In a shocking turn of events that has sent ripples through the sun-drenched, selfie-saturated shores of Sydney, a British tourist has been grievously assaulted by a creature whose dental plan is substantially more imposing than her own. The attack, which occurred at a beach whose name has been redacted to protect the tourism board, has left the woman in a serious condition and the British Foreign Office scrambling to update their travel advice.
One can only imagine the poor soul, no doubt lulled into a false sense of security by the gentle lapping of the waves and the distant strains of a didgeridoo playing a remix of 'Land Down Under', suddenly finding herself in a screaming, thrashing, shrieking cameo role in a nature documentary. The shark, a creature of pure, unthinking appetite, presumably saw a flailing, pink, sunburned figure and thought, 'Ah, the buffet is open.'
Now, the British Foreign Office has issued a warning. A warning. As if the prospect of being turned into a canapé for a fish with a bad attitude isn't enough to deter a determined budget traveller. They advise tourists to 'be aware of their surroundings' and 'avoid swimming at dawn and dusk.' Excellent advice, really. Next they'll be telling us to avoid swimming in a sea made of knives and broken glass.
But let's not forget the real story here. The story of a woman, her holiday, her hopes, and her dreams, all dashed on the rocks of a biological fact that fish are, and always have been, bastards. This is not a call to cull sharks, for without them, the ocean would become a terrifyingly balanced ecosystem. No, this is a call to arms against the sheer, unadulterated hubris of a government that thinks a 'safety warning' is a substitute for, oh, I don't know, a net? A submarine? A Phalanx CIWS system mounted on the beach?
In the end, this is a story about the absurdity of our existence. We holiday in places where we might die, we trust in warnings that do not warn, and we stare into the steely, dead eyes of a creature that has been perfecting its murder techniques for 400 million years and think, 'I'll be fine.'
So raise a glass of gin, dear reader. To the woman in the hospital. To the shark, who is presumably now being hounded by a Daily Mail photographer. And to the government, whose idea of protection is a laminated leaflet. Cheers.
