By Andre Slade – Owner, Ocean Swims

Drones make people feel safer.

They also make us think about sharks more often.

That is the paradox at the heart of the Ocean Swims Shark Sentiment Survey 2026.

Of the 344 ocean swimmers who responded, more than 70 per cent said shark surveillance drones made them feel safer, and more than three-quarters supported expanding their use. At the same time, almost 74 per cent said they now thought about sharks more often.

On the surface, those results seem contradictory. Surely if something makes us feel safer, we should think less about the thing we’re being protected from.

But perhaps that’s too simplistic.

One respondent summed it up better than any survey table could.

“The drones are reassuring, but I am still a bit scared. I am an ocean swimmer.”

That final sentence stayed with me.

I am an ocean swimmer.

It wasn’t written by someone looking at the ocean from the shoreline, or someone forming an opinion from a news bulletin or social media video. It came from someone who willingly enters the water, understands sharks are part of that environment, and is trying to make sense of what all this new information means.

I think that’s important, because one of the strongest messages to emerge from this survey is that ocean swimmers are perfectly capable of holding several ideas at once.

We can support drones while still questioning how shark sightings are communicated.

We can appreciate that someone is watching over us while also recognising that constant surveillance inevitably keeps sharks in our thoughts.

We can accept that the ocean has always carried an element of uncertainty while quietly changing the way we choose to swim in it.

None of those positions are mutually exclusive.

In fact, they probably describe where many of us now find ourselves.

We’re adapting, not abandoning

When I first started thinking about this survey, one of the questions I kept coming back to was whether the recent summer of shark incidents had fundamentally changed people’s relationship with the ocean.

The answer appears to be yes.

Just not in the way I expected.

More than half of respondents said they were swimming about as often as they had before the recent shark incidents. At the same time, almost half said they were swimming less or had stopped altogether. More than one in five were swimming much less, while around six per cent had stopped ocean swimming entirely.

Those numbers initially caught my attention.

But the statistic I kept returning to was another one.

Almost 80 per cent of respondents said they had decided not to swim at least once because of a shark sighting, drone alert or recent media coverage.

Half had done so once or twice.

Almost 30 per cent said it had happened many times.

That doesn’t feel like a community turning its back on the ocean.

It feels like a community adapting to it.

Reading through hundreds of comments, the adjustments became obvious.

People described choosing shorter swims, staying closer to shore, swimming in larger groups, avoiding certain beaches for a while, waiting a few extra days after an incident or simply deciding that, on some mornings, the pool felt like the better option.

One respondent wrote:

“In case of a recent shark incident nearby we swim closer to shore and do shorter swims.”

Another explained they had stopped entering ocean swim events and no longer swam between Manly and Shelly Beach following the recent Sydney incidents. They still swam recreationally at the beach, but they had become more conscious of how far they were from shore.

That distinction is important.

Most weren’t describing a fear of the ocean itself.

They were describing a change in how they interacted with it.

The survey wasn’t designed to measure every behavioural adjustment people have made, and in hindsight that’s something we can improve next year. But the comments paint a remarkably consistent picture. Ocean swimmers are still swimming. Many are simply making different decisions about when, where and how they do it.

The incidents matter more than we thought

One of the biggest surprises came when we asked what had actually shaped people’s perception of shark risk.

Before seeing the results, I expected drones, shark alerts, media coverage and social media to dominate the conversation.

Instead, respondents pointed overwhelmingly to the shark incidents themselves.

More than two-thirds selected shark incidents as one of the biggest influences on how they now perceive shark risk. News media, personal experience and scientific information followed well behind, while drone footage and social media ranked much lower than I anticipated.

The same pattern appeared again when we asked what had most changed people’s relationship with the ocean.

Once again, shark incidents sat comfortably at the top.

That’s an important finding.

It doesn’t prove that surveillance, media coverage or social media don’t influence how people think. Human psychology is rarely that simple, and we’re not always aware of every factor shaping our perceptions. These influences almost certainly interact with one another.

But the survey does challenge the increasingly common suggestion that drones or media coverage are primarily responsible for changing the way ocean swimmers feel.

When asked directly, swimmers themselves pointed first to the incidents.

That shouldn’t be overlooked.

Reassurance comes with a reminder

Support for shark surveillance drones was overwhelming, but respondents also showed strong support for other approaches, including tagged-shark listening stations, shark behaviour research, personal deterrent research and SMART drumlines.

If anything, the survey suggests the community isn’t searching for one silver bullet. It supports a combination of surveillance, research and mitigation.

Yet support doesn’t necessarily mean surveillance feels emotionally neutral.

One respondent described finding themselves looking up during swims to see whether a drone was overhead. If it was there, they actually felt more anxious. At the same time, they also said they would absolutely want to know if a shark was nearby.

The word they used was conflicted.

I suspect that feeling extends well beyond a single respondent.

Perhaps that’s simply the price of greater visibility.

We can value early warning while acknowledging that every drone overhead reminds us why it’s there.

We can appreciate having more information without wanting every sighting turned into another dramatic social media clip.

Feeling reassured and feeling reminded aren’t opposite emotions.

For many ocean swimmers, they now exist side by side.

The salty dogs

One group stood out throughout the survey.

Respondents who currently swim five or more times each week were significantly less likely to reduce their participation than everyone else. Only 19 per cent reported swimming less, compared with around half of every other swimming-frequency group.

They were also the group most likely to feel there was now too much shark messaging.

Almost half considered the current level excessive.

The survey can’t tell us exactly why.

It didn’t measure swimming experience or knowledge of shark behaviour, and it’s worth remembering these groups were based on current swimming frequency. Someone who once swam five mornings a week but now swims only once or twice would appear in a different category.

Even so, the pattern is interesting.

The people spending the most time in the ocean were the least likely to reduce their swimming and the most likely to believe shark messaging had become excessive.

Perhaps that’s because they’re accustomed to living with uncertainty.

Experienced ocean swimmers understand the ocean has never been risk free. They assess conditions, make sensible decisions and accept that absolute certainty has never been part of the experience.

That doesn’t mean they dismiss shark risk.

It may simply mean they don’t believe it deserves to dominate every conversation about entering the water.

A community finding its balance

More than half of respondents described their relationship with the ocean as more cautious or anxious than it was five years ago.

That finding deserves to be taken seriously.

But it should also be read alongside one of my favourite comments from the survey.

“Most times I swim and always enjoy it, even if I have sharks on my mind.”

I suspect that sentence captures where many ocean swimmers now find themselves.

The ocean hasn’t lost its appeal.

The freedom is still there.

The joy is still there.

But another thought often comes with us.

When I wrote Be Careful What You Wish For six months ago, I wondered whether putting more eyes in the sky might also put more sharks into our heads.

This survey suggests that question was worth asking.

Yes, more people are thinking about sharks than they were before.

But the story is more nuanced than that.

The incidents themselves appear to have had the greatest influence. Drones are largely making people feel safer, even if they also serve as a reminder of what lies beneath. Behaviour is changing, but complete withdrawal from the ocean remains relatively uncommon.

Perhaps that’s the most encouraging finding of all.

This doesn’t feel like a community retreating from the ocean.

It feels like a community doing what ocean swimmers have always done.

Assessing the conditions.

Adjusting to changing circumstances.

Accepting that uncertainty is part of the experience.

And then, when the time feels right, swimming anyway.