“Don’t go in the water!” I said.
“You’ll get eaten!” I said.
Did they listen? Nah bro. Instead we get one muppet after another on a stretcher missing his legs but giving you the big thumbs-up and a cheerful “She’ll be right mate! Just a flesh-wound!”
That’s a metric fucktonne of “fleshwounds” in Australia in 2025.
I don’t pretend for a moment to be an elasmobranchologist, but I can read real good, and the Australian Shark Incident Database uses instructive terminology: “bit victims legs off” — “bit victim in half” — “swam away, body in mouth” — “body not recovered” — and my favourite one “shark not seen.”
Stay out of the water. I’ll say it again, “STAY OUT OF THE WATER!”
Not that it’s much safer on land.
