CHAPTERS on Facing your fears
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If you’ve read my article about Baz Lurhmann’s Sunscreen Song you’ll know that I take the lyrical advice in it quite seriously. However the line, ‘do one thing every day that scares you’, has never been part of my personal mantra. I prefer to be, well, not scared. Certainly not on the daily. However, after a chance encounter with one of my biggest fears, I think I might have found a new understanding.
Against all of my better judgment I was on a snorkelling safari in the middle of the ocean, no beach to race back to, just a small wooden boat in the distance. Open water makes me feel, at best, unnerved. I wasn’t even sure which ocean I was in. All that mattered is that it was home to sharks. And who isn’t scared of sharks??
The Indonesian snorkelling guide had already made me and another woman on the excursion take off our jewellery, in case a barracuda tried to mug us. She looked like Pocahontas with incredible long black hair down to her hips. We’d met her and her husband the day before on the seaplane we’d taken to get to the island. To me, landing on the sea is a lot less scary than swimming in it. Even though the pilot seemed utterly mind blown that that’s exactly what he was doing. There was no door concealing the cockpit from the passengers, he just turned to talk over his right shoulder, bellowing over the noise of the propellors, ‘let’s do this crazy thing!’ Then, when we landed on water as planned, he seemed surprised shouting, ‘we did it again!?’ and fist pumping the air. Still, I’ll take being in the air with a quirky pilot over submerging in water any day.
But here I am, flippers on, mask tightened, jumping overboard and immersing myself in deep waters and fear. Pocahontas had transformed into Ariel now, swimming past me like a cartoon mermaid come to life. Whereas I was more of a frog waiting to grow into its webbed feet and potentially needing the kiss of life. I put my face into the sea to discover an array of colourful, patterned shoals of tiny fish now surrounding us.
Two turtles swam by below. I followed one for a while, watching in awe at its green- brown shell gliding through the water, its reptilian arms flapping like the wings of a bird in flight. I realised I’d relaxed and let my guard down, so I immediately imagined a shark emerging from the deep indigo water in the distance, stalking me unnoticed as I was distracted by this cute turtle. A sure way to sharpen the senses.
Next we spotted a shoal of parrot fish, their scales a vivid green-blue. A few of them pooed out trails of sand as they sped away from us and I felt reassured that I wasn’t the only one shitting themselves here.
One of my favourite sightings was a trumpet fish. It had a thin, elongated body with a horn shape nose, hence the name. I'd say the trumpetfish has been underrated. They must have missed the casting calls for Blue Planet. Unlike the stingrays we saw. Those guys seem to have a much bigger publicity team behind them.
When the guides signalled it was time to go back to the boat I was first to climb on board. I was happy we hadn’t bumped into a shark and felt proud to have faced my open water fears, quietly vowing to never to do it again. The problem with that vow is the conflicting one I made to marry a man who loves exploring the ocean. So while this wouldn’t be my last snorkelling adventure, I did politely decline the suggestion of night snorkelling. He would have to go on that excursion alone, which he did.
I sat in the bar that evening waiting, and praying, that he wouldn’t be eaten by a shark for dinner. This was our honeymoon after all and that would be a real downer. Happily he came back unscathed, or so we thought, until the next morning when James woke up feeling ill. He said he was itchy, really itchy and before my very eyes clusters of small, angry lumps started appearing all over his neck, then down his arms and backs of his legs faster than I could count. When his face started reddening and swelling up I plied him with anti-histamine and called for a doctor. Her first question was, ‘have you been swimming in the sea?” She told us it was ‘plankton season’ and contact with these microscopic organisms had caused an allergic reaction. “This is why humans don’t belong in the ocean.” I said. Surely there’s a reason we aren’t built to breathe in water? Never mind the sharks with their hundreds of knife-like teeth, now there are invisible plankton out to get us too?! That seems unfair. The doctor gave him an injection and miraculously the hives went down as quickly as they had come up.
A few days later we kayaked to the North side of the island. When we set off I had zero intention of leaving the safety of my plastic boat but after 45 minutes of paddling in 33 degree heat, the idea of cooling off in the water became more appealing. What were the chances we’d see sharks anyway? We didn’t last time and we were in there for a whole hour. This would only be a quick dip. And surely the plankton thing wouldn’t happen again? They probably only come out a night, right?
In we went, paddling out until the colder, deeper water welcomed us to a huge, beautiful reef with corals of pinks, blues, oranges and yellows. Some wide and flat like lily pads, some rocky and layered, interwoven and sloping down an underwater hillside. Bigger fish this time, like humpheads, trigger fish, regal angel fish, a squid pushing itself forward with its tentacles. Then James squeezed my arm and pulled me around, pointing towards… a shark. Then another and another. Three black tip reef sharks, each around three foot long, circled us a couple of times as we tread water watching them, watching us. They were equal parts elegant and terrifying. I was equal parts awe-struck and ready to swim, Olympic speed, back to the beach.
If you’re into deep-sea diving then this sort of sighting is probably small fry to you. No, these sharks aren’t huge Great Whites or Bull Sharks with an appetite for humans. But a shark is a shark in my book, with their sleek muscular physique, gills that look like sliced open flesh and pointed razor edged fins. They were unlike anything I’d ever seen outside of an aquarium. We squeezed each others shrivelled hands, not making a sound. That’s the other thing I hate about being submerged in water, there’s no chatting. It’s all hand signals, none of which I can ever remember. Casually throwing a thumbs up to say I’m okay when that is the underwater signal for going up. Who’s bright idea was that?
As we paddled our kayaks back, I sat in disbelief that we’d just swam with three sharks. But, what I really couldn’t wrap my head around was that, the experience was so unlike the one in my nightmares. I had felt exhilarated. This wasn’t the feeling I’d expected to have after being confronted with my aquatic nemesis. Where were the screams, ‘SHARKKKK!’ ‘HELPPPP!’? Where were the frantic heart palpitations, the trembling, the tears?! Where was the JAWS theme music? You know the one, duh-duh duh-duh. Not one, not two but three sharks swam close enough to look me in the eye and I had been calm, sure I was frozen still, but I was calm.
While I may not transform into a mermaid, venture into night snorkelling or do one thing every day that scares me. I will never forget seeing sharks in the open water for the lesson it taught me.
When you are confronted with something that scares you, if you are brave enough to face those fears, you might just surprise yourself… and live to tell the tale.
As for the plankton, pack anti-histamines.
What an extraordinary journey - underwater, and the life encountered. And, profoundly, to swim facing fears and being buoyant to the wonder of surprise too!