I was an asthmatic, obese kid, and though the hacking and coughing has subsided with age, the blubber being trimmed by my time at gym, I still am a person who stays put and doesn't explore a lot.

I have one story to tell, though my memory of it is quite muddled, as I was around six or seven. My family used to go to this island an hour's boat ride from the coast of Singapore, called Bin Tan. Azure skies, lush green vegetation, fine white sand beneath my feet (though in reality this image may have been romanticized by little-me). I was asthmatic, so I couldn't really run around much, but activities in water were okay for my knees, so I really looked forward to the trip; when I put my head down I could sometimes see little pale silver fish dart back and forth in the clear seawater. I never was allowed to swim too far away from shore, of course, and I was always fearful of deep waters because there's just no way to know what's underneath you in the wide expanse of brine, but I always wanted to see a biiiig fish, one bigger than I was at the time, which was frankly quite impossible. So after a few days of swimming alone the shore and only seeing those tiny silverfishes, I just kept walking along the beach, half submurged hoping for something new. I remember cutting my foot on the rocks, but after the initial stinging it didn't quite hurt anymore so I assumed there only wad a bruise, and kept going. Then I saw something what I had hoped for.

It was a massive fish, I have no idea what type but its size definitely wow-ed me. I was wondering why it was in such shallow waters when I realized that its entrails were hanging out from its side, and it'd dead for a while. I quickly got out the water, heart pounding, foot started aching and saw the blood from the cut, and hobbled back to my parents and siblings.

Not quite the epic adventure, but I sincerely don't regret getting out of the water after that spectacle.