First, let me say this: There are always sharks.
For now, anyway. Our executive editor has been on a big anti-finning kick lately, complaining about how the state of our oceans is declining fast. He doesn’t hold out much hope for the ongoing overall survival of the big, bitey fish, but that’s not the point.
What is the point?
As our ocean stands right now, today, it’s full of sharks. Lots of them. There are blue ones, gray ones, and great white ones. I’m not sure about your grasp of how the ocean works, but it’s not like an aquarium. There aren’t big, clear walls dividing the predators from the prey.
Which is why I laugh whenever a shark sighting—or, yes, even a shark attack—makes the news.
Based on what I’ve read about the subject, there are about 65 to 75 unprovoked shark attacks on humans in the world each year. That’s so statistically insignificant as to not exist.
Of course, three of this year’s 75-or-so attacks just happened off the coast near Vandenberg, so there might be some people suddenly itching to play the state lottery in this area.
And, to be fair, the International Shark Attack File, maintained by the Florida Museum of Natural History, noted in its 2013 report that the global number of unprovoked shark attacks has increased every decade since 1900.
Are sharks getting meaner? Developing more of a taste for humans?
Not really. It seems that the law of averages—or something like it—is at work here. The more people there are on the planet, and the more of those people go into the water, the more likely a human-shark interaction is going to occur. It’s just that sharks tend to approach such meetings with their teeth. It’s how they explore the world. Humans, on the other hand, tend to approach such meetings by screaming and flailing.
Look, a single person harmed—or even killed—by a shark is a tragedy, but it’s also incredibly uncommon.
So if these attacks are so rare, why do we hear so much about them? Because these attacks are from sharks. These fish look scary. The attacks themselves are violent, bloody, terrifying, nightmare-inducing events. The drama and overwhelming dread of the idea that there is something out there in the world that can messily eat you (only if you step into its otherworldly environment, but forget that for now) is not one that sits well with a lot of people.
That’s why I take news reports of attacks from sharks with a drop of salty seawater. I don’t bat an eyelash (actually, I don’t have any—but again, not the point) at reports of car accidents, which happen every day. Some of them are fatal. All of them are something to be concerned about. And I certainly do shake my head at the more gruesome and tragic events. I’m sure you do, too.
But ask yourself this: Are you more scared of driving across town or jumping into the water?
The Canary isn’t scared of sharks. But bobcats? Yeesh! Send comments or ideas to canary@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Oct 9-16, 2014.
