The trip of a lifetime: ten days of beautiful chaos in siargao

At one point during this retreat, I was fully convinced someone had planted a grenade inside my cheekbone… Turns out, it was my first-ever dental squeeze, AKA dental barotrauma. And honestly? That pretty much sums up my ten days in Siargao.

Beautiful. Wild. Slightly unhinged. Character-building.

So grab your fins as we deep-dive into my trip recap, while I book in an appointment with my dentist.

The ‘YES’ That started it all

Last February, my good friend Tegan, founder of Saltwandering, ocean conservationist, yoga and surf instructor, avid freediver and all-round ocean weapon, messaged me.

“I’ve saved you the last spot on my Philippines women’s ocean retreat”. I ignored my bank balance, which wasn’t going to be too happy with my elite and spontaneous decision-making, and quickly replied “COUNT ME IN”. I just locked in what would become one of the best ‘yes’ decisions of my life.

Ten days of surfing, freediving, island hopping, yoga, side quests and a group of strangers who very quickly became something far more dangerous: friends for life with shared trauma bonds…

Where Even is siargao?

For those unfamiliar, Siargao is a tear-drop-shaped island in the Philippines known as the country’s Surfing Capital. Think: glassy turquoise water, coconut palm forests that look photoshopped, sunsets that make you reconsider city life, and line-ups of frothing worldwide surfers. It’s raw. It’s magnetic. It smells faintly of sunscreen, reef cuts, and ocean ambition. In other words? The perfect place to test yourself and fall in love with island living.

MAOMAO surf & the dream setup

We stayed at MaoMao surf; jungle vibes, unreal coffee, private pool, owners who were the coolest people I have met. It became home within the hours of dropping off my suitcase.

The retreat package? Absolutely stacked:

• 4 days of surfing with private coaches
• Drone analysis (aka public humiliation with educational benefits)
• Intro freediving course
• Island hopping adventures
• Daily yoga, breathwork & journaling
• Wakeboarding at the waterpark (more on all of this shortly…)

My personal goal for the trip? Say yes to EVERYTHING! Extra tour? Yes. Wakeboarding? Absolutely. Questionable cave entry led by a man counting backwards in a language I don’t speak? Yes go on then, why not?

It’s all gone wrong (our official motto)

Somewhere around day four, ‘it’s all gone wrong’ became our catchphrase.

Missed bookings, slight miscommunications, plans that absolutely did not plan. I mean, on our first day we took a taxi to a boat, then another boat, then another boat, all before we realised oh this isn’t the tour we booked. No one really questioned it. We were handed industrial headphones (necessary, we later realised, to preserve our eardrums from the boat engines) and just… went with it.

Our first stop: a jellyfish lagoon. Rio and I surfaced after swimming through tonnes of sting-free jellyfish to the rest of the girls, holding hands, spinning in a circle. At the same time, a Filipino tour guide yelled, “SPIN FASTER!” and delivered aggressive compliments. Surreal. Wholesome. Mildly cult-like.

Then came the cave…

Our guide gathered us at the entrance, grinned, counted down from three, and before I knew what was going on, he pushed me by the neck underwater and into a dark cave system.

Three, two, one, chaos. I surfaced half-laughing, half-offended and fully confused, buzzing with adrenaline. “It’s all gone wrong!” someone screamed. And we all lost it and burst into full, uncontrollable belly laughs. After that, we cliff-jumped, the only way to get back to the boat. With slight hesitation, one by one we jumped off the cliff we had ascended in complete darkness, wearing the goofiest helmets, which were 10 sizes too big and actually provided 0 protection. In classic Phoebe Sharp fashion, I thought no better way than to jump off the cliff in style, doing a front flip. Unfortunately, my bikini wasn’t as good at protecting my modesty and now, somewhere a Filipino tour guide has a video of us all showing more than we bargained for…

Surf: Humbling, healing & heavy

I hadn’t surfed properly in over a year. Before that? Chronically beginner with commitment issues with waves. I think I had surfed a total of 3 times since being in Australia, terrible effort from me, I know.

The first paddle out humbled me immediately, and after about 10 minutes, I did not hesitate to say yes when my surf coach insisted on pulling me the rest of the way to the line-up; complete princess treatment, blissfully unaware of how this surf session was going to go.

The first day of surfing was just getting used to being back on a board, no wipe-outs, but certainly no world-class surfing either. It mainly consisted of us all complaining that our arms hurt and our instructors being disappointed with our lack of skills. Despite telling them we are all beginners to surfing, they expected us to be on par with Kelly Slater and shredding from day one.

Things picked up swell-wise for the remaining 3 days. We woke up, biked to the boats, and hopped off into a big wave swell and a relatively crowded line-up full of experienced locals. The breaks were bigger than we girls expected, but we all said yes and got ready for a couple of hours of fighting for our lives. There’s something deeply exposing about sitting on a board staring at a moving wall of water. The ocean doesn’t care how confident you look on land. You either commit or get rinsed. I committed to the point that my surf coach realised I was all in and started pushing me onto bigger waves, as I needed more of a rush!

After a couple of shocking sessions we would all rather forget, we were lucky enough to get drone analysis which was equal parts brutal, humorous and humbling. Imagine your tragic wipe-out projected on a TV while everyone, instructors included, replay it in slow motion again and again and again. My left-hand turns? Absolutely Criminal. But between the laughter were real lessons. Tiny adjustments. Micro-improvements.

By day three, something shifted. My shoulders felt stronger, my pop-up faster, and my mind quieter. Maybe it was the right and break and me finally able to show Edrian, my coach, I can actually turn sometimes. It wasn’t just surviving the surf, I was moving with it and I constantly had a huge grin on my face while doing so.

Surfing highlights:

• Laura’s surf instructor constantly rotating between a couple of one liners: “Laura stop crying”, “Laura stop talking” “Laura where are you? I miss you Laura” and “Come to papa Laura”
• Eboney’s instructor went missing at Stumpys after being taken by a huge set and disappearing for a solid 7 minutes to come back laughing, saying he lost his board and couldn’t swim.
• All of us, one by one, nearly dying after getting caught in the break zone at Stumpys.
• Edrian and I just having a chin wag out in the line up and then a massive wave coming and taking me backwards into the danger zone with my coach just screaming Phoebe!!

Honestly, there were far too many amazing moments. We were so lucky to have such a fun group of instructors who pushed us out of our comfort zones and always made me laugh. I really fell in love with surfing again this trip and I am dying to get back on a board.

Freediving; The mirror (and the explosion)

If surfing tested my body, freediving tested my nervous system. Going in, I thought my problem would be my lung capacity. I was adamant that I could only hold my breath for 20 seconds, shocking effort from someone who lives and breathes the ocean and as a child could swim laps and laps of the pool all underwater with one singular breath. Spoiler alert… the problem wasn’t my lungs but my teeth?!

Underwater, you can’t fake calm. You either relax… or your body calls you out immediately. Mid-descent on one of our first line dives, I felt it. A sharp, expanding pressure inside my right back tooth, then my cheekbone. It was a sensation I could only describe as a small internal detonation. I surfaced clutching my face, screaming “It’s all gone wrong”. The diagnosis: dental squeeze. Trapped air in a tooth reacting to pressure change. I have heard of the term, during my PADI Divemaster training but had never known anyone, including myself to experience this problem.

I was not the only one to be suffering during our first free diving experience. A handful of the girls got incredibly sea sick, due to the pretty hefty swell and rough conditions. We all returned back to shore looking somewhat defeated but still laughing at all the problems we just experienced.

Freediving held up a mirror I didn’t expect and taught me so much about my mind and body. I don’t have a lung capacity problem. I have a relaxation problem. And that realisation? That applied far beyond 10 metres.

I am so keen to retry freediving and completing my wave 1 certification, after I go see a dentist and learn some relaxation tricks.

Wakeboarding: The beautiful plot twist

As if surfing and cave chaos weren’t enough, I decided to try wakeboarding for the first time. No idea what I was doing, mild confidence (I have been snowboarding, its basically the same thing, right?) and strong delusion. But this year, I promised myself I would lean into new ocean sports instead of hiding inside the ones I already know.

So, I held on, stood up, wobbled and rode the wave! After a couple of laps of riding and fumbling the right way to turn based on my goofy foot stance I landed an Ollie. We were all shocked. I came back to the starting ramp and the instructor was like oh you can do tricks. I quickly replied errm no not at all, I just thought I would jump and see if I could land. He laughed and then insisted on me taking his personal board for my last lap and see what else I could do. I landed 2 more Ollies and came back with a huge smile on my face.

Something clicked that afternoon. Maybe it was momentum, maybe it was the hype squad of the girls back on the dock or maybe it was finally backing myself before I had proof. Whatever it was, wakeboarding just entered my personality and my hobby list is about to grow and become significantly more expensive.

Yoga, sisterhood & the rave next door

Between the adrenaline, there was softness. Island hopping, reef exploring, salty hair and sun kissed skin.

Daily yoga and breathwork cracked us open and reset our bodies and minds. One yoga session stood out to me. We rolled out our mats after a big surf session and started our relaxation and gentle yoga flow, all while the hostel next door was having a full-blown rave. Eyes closed, deep breathing and bass vibrating through our mats. We were practising achieving inner peace to a techno soundtrack. The most juxtaposed combination made us all break into deep belly laughter, and we began bobbing to the beat. None of us to control ourselves and it was the funniest yoga session to date.

What siargao actually gave me

We said “it’s all gone wrong” when the surf was heavy, my tooth nearly detonated, we got shoved into caves, and our bookings disappeared into thin air. But in every wrong turn, there was growth. Stronger paddles, calmer breath holds, braver jumps, new skills and deeper friendships.

Siargao gave me waves, reef cuts and temporary jaw trauma. But it also gave me a new perspective. Growth rarely feels graceful. Sometimes it feels like panic underwater, like wobbling before the breakthrough, like missing the booking entirely only to find something better instead. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, it feels like landing three ollies and realising you are far more capable than you thought.

I grew so much this trip, fell in love with so many new hobbies, exposed myself, made friendships forever, and got an ADHD diagnosis, thanks to Jess! I would not change a thing about our trip away, and I can’t wait for more ocean adventures.

This wasn’t just a retreat. It was salty therapy, it was sisterhood and it was courage in motion.

And if it’s all gone wrong?

You might be exactly where you’re meant to be.

Bring on Lombok 2026!

Special shout out to Tegan, ocean inspiration, chaos coordinator, and founder of Saltwandering, for creating something that stretched us in all the best ways.

Love always,

P x