(cover photo: Lutfil Hadi)
If there’s one thing you should know about me, it would be that I get homesick very easily. So, you can see why I initially perceived the MOE-OBS Challenge 5D4N expedition as an inhumane form of torture.
I’d heard terrible things about it from my seniors – things like carrying bags weighing 15kg to hike for several kilometers, getting severely sunburnt during a kayaking expedition that stretched for 8 hours and becoming a feast for mosquitoes over 4 nights. The picture I had in my mind made me expect to be extravagantly joyful and relieved if I returned from OBS (Outward Bound Singapore) in one piece.
Looking back, while these claims were not entirely false, there was so much more to the experience. While OBS is inherently unpleasant and certainly not a holiday, the soft skills I honed, resilience I built and friendships I fostered made my exhausting 5 days more fulfilling and memorable than I would have ever expected.
As I reminisce about the experience in its entirety, join me to see the full picture – the valuable lessons I learned, the emotional side of things and how this camp shaped me as a person, team member and leader.
Day 1: In for a Tough Time
Truth be told, being introduced to my watch members before taking the ferry to Pulau Ubin was an awkward experience.
My watch (a group of 14 students and 1 instructor) included students from RI, Greenridge Secondary, Dunman Secondary and Broadrick Secondary. As you can probably imagine, the 4 distinct cliques were quite obvious from the get-go.
Not for long, though – our instructor challenged us to get to know each other’s names, schools and CCAs within 5 minutes lest we be subjected to 20 Buddha claps as punishment.
Well, that’s one way to get our socially awkward selves to finally start talking. Maybe that’s just me, though.
Even then, I did not look forward to the camp. I stared at the Punggol Northshore HDB blocks of flats surrounding the waiting area and feared the remoteness of the OBS campsite. There was not a trace of what I could call home.
Can’t see this for the next 5 days. Photo: yours truly
After being ferried to Pulau Ubin and introduced to my watch’s store, where we dropped our bags off, we proceeded with an afternoon of introductory high elements.
We cooked dinner that night – as we did for 3 nights out of 4. Perhaps I was starving, but the modest meal of sardines, button mushrooms and rice satisfied me beyond my heart’s content.
Speaking of the meal situation, we were all given a bag of rations each to consume for all 5 days’ worth of breakfast and lunch. Consequently, the scarcity of my breakfast and lunch, which consisted of only bread, tuna and jam, made me look forward to dinner every night.
When I was content with such modest rations, I realised how much I missed having an abundance of food provided to me from dawn till dusk. The warm embrace… of home.
I missed home – that much was clear.
That night, my watch turned in at about half past ten. I turned to my instructor then for advice to manage my emotions.
The moon peeked at us from behind the clouds, casting its light over the nearby tents and campsite. Yet, I felt unspeakably lonely.
A quiet night. Photo: yours truly
My instructor made me realise, though, that it was good that I cared about my family and friends enough to be homesick when not in their company.
It was good that I cared enough to feel deeply, to miss the comfort of home and to miss my friends and family from home.
But for them, I had to press on, so that I could grow and learn. Isn’t that what they would have wanted for me anyway?
Day 2: Fears Overcome
By 5.45am, I was out of the tent and ready for an eventful day.
We spent the morning on high elements. I must admit, they are certainly not my forte.
The high elements. Photo: Lutfil Hadi
After belaying two exceptionally brave watchmates for an extremely difficult element, I finally had to drag my reluctant self to climb the easier one.
After reaching about 5 metres of altitude, the element progressed from a shaky ladder to wooden logs almost a metre apart vertically. I was ready to give up right then and there.
Sweat trickled down my forehead and my whole body – I was anxious. Yet, my climbing partner, watchmates belaying me, and instructors urged me not to give up.
They were counting on me to keep going. Just one more log…one more log.
With the help of my climbing partner’s knee and a surge of newfound determination, my borderline-frightened self managed to climb two more logs than I had initially aimed for before finally descending back to the safe haven of the ground.
Despite my fear of heights, those around me remained so supportive. Dare I say, the environment was so positive and encouraging that it felt homely.
I then realised that I was so much more capable than I perceived myself to be. I just needed that encouragement, determination to push my limits and a persevering spirit.
After lunch, my watch attended the kayak orientation programme, where we were introduced to our kayaks, the paddles and the salty seawater. Amidst our capsize drills, I was already mentally preparing myself for the huge challenge that lay ahead – that is, our 2D1N expedition.
Much to our relief, we were treated to a bento set with chicken and vegetables for dinner. Finally, proper uncanned protein! We packed our heavy expedition bags and finally got to properly recharge in the dormitory before we set off the next morning for the most intense 2 days of my life.
Day 3: Pots hang upon mine shoulders, my bones would rest…
My alarm buzzed at 5.45am, rousing my dorm section and signalling the start of the adventure. The instructors were starting to let go – to let us lead – so we had to work together.
We were playing a “hunter and prey” game with the other watches. With our navigation materials in hand, we set off to hunt the other 3 watches down around the whole Pulau Ubin to fulfill our assigned role of the Hunter.
It did not take long for us to realise, though, that the immense weight of our bags was taking a toll on some of our endurance.
The pot, 2 mess tins and multiple bags of clothes and daily essentials I was carrying in my expedition bag for my friend (who was carrying the tents) and myself took a heavy toll on my shoulders.
Asking my instructor to tighten my waist strap helped immensely, though I was still unable to catch up to my watch’s navigator (despite being one myself).
Ultimately, it was a test of our commitment to the watch. The faster members had to be understanding and slow down, while the slower ones among us had to try their hardest to keep up with the pack. Regardless, sticking together as one was the ultimate goal.
After finally succeeding in catching the 3 watches and thereby obtaining a free pass to let the other watches wash our mess tins and pots for us, we reflected on the events.
When we have a certain goal in mind, we often end up dangerously fixating on the goal so much that we aim to accomplish it by any and all means possible. Yet, this leads us to neglect what truly matters – the people who share the journey with us – ultimately weakening the strength of a large group in favour of a smaller one. By being progress-oriented rather than results-oriented and taking meticulous care of those around us to the best of our abilities, we can allow everyone’s unique needs to be well-met, and thus feel included and productive in the group.
Dinner that night was outrageously plain, but we all ate it anyway. Each meal eaten, each bout of sleep and every passing minute was one step closer to home.
Day 4: PADDLE! STEER!
My tentmates and I woke up at 3.30am for sentry duty. We were in a public campsite, so it was necessary for all watch members to take turns to patrol the area for safety purposes.
By 7.40am, we were off for the water expedition (albeit 40 minutes of people misplacing things late). Our journey’s distance was estimated to be 15km, making it a projected 7.5-hour expedition. We kayaked one round around Pulau Ubin, from the Ubin Living Lab in the south to our original campsite, OBS Camp 1 in the west via the Chek Jawa wetlands in the east.
My mobile’s kayaking route. Yellow arrow indicates commitment paddling, red circle denotes the start point and green circle denotes the end point. Map: NParks
Before my mobile (a group of 4 watches) started to head out into the sea, I sat in the drifting kayak and felt an odd sense of calm. Amidst the turmoil of people getting into their kayaks, losing things and shouting, the scene of the calm water, trees and cool morning breeze created a relaxing atmosphere.
It almost served as an invitation from nature – no matter how intense the day got, I could always find solace in its serenity after all of it was over.
Our first “commitment paddling” point was near the main Ubin Jetty. Simply put, commitment paddling is a stretch of time when both people in the kayak must paddle non-stop and at full speed in order to minimise the amount of time spent in potentially dangerous areas in the water.
Needless to say, it was extremely tiring, but shortly after the Ubin Jetty, we had to face our next commitment paddling session in the Chek Jawa wetlands.
The tides there deftly opposed our every move – we held on tightly every time a large wave arrived for fear of capsizing and could barely steer or paddle forward. The water was almost too shallow to paddle effectively and it seemed as if everything that could be against us was.
By then, my kayak and a few others were lagging behind the navigators and the rest of the mobile. Yet, our instructors persistently advised and encouraged us from their safety boats to keep paddling with maximum strength.
After paddling tirelessly for about 35 minutes, we finally crossed the wetlands and slowed down to take a breather.
The wetlands served as yet another reminder that we were more capable than we made ourselves out to be, as long as we pushed our limits.
We kayaked along the north coast of Ubin, where nature took pity on us. She blessed us with a favourable current that allowed us to partially drift to our destination while we ate our ready-to-eat meals (MREs) on the kayak.
However, we couldn’t rely solely on the current – we had to keep paddling, and so we did.
My exhaustion knew no bounds as I paddled furiously westward. My mobile then finally turned our kayaks southbound and I saw a familiar sight – Punggol Point Cove.
Punggol’s “sea view” BTO precinct, Punggol Point Cove. Photo: yours truly
It was the mainland. While everyone cheered excitedly as we were on track to complete the expedition ahead of schedule, I looked at the familiar BTO precinct on the north-eastern coast of my home island as I subconsciously paddled forward.
My arms were aching badly, but I paddled harder. Each pull, each scoop of the water brought me that much closer to home, both chronologically and geographically.
We finally reached OBS Camp 1. Photo: Lutfil Hadi
At last, we ended the kayaking expedition on the shore of OBS Camp 1. Some were tanned, others were sunburnt, but all of us were relieved. We washed the kayaks, took our bags and packed our stores as we chatted about random topics.
At time of writing, my tan line is still this obvious, and this is with multiple sunblock reapplications. Photo: yours truly
I was undoubtedly tired from all this training of my resilience, and having exposed food bags in my watch’s store ransacked by monkeys only added fuel to the fire (to my watch, 17-21 Feb Camp 1 Alpha watch Munshi, you would know).
But we were that close to the end. We had to press on.
Day 5: A Reluctant Yet Relieving Farewell
We woke up at 5.55am and ate breakfast in the store as we talked. It was then that I realised, though I wanted to go home, I wasn’t feeling as homesick anymore. I could feel, sense and see home in OBS despite not being in my house.
Didn’t expect to find homeliness in OBS. Photo: Lutfil Hadi
Home isn’t just about having a roof over your head, having good meals to eat or having a cozy bed to sleep on. To me, home is defined by those around me, the people who can make or break my day.
I’ve been through plenty of mentally and physically intense experiences in my life, and OBS is no exception. Yet, what has been proven to me time and time again is that making friends along the way who remind me that I am not alone makes any experience far more fulfilling.
I like to think of it as “finding a sense of home” in a foreign community. Humans aren’t wired for isolation – we are each other’s emotional support network. Camaraderie is powerful.
To my juniors reading this article, the best piece of advice I can offer wouldn’t be to apply lots of sunblock before kayaking, or spray plenty of mosquito repellent.
Though it is important to take these measures, I don’t want you to worry about bodily discomfort, as there is so much more to the experience than just putting your body through concentration camp.
All I hope for you, my juniors, is that you go to OBS with a heart of enthusiasm and anticipation. Don’t worry about the stifling humidity of the tents or the ruthless feasting of the sandflies – those are just temporary discomforts which will give way to the lasting permanence of newfound resilience, friendships and a heart of gratitude that will empower you in all your future endeavours.
Farewell, Camp 1. Photo: yours truly
As the ferry sailed across the waters to Punggol Point Jetty, amidst all the homesickness, a thought I would never have expected to harbour materialised in my mind:
I’ll miss OBS and all the adversities it brought – because of you, Munshi, a watch stronger than the sum of its parts, leaving an indelible mark on my heart.
