The headlines are predictable. "Terrifying." "Feeding frenzy." "Rabid."
When a video surfaced of hundreds of sharks circling a boat or a surfer, the internet did what it always does: it panicked. Media outlets treated the event like a scene from a low-budget horror flick, using loaded adjectives to trigger your primal fear of being eaten. They want you to believe you are looking at a chaotic, bloodthirsty mob. Don't miss our previous coverage on this related article.
They are wrong.
What you are actually seeing is a masterclass in biological efficiency and a sign of a thriving ecosystem. If you find yourself in the middle of a "swarm," you aren't a victim; you are a witness to one of the most orderly events in the natural world. The real danger isn't the sharks. The real danger is the ignorance that leads people to fear the very thing keeping our oceans alive. To read more about the background of this, AFAR offers an informative summary.
The Myth of the Rabid Shark
Let’s start by killing the word "rabid." Sharks are elasmobranchs; they cannot get rabies. It is a mammalian disease. Using that word in a headline isn't just a stretch; it is a flat-out lie designed to make a calculated predator look like a mindless zombie.
Sharks do not lose their minds when they eat. Even in a "feeding frenzy," there is a sophisticated social hierarchy at play. I have spent years diving with pelagic species, and I have seen what happens when the water turns to froth. It looks like chaos to the untrained eye, but it is actually a high-speed ballet.
Sharks have an array of sensory organs—specifically the ampullae of Lorenzini—that allow them to detect electromagnetic fields. This means they are more aware of the position of their peers than a group of humans walking through a crowded mall. They rarely collide. They rarely bite one another by mistake. They are surgical.
When a surfer or fisherman sees hundreds of sharks, they aren't seeing a "swarm" looking for human flesh. They are seeing a bait ball event. The sharks are focused on a concentrated biomass of fish. To a shark, a human is a bony, low-fat distraction. You aren't on the menu; you're just standing in the middle of the dining room while the buffet is being served.
Competition is Not Aggression
The media loves to frame shark numbers as an "infestation." This is a fundamental misunderstanding of marine biology. Large numbers of sharks in a single area indicate a healthy food chain.
When you see a massive gathering of Blacktips or Spinners, you are looking at intra-specific competition. It is a business transaction. The sharks are there because the energy ROI (Return on Investment) is high.
- The Lazy Consensus: More sharks equals more danger.
- The Reality: High shark density often leads to less interest in humans.
Why? Because the sharks are hyper-focused on the primary prey. When there are ten thousand sardines in the water, a shark isn't going to waste energy trying to figure out if your surfboard is edible. High-density feeding events create a "predator saturation" effect where the sheer abundance of natural prey makes human-shark interactions statistically less likely to turn into a bite.
I’ve been in the water during these migrations. The sharks aren't looking at you. They are looking past you. The moment we stop viewing ourselves as the center of the universe, we realize that we are largely irrelevant to the ocean's apex predators.
The Surfer’s Paradox
Surfers often claim to be "lucky to be alive" after these encounters. While the adrenaline is real, the narrative of a "near-miss" is usually a fantasy.
If a shark actually wanted to hit you, you wouldn't see it coming. Sharks are ambush predators. If you are sitting on your board and you see hundreds of fins circling you, you are actually in the safest possible position. They are being visible. They are announcing their presence.
The sharks you don't see—the lone Great White or Bull Shark stalking the murky break in a low-visibility area—are the ones that merit caution. A "swarm" in clear water is a spectacle, not a death sentence.
The Economic Cost of Fear
This isn't just about hurt feelings or misunderstood fish. The "terrifying swarm" narrative has real-world consequences. It drives "cull" mentalities. It leads to the installation of drum lines and shark nets that kill indiscriminately.
When we scream "frenzy" every time a natural migration occurs, we provide political cover for the destruction of marine life. We are essentially advocating for the desertification of the ocean because we're scared of the neighbors.
If you are a fisherman and you see these sharks, you should be celebrating. It means your local waters are productive. If you are a surfer, you should be grabing a GoPro. You are seeing something that most people only see on National Geographic, and you're getting it for free.
Stop Asking the Wrong Questions
People always ask: "How do we stay safe from the swarm?"
That is the wrong question. It assumes the swarm is hunting you. The right question is: "How do we preserve the conditions that allow these massive events to happen?"
The ocean is not a swimming pool. It is a wild, functioning machine. Sharks are the grease in the gears. When you remove them—or when you demonize them until the public demands their removal—the whole machine grinds to a halt. We see "mesopredator release," where smaller, more annoying species overpopulate because their bosses (the sharks) are gone.
The Hard Truth About Your Safety
Is there a risk? Of course. It's the ocean.
But let's look at the numbers. You are more likely to die from a collapsing sand hole on the beach than from a shark bite. You are more likely to die from a vending machine falling on you.
The contrarian truth is that you should seek out these "swarms." If you want to understand the planet you live on, you need to see nature at its most intense.
- Step 1: Stop splashing. Rapid, irregular movement mimics a wounded fish.
- Step 2: Keep your eyes on the animals. Predators respect other predators.
- Step 3: Realize that the "frenzy" is a professional operation.
If you can’t handle the sight of a shark doing its job, stay out of the water. The ocean doesn't owe you a sanitized experience. It doesn't owe you safety. It offers you a glimpse into a world that has functioned perfectly for 400 million years without your input.
The next time you see a viral video of a "terrifying shark swarm," look past the clickbait. Look at the water. Look at the life. And realize that the only thing "rabid" in the scenario is the media's desperate need for your fear.
Nature isn't scary. It's just busy. Get over yourself.
