I spent decades avoiding the ocean – surfing in Indonesia helped me conquer my fear

Inspired by Homer’s epic, this series explores the journeys that changed our editors’ lives. From conquering fears in Indonesia and postpartum resets in Greece via existential epiphanies in Paris, these are modern odysseys to inspire your next adventure. Here, features writer Noo Saro-Wiwa reflects on a trip which rewired a deep-seated fear.

I have always had an overwhelming fear of the ocean – its power and depth, the creatures lurking in its gargantuan swells. It is a monster. Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai got it right when creating his famous print, The Great Wave off Kanagawa, in which he depicts the sea as a cluster of claws grasping the air with merciless intent. Watching the movie Jaws as a kid didn’t help matters either. I, along with millions of 1980s kids, was shaken to the core by Steven Spielberg’s shark horror classic.

It wasn’t until the summer after I graduated from university that I took my first dip in the sea. Standing waist-deep in the waters off Malaysia’s east coast, I freaked out when my friend emerged from beneath the surface and casually told me there were fish brushing past my legs. My aquaphobia wasn’t just psychological, though; it is rooted in a hard physical reality: I’m negatively buoyant, which means that treading water is nothing but a thrashing of sinking limbs. The only way I can stay afloat is to swim non-stop and exhaust myself, which is why I avoided the sea in my younger days, watching instead from the boat or shore as my friends cavorted like carefree otters.

I wanted to enjoy the sea as much as they did, to see the marine life so mysterious and more fascinating than outer space. And I wanted to try surfing. The concept of gliding on the crest of a wave looked beautiful and liberating – I just needed to get over my unease in water. But this aversion reflected a broader psychological issue, a fear-based procrastination that has slowed my progress in life. I often shirk from bureaucratic tasks, preferring to pay late fees rather than fill out complex forms. Despite being a professional writer, the sight of a blank page on my computer screen has me reaching for the vacuum cleaner.

The philosopher and author George Addair famously said that “everything you’ve ever wanted is sitting on the other side of fear”. He’s right. ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’ is a question I often ask rhetorically, though actually answering it forced me to think more rationally about the risks of being in the ocean. Why had I spent 20 years missing out on the beauty of the coral reefs when I could just wear a life jacket? Eventually, curiosity trumped anxiety. My first full immersions in the sea began at age 40. Swallowing my phobia, I snorkelled in Palawan in the Philippines with a friend, sticking to her side like a whale calf to its mother. It was amazing. I tried it again in Antigua, Kenya, and the Maldives, where a giant manta ray glided past me. All good, but we’re talking about calm waters. Waves still freaked me out, even small ones like the six-footer that came at me in Santa Monica, California. I rose above it by clawing on my friend’s shoulders and almost drowning her in the process.