A rescue helicopter at Tawharanui Regional Park after a person drowned at the beach. Photo / Supplied
A rescue helicopter at Tawharanui Regional Park after a person drowned at the beach. Photo / Supplied
Opinion
EDITORIAL
The joyous sounds of the beach can so swiftly turn to shouts of concern and then to cries of anguish.
New Zealand has one of the higher drowning rates (1.5 per 100,000 for 2020) in the OECD, almost twice that of Australia. The Auckland fatal drowning rate for 2020is 0.9 per 100,000.
Provisional numbers show 93 people drowned in New Zealand water in 2022. Nine people drowned during the official holiday period. Water Safety NZ chief executive Daniel Gerrard this week told RNZ the provisional number of 93 drownings is a “national disaster”.
Yesterday, we heard from a traumatised close friend of a pair who drowned at Piha on Saturday. The two were described by family at the beach as “non-swimmers” and they’d chosen to swim in one of the most dangerous spots on the beach.
Who wouldn’t feel also for United North Piha Surf Lifesaving Club president Robert Ferguson and his hardworking crews, who had packed up for the day when the pair decided to swim?
“We save hundreds of people every year from drowning and we prevent thousands from swimming in silly places. To lose a couple like that is heart-wrenching.”
The drownings at Piha followed two deaths the day before and another occurred on Sunday.
It is too soon to say whether all these incidents are “drownings” or may have been medical events that occurred in the water, leading to death. However, it is already clear that too many treat our waterways as recreational playgrounds rather than hazardous environments where we are the fish out of water.
Illustration / Guy Body
With two long weekends coming up for Anniversary Day in Auckland and Northland, as well as Waitangi Day on February 6, there will be more looking to the waterways for fun and relaxation. One saving grace may be the weather forecasts that predict some regions will have flood-threatening subtropical downpours and thunderstorms.
But we cannot expect the weather to put people off taking unnecessary risks in the water.
Each tragic drowning brings renewed calls to swim between the flags, or as Robert Ferguson said: “If there are no flags then don’t swim”.
Some point to the removal of school pools over recent decades as a factor in our terrible toll.
Yes, schools without pools should align with local swimming facilities to encourage tamariki to have lessons, no child in New Zealand should be unable to survive in the environment that surrounds us.
Every child should be able to identify a rip before taking the plunge.
More education should be concentrated on water safety messages, particularly to new arrivals to Aotearoa; more resourcing should go into surf lifesaving clubs and facilities; more patrols should extend hours; and more support should be given to schools to include swimming into the curricula.
But, ultimately, everyone needs to treat our open waterways as hostile territories where survival is threatened, even for proficient swimmers. Respect the water and obey the warning signs.
Let’s leave the crying at the beaches to the seagulls.
