By Nicola van Laar
It was the wettest spring in 38 years. The downpours in Sydney came in torrents that turned streets into overflowing drains, flooding under the bus doors and stranding smaller cars.
The harbour and coastline became murky, setting off a devastating chain of events. The rivers drained to the harbour and the beaches. The runoff carried nutrients, which drew the fish. The tropical sharks were already in Sydney for the summer.
People along the coast went looking for relief from the heat and humidity. Surfers waxed their boards, parents set up cabanas on the sand, kids jumped off rocks, all chasing the cooling balm of the saltwater.
The change in the conditions – the heat, the rain, the silt, the prey, and the weekend timing – meant the risk of interactions with sharks in the water increased.
Joseph Welling, “Joey” to his friends, is a sensible 21-year-old. He studies engineering and plans his surfs with his mates. On the morning of October 4, 2025, he checks the Surfline app on his phone before getting out of bed. The conditions look good on the Northern Beaches, so he texts the surf group chat and they decide on Curl Curl Beach.
He prefers morning classes and surfs in the afternoons when the UV drops. He won’t surf at dawn or dusk. He pulls into the car park just after lunch, sits for a few minutes, checks for flags, watches the sets and looks for rips, birds or disturbances on the water.
All looks good, so he pulls on his wetsuit, zips it up and rubs sunscreen across his face. With his board under his arm, he heads down to find his mates.
Reassuringly, there are already surfers in the water. Sharks are less likely to approach groups and there’s safety in numbers. He paddles out 50 metres from shore, turns, and straddles his board. Waiting for the perfect wave is a form of meditation for him, forcing him to live in the moment.
A jet ski engine cuts through the peace and a lifeguard pulls up alongside, close enough that Welling can see the seriousness of his expression.
“Have you seen any body parts in the water?” he asks quickly.
“Uh, no,” Welling responds.
The lifeguard moves on to ask the next group. Welling feels uneasy but stays out another half an hour, reasoning that the beach has not been closed, and the lifeguard did not tell them to get out of the water.
Later that night, the news reports that Mercury Psillakis was killed one beach over at Long Reef, by a great white shark. He texts the group chat the chilling news.
A few months later, on a wet Wednesday evening, more than 200 people pack into Mosman Library like sardines for a shark talk. There is a buzz of low conversation as locals await answers about the recent shark attacks.
On stage sits a panel of three: a marine scientist, a neurobiologist, an ecologist and the moderator Brett Fenton, who admits he watched Jaws aged eight and suffered nightmares as a result.
Marine scientist Dr Amy Smoothey begins with the geography of Sydney Harbour.
It’s not just a tourist destination, it’s a marine ecosystem of 55 square kilometres of inlets, channels, and drop-offs. With an average depth of 15m, but with pockets plunging to 47m, the deep drop-offs are natural hunting zones for sharks.
Smoothey then discusses the shark species.
Of the larger, aggressive sharks in NSW – whites, tigers, and bulls – it is the bulls that are active inshore as well. They have adapted to tolerate both salt and freshwater, moving up the Parramatta and Lane Cove Rivers.
Pregnant bulls use these brackish river systems as nurseries. The young remain in the rivers for years before heading north for the winter. Which means that Sydney’s waters are not just migration stops, they are breeding grounds.
Shark numbers are hard to estimate but Smoothey does not think there has been an increase. The Department of Primary Industry’s tagging programs tracks the larger individuals, which depends on what they catch, or what is caught on the drum lines. Shark detection depends on the proximity of the tagged sharks to the underwater listening stations, which then send an alert to the SharkSmart app.
However, as Joel Nancarrow of Hunter Shark Jaw Restorations on Facebook pointed out in a recent social media post: “DPI research tagger Amy: Just because you are not capable of catching sharks, it doesn’t mean there aren’t any there.” Shots fired.
Next, Professor Rob Harcourt speaks about environmental changes.
With climate change the water temperatures are rising and bulls and tiger sharks prefer warmer water over 19ºC. The sharks are arriving earlier, staying longer, and extending their range further south into Victorian waters. At the same time, more people are entering the water over the past 30 years.
Professor Nathan Hart speaks about the shark’s biology.
Shark vision is limited. They are colour blind, have low resolution and only see in shades of grey. A surfer on a board in a wetsuit can look like a seal or a sea lion to a white shark below.
Sharks rely on their other senses; hearing, smell, electrical and magnetic signals. Splashing gives off vibrations. Blood can be smelt in the water. Living things give off electrical energy.
Someone in the audience interrupts Hart: “What about Shark Banz?”
“Shark Banz don’t work. Their magnets are too weak,” Hart said.
Now based on the Sapphire Coast in Bermagui, Jason “Trappy” grew up in Botany Bay in Sydney. He left high school part-way through Year Nine – he already knew he wanted to be a second-generation commercial fisherman.
Trappy spends about 200 days per year on the water. He has watched it change over the decades, and the number of sharks grow.
“It’s nearly June and the water’s still 22 degrees down here,” Trappy said.
Sending his drone up, he now sees large bulls and bronze whalers cruising close to beaches, and the occasional great white.
He no longer targets sharks anymore.
“The tigers and great whites eat our smaller catches. Cannibalism is in their evolution. Grey nurse and mako eat each other while still in the womb,” Trappy said.
He tells a story about a mako shark that they hooked of about 400kg. They were only able to reel the 98kg head in.
He has been dwarfed in his 6.8m boat by a large female great white shark circling him at The Beacon. “It looked girthed out, like a round VW, with fins.”
He has stopped spearfishing altogether. “I’ve seen too much.”
“Shark attacks are as rare as rocking horse s…, but you can do things to minimise your risk. Sharks get confident and aggressive in dim light and dirty water,” Trappy said.
Joel Nancarrow warned in a May Facebook social media post: “Just like in January, we have had a lot of rain the last week, making conditions perfect for the bull sharks to travel north. The next week is a real danger period along the beaches.”
Statistically, shark encounters remain rare, but conditions matter. Shark safety is about minimising risk and reading the environment.
Featured image: Joel Nancarrow with his catch of a female bull shark. Photo: Hunter Shark Jaw Restoration
