I can feel the water lapping at my neck, each wave sending a spray of water into my face. My eyes, nose and mouth burn with every assault of salty drips. My feet are kicking beneath me, tying to propel my head higher above the waves.

I can’t see a thing from this angle, the waves creating a mini wall around me. The thought that I can’t see past the waves and what lays beyond them is terrifying. The fact that I can’t see BENEATH the waves has me paralysed with fear. Now that my brain is set on that train of thought, there is nothing else I can think of.

I imagine a great white shark, lazily swimming towards my kicking legs, sensing my fear, knowing I’m prey. It circles me, out of range of the swirling waves, checking out its surroundings, not sensing anything else nearby and knowing that I am alone. It’s in no rush, there is no threat to it. It turns away, swims for a few metres before turning back. With one fast flick of its mighty tail, it darts forward, straight towards my legs.

I can almost feel the weight of its powerful jaws, closing around my thighs, crushing the muscle and bones. It tosses me this way and that, trying to rip off a piece — STOP THAT! I tell myself, my heart absolutely pounding through my chest. If there WAS a shark nearby, it would certainly sense the frenzied heartbeat of a prey animal.

Stop it, stop it. You’re fine, there’s nothing there, I say, in an attempt to calm myself. Breathe normally, breathe slowly, I tell myself. It’s a little difficult with the constant spraying my face but I manage to slow my breathing, slow my heart rate. I can feel myself relaxing a little, ready to face the situation logically. Calmer, calmer, no worries, breath, you’ve got th— Something brushes my leg.