TV One's Piha Rescue must be the most riling 30 minutes on the box.
If you believe the folklore surrounding lemmings, this is as close our species comes to mimicking their behaviour.
Week after week in self-inflicted irritation I watch skilled lifesavers live up to their title and prevent scores of Darwin deaths.
I'm not sure what amazes me more: the sheer volume of hapless sinkers, or the patience of the tireless rescue folk who look like farmers plucking sodden ewes from a sheep-dip trough.
So I'm being a little uncharitable. No doubt there are unforeseen tidal anomalies set to trap the most cautious bather.
Yet surely the majority of those rescued at Piha are au fait with its brutal reputation.
Maybe that's the rub.
The paradox of a heavy lifeguard presence is its enabling effect. The ubiquitous livery of red and gold rescuers emboldens water-goers to push the envelope; an inflatable rescue boat is a mere 60 seconds away.
During an interview in 2008 an experienced Waimarama Beach lifeguard told me swimmers pack up and leave the beach the moment his crew does.
Hence the issue of whether to invest further money for an increased presence at Waipatiki Beach is a vexing one.
If there's a lesson in the endless Piha rescues, it's that our love of the ocean is rivalled only by our lack of respect for it.
The best way we can shore-up public safety is to heighten this respect - not to fork out for another stretch of safety net. By that rationale we'd have a red and gold presence along all 14,000 kilometres of this country's coastline.
The difficulty is discerning whether public money would be saving us from the sea or ourselves.