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Despite record drownings and decades of the same “swim between the flags” message, it’s clear Australia needs a new approach to coastal safety — one that reflects how people really experience the ocean and empowers them with the knowledge to stay safe.
By Andre Slade – Owner, Ocean Swims
Surf Life Saving Australia’s National Coastal Safety Report 2025 landed this week — and the numbers hit hard.
154 people drowned along our coast last year, the highest toll on record, making up almost half of all drowning deaths nationwide. Every single one occurred outside the red and yellow flags, patrol times, or at unpatrolled beaches.
The patterns are depressingly familiar:
Older Australians are still most at risk, men still dominate the statistics, and rip currents — our number one coastal hazard — continue to claim lives at an alarming rate. Swimming and wading remain the deadliest activities. Public holidays, long weekends, and summer months are again the danger zones.
If you’ve been reading these reports for the past decade, it’s hard not to feel a sense of déjà vu. The same data, the same commentary, the same message. And while awareness is high, the results clearly show we’re not shifting behaviour or outcomes.
For years, the cornerstone of Australian beach safety has been the “swim between the flags” message — simple, powerful, and deeply ingrained. It has saved countless lives and remains vital for visitors, tourists, and the inexperienced.
But here’s the uncomfortable truth: that message alone will never work.
Australia has 11,000 beaches and 36,000 kilometres of coastline. They can’t — and won’t — ever be patrolled 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Yet the dominant message from Surf Life Saving remains to “only swim between the flags.” We know that’s not realistic. People will always swim outside patrol hours, at unpatrolled beaches, and in locations where surf clubs don’t exist.
Today’s coastal culture is changing. People are seeking freedom, adventure, and connection with nature. They’re surfing, diving, fishing, paddling, swimming laps across bays, exploring hidden coves, and heading to unpatrolled beaches at sunrise. They’re drawn to the raw, unfiltered experience of the ocean — not to the idea of being told where and how to enjoy it.
If we continue to build our safety strategy on a message that only applies to a fraction of our coastline — and a mindset that no longer matches how people live — we’ll continue to see the same outcomes year after year.
Apart from extending patrol hours and patrolling more beaches — which would require massive, unsustainable funding — we have to focus on how people can be safer when they do swim outside the flags.
That means teaching skills, not just issuing warnings. It means investing in education, not just more rescue boards. And it means acknowledging that risk can’t be eliminated — it has to be understood.
Funding more equipment at surf club level won’t shift the needle on national drowning rates. Another rescue board on the beach doesn’t prevent a drowning 10 kilometres down the coast.
As a long-time surf lifesaver myself, I see it every weekend: a dozen volunteers on patrol at one beach, while professional lifeguards elsewhere manage the same stretch with one or two skilled operators. If coverage is truly the goal, wouldn’t it make more sense to upskill, professionalise, and extend patrol hours — rather than maintain a century-old model of large volunteer patrols doing short stints?
There’s also an untapped opportunity in rethinking when patrols happen. Most drownings occur outside traditional patrol hours, particularly in the late afternoon and early evening when people head to the beach after work. Some volunteer members might actually prefer an evening shift — say, 6 to 9 pm — rather than a full weekend day. That kind of flexible rostering could dramatically increase real-world coverage without demanding more people or more funding.
The patrol system itself has barely evolved in 100 years, since the reel and line were retired. It’s time to reimagine what lifesaving looks like in the modern era — to focus less on maintaining tradition and more on outcomes that actually save lives.
We need to move from awareness to understanding. From risk avoidance to risk literacy.
And here’s part of the problem: Surf Life Saving, as an organisation, has become too risk-averse to offer the public practical guidance that could genuinely make a difference. Likely in fear of litigation or backlash, the messaging has become conservative, cautious, and deliberately vague.
By trying to keep themselves safe, they may actually be keeping the public uninformed.
Instead of investing energy in finding new ways to say “don’t swim there,” we should be investing in research to discover what messages, skills, and education could actually shift behaviour. Because right now, the public is left with little more than generalised warnings — and no useful advice for what to do when they inevitably find themselves outside the flags.
SLS rarely publishes any public guidance on how to swim safely at unpatrolled beaches — despite knowing that’s where almost every coastal drowning occurs. The closest we’ve come are limited messages like “float to survive,” or the once-contentious “swim parallel to the beach” advice for escaping rips — both of which, while well-intentioned, barely scratch the surface of what’s needed.
If we want to change outcomes, we need to stop worrying about what might come back to bite us, and start asking what’s really costing lives.
As ocean swimmers, we already live this mindset. We read the water, adapt to conditions, and respect the sea’s moods. We know the feel of a rip underfoot and the calm of a lull between sets. We understand that safety isn’t about control — it’s about awareness and preparation.
This gives our community a unique role to play. Every one of us can be an ambassador for ocean literacy — sharing knowledge at the beach, mentoring beginners, encouraging safer habits in social swim groups, and helping friends and family build confidence in open water.
We don’t have to wait for campaigns or committees to make change. We can model it, live it, and pass it on.
At the same time, it’s time for Surf Life Saving and other coastal safety leaders to evolve their approach. The passion and commitment within the movement is unquestionable — but passion alone won’t move the needle if the strategy doesn’t adapt.
We need innovation, courage, and collaboration that extends beyond the patrol tower. That might mean rethinking how we deploy lifesavers, blending professional and volunteer services, and empowering the community with genuine education. It might mean developing new communication tools, digital alerts, or open-water learning programs that reflect how people actually use the coast today.
Because after a decade of repeating the same headlines and watching the numbers climb, it’s clear that what we’re doing isn’t working.
Australia’s connection to the sea is deep, emotional, and defining. But if we want to preserve that relationship — and make it safer — we have to evolve the way we talk about it.
We owe it to the 154 people who never made it home last year to try something new.
The tide isn’t turning — not yet. But with imagination, education, and leadership that reflects the reality of modern coastal life, it could.
Feature image caption: Wattamolla Beach, Royal National Park — a stunning yet unpatrolled coastal spot where people seek nature, freedom, and adventure. It’s a reminder that while the ocean invites exploration, safety messaging must evolve to meet how Australians really experience the coast.
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