The Call of the Deep
If we have a passionate fear—that stimulating kind of fear—it can be the door to more freedom.
I’m not here to tell you that every fear should be confronted. We need to use our discernment to understand which ones are meant to be faced and which ones are not. Some fears just feel right to push through. And this is how my spearfishing journey begins…
I’ve always been a seeker of adventure, especially when it comes to connecting with nature in a profound and intimate way. If I have fears in nature, I’ll most likely make an effort to break through them. My soul, without a doubt, is always searching for freedom.
My fiancé, Daniel, is an amazing spearfisher. He always told me he wanted me to experience it with him, but I was hesitant. Let’s be real—it was way out of my comfort zone.
One day, I told him I would commit to trying it at least once. So, he took me to a fishing shop in Portimão, Algarve, called Penguin Sub Shop. Maria, the owner, greeted us with such an interesting attitude—friendly, yet with that strong Portuguese personality.
We looked at different wetsuits, searching for one with at least 4 or 5mm thickness to handle the crazy cold waters of Portugal.
Once I fully committed and invested in all the equipment needed just to try this activity, I knew I had signed some kind of contract with myself—and with the ocean.
The first time I went spearfishing was at a secret spot I call The Ancient Crate—a place of wild, ancient energy, layers of rock sediments, and a king’s throne sculpted by water over millions of years. It was the perfect place to baptize my rookie attempts at freediving,
working on my posture and breath-hold under the surface. We entered the water, fully geared up. At first, I judged the equipment—so much of it just to feel comfortable in the water. But the moment I slid in, I felt it: the buoyancy, the warmth, the perfect fit.
That day, the sea was silky and calm, a rare phenomenon of that area according to Dani and TJ.
TJ dove first. Dani, always patient, stayed with me while I got used to the water. I swam behind him, watching his first freedive as he suddenly spotted a majestic octopus. And in a matter of seconds—
BOOM.
He launched his spear at the alien-like creature. I was in shock. I started praying and crying at the same time, just from witnessing the raw act of death—the sacred cycle of life and death. I could feel the energy diffusing from the octopus, dissolving into the ocean, into us. It was a fleeting yet eternal moment—a pure, reverential exchange.
At that moment, I knew I had to make a choice: Is this for me or not?
My heart was racing, my mind expanding. The rush of new experiences was rewiring my brain in real-time.
I kept watching the way my beloved Dani moved—the way he interacted with the ocean, the life beneath it. It was absolutely perfect yet complicated. Something inside me knew: I wanted to keep challenging myself. I wanted to keep refining my diving posture and my breath-holds. Then, I had this intense realization—I was connected. To God. To Life. To the raw, real essence of existence. Nothing felt more real than this—the primal state of being human. Hunting with reverence. Gathering with awareness. Becoming one with the creature whose life had just been taken.
My first spearfishing experience became an unexpected adventure—facing discomfort, witnessing the sacred transactions of life and death, and understanding, in a way I never had before, what life is truly about.
And off I went—still a rookie, but with a burning passion to deepen this relationship. A new relationship with fragility and exposure to the ocean, just to be a little closer to Creation one more time… To be continued…