Shark Attack Thailand (How I Found My Solo Travelling Feet)

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

For a lot of people a trip to Thailand would be something they would relish – the full moon parties, the new friends, the crazy extreme experiences, the drinking, the exploring. The stories I could recount when I become old and boring could have been endless.

For me Thailand was never going to be like this. I am someone more sociable people would describe as ‘socially awkward.’ I like people but I struggle to become part of the group, I’m not good at small talk and it takes people a while to warm to me. I appreciate real friendships, interactions and moments.

Perhaps I am a bit awkward. Sociable people seem to think this is something that needs to be fixed, that I need to make more of an effort to fit in, that I could try harder. This attitude does not help one's confidence and mine was about to be tested.

I had gone to Thailand with Josh – not so much a friend, but someone I had worked with over the summer. We shared an abstract sense of humour while throwing Cornish pasties at customers in our summer job. He was in the local rugby team, mad for it (whatever 'it' would be – he was mad for it) and I liked reading, thinking and dreaming.

A week into our trip – on the paradise Island of Koh Tao – Josh told me he was going to spend the rest of his travels with his new friends from the scuba diving course he had been attending.

I had sensed pretty early on that I wasn’t being interesting enough for Josh to accept me as me in his new found social group. I had started the week trying to fit in and taking part in their wild nights out. As the days went by I began to realise I wasn’t being me and I could not carry on like this. I started to sit on the sidelines – doing my own thing – but it felt clear that somehow this wasn’t enough.

All I asked was that the one person I had come with would let me be myself but I guess this wasn’t possible. Josh had new travelling friends to impress.

And so I was left to find my own way.

FEAR

Being on an island where everyone seemed to be making friends – and having just been dumped by the only person I knew for not being interesting enough – I felt the pressure of trying to fit in. So I decided to face my fear of group excursions and of being eaten by sharks – I booked myself on a snorkeling day trip round the Island. ‘Fuck it,’ I said to myself.

An hour into the trip half of the boat fell seasick and literally abandoned ship, leaving a less intimidating group of day trippers. It was my kind of trip already.

I participated in small talk with the remaining day trippers before we moored up in a bay to do some underwater exploring. I did not feel particularly connected to anyone and did definitely not feel able to broach pairing up with anyone as that would involve a pretense of familiarity. My patience with trying to fit in was wearing thin. I faked an independent spirit, put on my snorkel and jumped into the water leaving my flippers behind. Who needs flippers I thought to myself – I have feet!

THE DEEP BLUE SEA

We would be seeing no sharks at this bay – the skipper had told us – just lovely fish. I didn’t look which way other people were swimming and I didn’t really care. It was time for me to head off in my own direction and explore.

Going off and doing my own thing was going to be a theme of the rest of my travels. The further I swam away from the feeling I had to be making friends, having ‘mad for it’ experiences or bonding with people I didn’t really like – the closer I came to liking myself and  enjoying being alone.

Over my next week on the island I would discover second hand book shops, bike hire, small wonderful conversations with strangers and sitting on the curb eating alone watching the world go by. The joys of exploring the Island by bike to discover new beautiful places to read a book were endless. Stopping at little cafés or roadside food stalls – having a chat before heading off into the day – these moments were gentle yet made me very happy.

BLOOD AND GUTS

I had been swimming longer than I thought – daydreaming and following the colourful shoals of fish as they darted around me. I saw a huge rock rising up from the ocean floor. I thought it would be a good place to stop and rest my feet while I got my bearings. When I looked I appeared to be 100 or so metres from the boat.

I felt a sudden pain as I moved on the rock for a better grip. The rock was covered in coral and it sliced through my foot. I looked down to see my blood clouding the water.

The bleeding seemed to ease as quickly as it had begun. So I put my head underwater to carry on looking for fish.

SHARK!

EAT ME

There, in the distance, I could see the shark. It appeared to be circling and getting closer. The only thing I could think to do was to not take my eyes off it.

It stopped about six meters away from me and looked at me.

This shark was big. It must have been about two meters long, dark grey on top, fading to a lighter grey underneath. It had the build of a shark that eats people – wide and nasty looking. Its dark eyes were fixed on me. I am no expert but I reasoned it could do some damage. After all I was perched on a rock, submerged up to my knees – bleeding.

It was big enough to try and eat me – I know I’ve seen Jaws, Shark in Venice and every other shark movie (later, after studying extensive photos of all the shark species found in Thailand, I have come to the conclusion that it was a bull shark, probably. And yes – these have been known to eat people)!

And I knew what it was thinking: ‘is the smell of blood the sign of a meal?’

One of the disadvantages of not being social enough to have already made ‘excursion friends’ – is that I had no-one I could shout to for some advice or to laugh with about my situation. I was on my own. I pictured the drama Josh would have caused – bleeding the incident for all it was worth and becoming the hero of the week.

This was make or break for me. I could stay on the rock and scream for help or I could take this independent travelling thing seriously and swim for it.

So that is what I did. Never has a swim seemed so lonely or so long. The further I got into the deep ocean between the rock and the boat – the more I began to doubt my wonderfully informed plan.

I got back on the boat expecting my foot to be eaten just as I lifted it out the water. It wasn’t. I sighed.

I decided to share my trauma with the first person I saw.

“I saw a shark,” I told the boat's skipper, with a degree of obvious relief.

“Impossible – they don’t come here!” he replied, visibly angry that I had questioned the safety of his trip.

I rolled my eyes to no-one in particular and took my seat on the boat. For now I decided to keep what happened between the shark and mem to myself.

LETTING GO

My remaining week on the island was a solitary one. At first, of course, I had felt lonely. Everywhere I looked were groups of people having crazy fun and interacting. They made it look so normal.

But once I removed myself from the places that made me feel alone – the bars, the ‘mad for it’ groups of people and the restaurants – I started to feel more comfortable in myself. The interactions I had with people were short but genuine.

By the time I got to Bangkok, I was finding my feet as a solitary traveler. I found a tiny café run by two quirky women. When I went for my morning coffee they would tell me places they thought I would like to go: the flower market, the park where everyone jogs round in the same direction, a bike tour… I would check in the following day to recount my day and get more tips.

I booked myself on a day bike tour of the suburbs of Bangkok. When I arrived I discovered it was just me being taken on a tour by a Thai woman called Nok. No-one else had signed up. I welcomed the chance to spend the day with just one person. We hit it off and shared moments of reflection as we cycled along rural tracks, next to waterways and explored banana plantations. We got to know about each other’s lives as we were intermittently laughed at by passing locals for being on a bike ride on such a hot day.

Sitting outside a remote overgrown Buddhist temple, I decided to share something I’d kept bottled up all week:

“I was snorkeling last week and I saw a big shark. I cut my foot and it came up close to investigate.”

“Sounds scary.”

“Yes it was kind of. But I don’t feel scared of them anymore.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t try to eat you then.”

The gentle connection we had on that one day felt as strong as some of the friendships I have taken years to build.

HOLIDAY SNAPS

Josh had a very different traveling experience to me. He had some amazing adventures, which involved getting drunk, making lots of Facebook friends, flirting with ladyboys and partying on a beach in the full moon. He loved every minute. If I had stayed with him, faked fitting in and become the person his group wanted me to be – I’d have felt lonely as hell.

For a ‘socially awkward’ person like me travelling is difficult. There will be fewer group moments. There will be fewer friends. There will be fewer mad stories to tell when you get home. But I suspect the quality brief moments that are life affirming will be just as plentiful.

I’m glad I did it my way. It was not easy. Finding your own way never is.

Plus: I saw a fucking shark.