Real Survival Stories - The ‘Aussie Mermaid’: Adrift in the Philippines

Episode Date: November 7, 2024

A mother and daughter relax into ten days of luxury on a tropical island. But fate has other plans. A day trip gone wrong leaves Michelle Hamilton alone in a small canoe, drifting out to sea. Over three terrifying days she’ll come face to face with punishing weather and apex predators. And her own beliefs will be profoundly changed… A Noiser production, written by Emily Webb. For ad-free listening, bonus material and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Click the Noiser+ banner to get started. Or, if you’re on Spotify or Android, go to noiser.com/subscriptions If you have an amazing survival story of your own that you’d like to put forward for the show, let us know. Drop us an email at [e-mail] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

TD Direct Investing offers live support, so whether you're a newbie or a seasoned pro, you can make your investing steps count. And if you're like me and think a TFSA stands for Total Fund Savings Adventure, maybe reach out to TD Direct Investing. It's Friday, March the 10th, 1989, and the sun is setting over the Sulu Sea in the southwestern Philippines. The waters here plunge to over 20,000 feet in places, and beneath the surface, the vast chasm fizzes with activity. Hammerheads slice through the water, passing devil rays and schools of fish. Tiger sharks flash briefly, as the last beams of fragmented light catch their giant fins. And as the sun disappears beyond the horizon, the scene is consumed by a heavy, impenetrable blackness. Bobbing on the dark ocean surface, Michelle Hamilton looks down into the inky gloom.

Her blonde hair is plastered to her head by salty water. Waves cover her exhausted limbs. Her breathing quickens. The void below pulses with unseen threats. I am now feeling terror again. Absolute terror that I'm really in the dark and I really don't know what's under this ocean swimming around. Michelle is clinging to the algae covered hull of her capsized canoe, a small speck at the mercy of nature. Protruding from the side of the hull is a lateral float, a wooden outrigger arm which she's managed to wedge her feet against. It's agony and extremely precarious.

Each wave threatens to separate her from her boat. In the dark, she'd never find the upturned canoe. It would just be her in the unknown depths below. I actually did begin to think now, I don't think I'm going to make it. I'm probably going to die tonight. And where am I going after this? And what was going to happen if I did die?

Because that seemed like now quite a certainty. Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes? If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice? Welcome to Real Survival Stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. People suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet Michelle Hamilton. Michelle is 22 years old and has left her home in Australia

to explore the world. After teaching in Japan, she's reunited with her mom, who's flown out to join her for the trip of a lifetime. 10 sun-drenched days on the stunning island of Boracay in the Philippines. The holiday starts out as everything they'd hoped for, but when invisible currents drag Michelle out to sea, she's left helpless in an unforgiving ocean. Consumed by a raw, childlike terror, her life hangs in the balance, and it seems nobody

is coming to help. That's why I was really heartbroken come the end of that second day thinking why hasn't my mum come? Like she's supposed to be my mum. Over the next three days Michelle will come face to face with punishing weather, apex predators, and her own beliefs. I'm John Hopkins from Noisa. This is Real Survival Stories. It's March the 9th, 1989, in paradise. The Philippines is an archipelago of over 7,600 islands, and Boracay is a jewel among them. Just under four square miles in size, its shoreline is dotted with 17 beaches and coves. Soft, white sand, surrounded by mangroves, craggy rocks, and lush palm trees. All set against a perfect blue sky.

It's a haven for wildlife and world-weary travelers. In a beachside bungalow, Michelle bursts in to wake up her mom, Rochelle. Rochelle's eyes are heavy with sleep, whilst Michelle's shine with excitement. The past few mornings have been spent on their balcony enjoying lazy breakfasts. But it's a beautiful day and Michelle has a plan. They should take a boat out and adventure around the island. Rochelle doesn't share her daughter's love of the ocean, but she can't help being swept up in her infectious enthusiasm.

She might just need a cup of coffee first. Michelle's already off to find a boat. I've always been a person to love exploring, to love nature and to push boundaries. You know, when I was a child, me and a friend got these rubber inflatable raft things and we got caught in a rip and towed out, and my dad had to get in his boat and come and get us. So, you know, I was always pushing the boundaries because I found it fun. Michelle grew up in Perth, in Western Australia. Much of her childhood was spent at the beach, endless afternoons trawling the sands with brightly coloured plastic buckets and spades,

testing her limits in the water. And even though her dad once saved her from a riptide, he's not the hero in Michelle's story. I had a very dysfunctional growing up. My dad was very unstable and a heavy drinker, violent. And yeah, it just caused me to be pretty messed up, to be honest. When you grow up in a house of fear, you either become fearful or you become fearless. And when you're younger, you're fearful. But once you become an adult, that can turn and can make you fearless and reckless. You just never think when

you're 22 that anything bad's going to ever happen. You're invincible at that age and I truly thought I was. You can trace Michelle's route to the Philippines back to one moment. She was in her early 20s and seemed to have life all figured out, a partner and a clear future ahead of her. But her plans were abruptly upended. I came home one day to find my boyfriend of two years in bed with my best friend. I was so devastated because we were meant to be getting married and I just had to get out of there. I just wanted to escape. But how to do it?

Michelle opened up the Sydney Morning Herald. Her green eyes scanned the paper's job pages until they stopped. The advert was for English teachers in Japan, all expenses paid. I'm like, Mum, I'm out of here. I've got to go. Packing up her bags, the world was opening up to her. But Rochelle, who by now had divorced Michelle's dad, was in stasis. So Michelle's new freedom came with an aftertaste of guilt. Because leaving home also meant leaving her mum,

who, in the chaos of her childhood, was everything you'd want in a parent. I mean, not to sound like a cliche, but if she wasn't my mum, I would choose her to be my best friend because she's just incredibly loyal. She's a very selfless person. She always went out of her way to help. She always gave money to people. She always took people's phone calls and did counselling with them. And she just, she was a very self-sacrificing person. I don't think I

would have made it without my mum who just instilled in me a lot of confidence and let me know that you're going to do great in this life, despite what other people would tell me. If I have any good traits about me now, I learned them from my mum. Once Michelle was in Japan, letters from home revealed life was not getting any easier for Michelle. She'd been in a car accident. Her landlord was threatening eviction. Life seemed to be overwhelming her. Michelle needed to intervene. And so I called my mum and said, can you get a couple of weeks off work? I'm going to take you on an all expenses paid holiday

to this little island called Boracay in the Philippines. Now, on a beautiful morning on Boracay, the troubles of home seem a world away. Michelle and her mum have had their coffee and are standing on the beach staring at a boat. It's a traditional Filipino canoe with two outriggers called a banca. It comes with oars and a plastic bucket. The plan is to take snorkels, masks and flippers and canoe around the island, exploring its many coves and beaches. Michelle smiles at the man offering to hire it to them.

They'll take it. It's coming up to 10 a.m. and out on the water, Michelle's enthusiasm is rewarded. The scene is spectacular. Pristine azure waters stretch out ahead, the sun's reflection dances across the surface, and the bunker offers a perfect viewing platform. A school of fish, electric blue and yellow against the water, shimmies beneath her. Michelle stretches out her hand to the glass-like surface and her light touch creates an elegant ripple. She looks across at Rochelle, who isn't so sure. When it comes to water, she just really doesn't like it at all. And we were out there for a little while and she starts to get very nervous because the boat's got a bit of a leak in it. It was concerning her, and because the waters were crystal clear,

you could really see all the ocean life swimming around. It isn't long before Rochelle's had enough. The breeze has picked up, and the banker has gone from gliding to swaying across the water. They paddle to the shore. Rochelle scoops up her possessions and heads up the beach The rest of the morning will be spent in a hammock Rochelle is straight back to it She stretches out the oars, arms flexing as she propels through the water

For a moment she looks down at the inside of the canoe I could just see there was a little bit of water coming in, but I was in my bikinis and I was going to hop in and go snorkelling, so what's a little bit of extra water? If the water becomes a problem, that small white bucket is rolling around the bottom of the boat, ready to bail it out. Michelle also has her bag, her water bottle,

and even her passport strapped to her midriff inside a money belt, always ready for her next adventure. She reaches down to dig her Walkman out of the bag. She presses play and closes her eyes, the music of U2 filling her ears. The sun is warm on her back, and the breeze is gentle on her skin. Michelle maneuvers the canoe. Her destination is the southernmost tip of the island, and she rows in time to the beat. Looking towards Barrakay, the heat of the day has created a glistening mirage, making it appear like a vision, one of a perfect tropical island.

Michelle breezes down the coast, but as she nears the tip of the island, she rows harder. She pauses, frowning. She doesn't seem to be getting any closer. In fact, the boat is moving away from the shore michelle steps up her efforts paddling with more intensity eventually she gives up and looks at her watch 1pm she's been on the water for three hours and it's really time to head back she rose back up the island and attempts to cut into the shore.

It was quite alarming because the more I tried to go inland, I just couldn't. And I realized I'd gotten stuck in some kind of a current. And it was at that point that I really did start to think, oh, this is not going well. But I was still sure that once I got past those currents, that I'll be all good. I really just kept on thinking it's all going to work out. Michelle takes a deep breath and keeps going, her hands clenched around the wooden oars,

reddened with determination. But the ocean fights her every move. Before she knows it, an hour has passed, then two. The shore is no closer, and her calm assurance crumples. People ask me what was the scariest time of all. It was actually that time. You know, around the four o'clock mark, when I really realised I really can't get back. I really can't get back. I'm now exhausted. My hands are all shredded.

I've been paddling with the oars flat out, just sweating bullets. I've just never felt such, really such fear. It was really quite terrifying. Michelle squints at the shoreline, exhaustion dripping from her beaten body. Then something catches her eye, a giant stingray passing beneath the boat, its powerful wings undulating,

carrying it into the depths below. She shudders. The sea that just hours before had called to Michelle, inviting her to explore its wonders, is murkier now. She scrabbles around the bottom of the bunker, her hands passing over her water bottle,

her walkman fumbling desperately for her cigarettes. Her shaking hands prize one from the packet. And the cigarettes are dry and then I go and try and ignite the lighter and the bloody light is wet and I just screamed into the ocean. I'm like... Michelle needs a plan. It won't be long until the sun

sets, and what was a gentle breeze is now gathering force, whipping up the sea. The bunker continues to drift. Michelle scans the horizon. There's no sign of a rescue boat. Has anyone even noticed

she's gone? And I made a decision that if nobody comes, I'm swimming. The idea of swimming through dark, murky waters, I planned on putting on the flippers. I'll be splashing like crazy, basically alerting every shark in the Philippines. Hey, I'm here. Come and get me. It was just so terrifying.

It was one of those things that I was damned if I did and I was damned if I didn't. At 5pm, Michelle picks up her flippers and her mask. Within an hour, the sun will be gone, and it's now about five kilometres to the shore. No one wants to be in these waters in the dark. She manoeuvres carefully to the canoe's outrigger and takes a deep breath. She is about to jump. And then I suddenly heard this just very loud voice, like coming through a megaphone, saying,

don't leave the boat. She swivels her head around, looking for what can only be a rescue boat. She swivels the other way. But there's no one. No boat. Just the distant shoreline on one side and the vast expanse of sea stretching out on the other. You know, I was like, wow, that's pretty odd. I definitely heard something and when I go to

swim again again this booming authoritative voice which just it wasn't even a suggestion now it was a command don't leave the boat and at that point I was more afraid of the voice than actually the swim. I just thought, I have no idea who that was, but I've got to get in this boat and somehow I've got to hold on for dear life because it's now getting dark. There's now some kind of a storm brewing and I just don't know what to do. You're a podcast listener, and this is a podcast ad heard only in Canada. Reach great Canadian listeners like yourself with podcast advertising from Libsyn Ads.

Choose from hundreds of top podcasts offering host endorsements or run a pre-produced ad like this one across thousands of shows to reach your target audience with Libsyn ads. Email bob at libsyn.com to learn more. That's B-O-B at L-I-B-S-Y-N dot com. It's late at night in the Sulu Sea. The sun that once made the water sparkle has abandoned Michelle, leaving her beneath a dark, foreboding sky. An eerie silence envelops her.

Then comes the howling, soft at first, then rising as fierce winds transform the sea into a sinister, churning chaos. The bunker rocks violently as waves crash against it. Michelle clings to its wooden sides, desperate to stay seated. The sea appears to grow around her, grey and menacing, as each wave threatens to hurl her into the swirling abyss. I just got to the point where I didn't look at the sky. It was too scary. It was just better to keep my head inside the boat and don't look around.

Michelle twists her body beneath the plank seats and curls up inside. The rain beats down on her exposed skin, but her eyes are clenched in denial. What she can't block out is the noise, the cacophony of crashing waves, rain and booming thunder as the skies and the ocean join forces in a terrifying symphony. The night just gets worse and worse and worse and worse. Honestly, I just couldn't believe it.

I mean, suddenly there was just big claps of thunder, lightning in the sky. It was terrorizing. Now and then Michelle's eyes snap open. The lightning illuminates the scene around her. The black clouds and the ocean seem to have merged, and the bunker can't withstand it. First, the plank seat is ripped out by the impact of the swell. Then the oars disappear into the thrashing sea. As the waves grow higher, they pour into the hull. Water covers Michelle's feet and starts to crawl up her legs she grips onto the white plastic bucket and begins bailing her exhausted muscles scream for reprieve but Michelle doesn't stop

it was an all-night ordeal of bailing water looking at the apocalyptic situation around me. The wind was howling like crazy. Even thinking about it, it was so terrifying. I just, yeah, it was awful. Finally, a lull. As dawn approaches, the rain stops and Michelle lets the bucket fall from her hands. Her eyes are blank with fatigue. Her body aches for sleep.

She collapses into the bottom of the boat. So I had to put my neck in a very strange position right into the bottom of the boat. So I had to put my neck in a very strange position right into the tip of the boat. And this is when I again heard this voice, but not booming and loud. Just this voice say to me, pull your head out of there now. And so I pulled my head out and I sat up and that's when she sees it a wall of water coming towards her bearing down on the battered boat

everything goes into slow motion it's like a car accident before it happens it's like oh here we go and i knew this one would be the one that would do me in. There's no time to do anything except brace for impact. As the wave smacks into the canoe, Michelle is catapulted into the air before being sucked into the ocean. She's trapped under the surface in a vortex, dragging her round and round, deeper and deeper, as she struggles to work out which way is up. When she finally breaks through the surface, gasping, hungry breaths,

she looks around, panicked for her boat, her lifeline. And I located the bunker and swam back to it to find that it was now capsized. Her possessions are scattered around in the water. Bottle, Walkman, flippers and mask. She manages to grab the flippers and then helplessly watches the rest float away or sink out of sight. It's 6 a.m. on Friday, March the 10th. As day breaks, the morning sun casts its light on Michelle's capsized boat. She tries to right the vessel. First she attempts to push it up while treading water beside it. No luck. Next, she dives beneath the boat, using her flippers to gather momentum

before pushing from within. Her hands slam against the inside of the hull, but the boat is immovable, as if vacuum-sealed to the ocean's surface. She glances down at her exposed legs and the vast sea beneath them. She has to get back on that boat. Clambering onto the algae-slick hull, she finds it too slippery to hold. Eventually, she manages to wedge herself between the hull and the horizontal outrigger attached to it. The wood digs into her back, but it's better than floating helplessly in the open water. With the storm's unrelenting pressure now behind her,

Michelle can take a moment to gather her thoughts. From the point on where I pulled my neck out of the boat and knew that I should be dead, I at this point thought, someone's helping me. Someone's giving me instructions on how to survive. Again, I still don't know who it is. Could it be God? Is it an angel? I don't know, but I decided that

this voice was on my side. The day shows just how far she's been dragged by the currents. For a K is a mere shadow on the horizon, and Michelle is totally alone. It's day two out at sea, but unlike yesterday, Michelle has no water bottle. Her mouth is dry. She rolls her tongue around its parched interior and winces as she moves her cracked, salt-encrusted lips. There is no protection from the sun, and its once soothing rays now blaze relentlessly on her red, exposed skin. The countdown is on. Will she make it through another day? The skyline remains resolutely empty. No plane overhead, no rescue boat speeding towards her.

The lack of any sign of rescue starts to weigh on her. You know, my mum's a real lioness of a mum. She's fiercely protective and I knew that she would have moved heaven and earth to come and get me. And I guess that's why I was really heartbroken, thinking, why hasn't my mum come? Like, she's supposed to be my mum. She's supposed to come and save me. Like, why isn't she here? What's preventing her? And I was really heartbroken as to why she hadn't come to get me. The hours crawled by with nothing to distract Michelle from the silence that surrounds her. Without the wind of the night before, the sea is disconcertingly quiet. When the sunset arrives, it casts a fiery beauty across the ocean. But Michelle cannot enjoy the spectacle, because another

night is on its way. I'd already seen stingrays swimming under the water. I knew there was a bunch of creatures out there. The Philippines is renowned because it is tropical waters for having sharks. And I am now feeling terror again. Absolute terror that, oh my gosh, I'm going to spend another night at sea. But now I don't even have the boat to sit in. I'm just holding on to a piece of wood

and I'm really in the dark and I really don't know what's under this ocean swimming around. I actually did begin to think now, I don't think I'm going to make it. I'm probably going to die tonight. And what was going to happen if I did die? Because that seemed like now quite a certainty. The silence is broken as the slow howl of the wind starts up again.

It whips up waves that rock the bunker violently. Michelle is repeatedly pushed into the water and forced to feel her way back to the slimy wooden hull. The punishment continues and the emotional turmoil grows. I started to get pretty angry, to be honest. I'm like, what is going on? Like, why am I still out here? Then I started getting angry at the God that I didn't know.

So then I'm like, what have I done? I'm a good person. I'm a really good person. I'm a kind person. I'm a nice person. Why am I being punished and feeling like this was horribly unfair, that this should really happen to evil people but not me. And then suddenly I just kept getting these flashbacks of, you know, the guy that I said slept with my friend. Well, actually, he convinced me to steal a car. Well, actually, he stole the car but he turned up with a car and said, pack all your stuff, we're going to Sydney. And so we drove all the way to Sydney from Perth in a stolen car, which then I was really scared that we're going to get caught. And we did.

And so I got a flashback of, don't you remember stealing that car? You know, all these flashbacks of what I'd done and all the bad things that I had actually done made me realise you're not as good a person as you thought you are. I was kind of shocked at what a wretched person I actually was. Michelle has never been a believer. It's her mother, Rochelle, who has recently found her Christian faith. At the start of their trip, she'd even tried to talk to her daughter about it.

She said, you know, if God ever brings you so far down on your knees that you've got nowhere else to look but up, then just call out to him and I promise he'll save you. And I'm like, okay. I thought nothing more of it. Now out in the ocean, it kept going round and round, this sentence. And I just basically at this point thought, well, if there's really a God, I want you to tell me if I'm going to die and just put me out of my misery and then I won't keep

struggling to survive. And so I just looked up into the sky and I just asked, am I going to die? And I didn't honestly expect an answer, but this very profoundly authoritative voice which this time I didn't just hear audibly but it's like it went right through my whole system it was really bizarre it's like every cell in my body was enlivened by this voice and came alive and this voice said to me you are not going to die and I was so so amazed, I asked, could you say that again? And again, this voice said to me, you are not going to die. And I just believed. I just believed.

It's Saturday, March the 11th, day three on the water. This time, as the early morning sun glints on the horizon, Michelle looks out and sees three landmasses coming out of the ocean. Three islands. When I saw those islands, I just made it my mission to just paddle and paddle and paddle and paddle and paddle and paddle to get to these islands because I had to make it before the close of that third night. She is profoundly sleep deprived, but allowing herself to drift off would be fatal. It's time to move or die. The islands twinkle in the dawn, beckoning her. Michelle swims steadily, pushing the bunker in front of her.

She's painfully dehydrated. Her head throbs with every movement. The toll of the past two nights shows not only on her beaten face, but on the boat. One outrigger is gone, detached by the force of the waves. If the canoe disintegrates any further, Michelle will have nothing to cling on to. She must reach land as soon as possible. There are three islands to choose from, varying in size. The current seems to be pushing Michelle in the direction of the middle one, so she goes with it. But a huge wave crashes into her, changing her course and sending her towards the largest island.

Unbeknownst to Michelle, this change of direction also lands her in a shipping lane. Her flippers kick behind her, her attention wholly focused on the swim, when something glints in her periphery. A boat. I am beyond excited. I think finally I'm going to be rescued. But it was really quite a long way away. You know, we're talking about a couple of k's away. I was just hoping that they'd see me.

But they didn't. And they just went on. I tried not to let it affect me too much. And I just went on with my goal to get to that island. The midday sun beats down. Michelle paddles on, making slow but determined progress. She looks out. The three islands are inching closer.

But then she spots something else. Two silhouettes, dark against the water, moving towards her. She squints, intrigued. What are they? More boats? But intrigue quickly changes to horror. They're definitely not boats. They're something alive. And they are the last thing anyone wants to see in open water. I suddenly saw the fins of not one but two sharks gliding along in the distance. But I could very clearly see them. I just knew that I had to stay calm. So it's like a fear. I can only describe it as like somebody has reached inside your chest

and has grabbed your heart and is just clenching it. In an attempt to get her vulnerable legs out of the water, Michelle tries to clamber on to the bunker. She wrenches her body onto the upturned boat, using every limb, every ounce of remaining strength. But she can't hold on. Unfortunately, the waves from behind just swept me like a torpedo straight towards the sharks. And I couldn't believe it.

I was actually closer to them. And then all I could do was just swim slowly back to the boat. I mean, I wanted to swim as fast as I could, but I knew that lots of sudden movements would be a bad idea. So I just slowly went back, slowly went back, slowly went back. Michelle watches as the two fins glide towards her, her heart pounding in her ears. And they just kept on swimming.

They didn't change course at all, and they just kept swimming off in her ears. And they just kept on swimming. They didn't change course at all and they just kept swimming off in the distance. As the hours pass, the island's outlines become clearer, less shadowy and somehow more real. Then the water around Michelle begins to vibrate gently. And I heard the boat before I saw it. It was like a rumbling.

And I looked and I could see this boat. And I was just waiting to get close enough that I would be able to call out for help. And the boat sort of went past me and I tried to call out for help, but I hadn't had any water for like three days and I couldn't. My voice was like, help, help. There was nothing there. And so the disbelief that I finally can see the rescue boat and it's just right there and then I can't call out for help and nobody seems to be on board.

The deck appears empty, a ghost ship gliding by. It's so close and yet so far. Until. I suddenly saw this figure come to the back of the boat and suddenly point to me and start waving. And suddenly all these people appeared on the back of this boat, waving and waving, and then they start beckoning for me to swim to the boat.

I was kind of expecting somebody to get in a rubber ducky and come and get me, but they didn't. They just kept beckoning. Come, come, you swim. And I tried to swim and I realized that my arms were no longer capable of swimming that distance. Every time I tried to swim, I had to keep stopping every five or six meters because it was like my shoulders were dislocated. Her arms drained of strength. Michelle lies on her back and kicks her way towards the boat, her blonde hair floating beneath her. It's a fishing vessel.

And when she reaches it, the men on board throw a rope over and beckon her to climb up. She tries, but she can't grip. Her arms keep giving way. But eventually, she gets a strong enough hold and the fishermen slowly drag her over the side. But all the way up, they kept calling, Serina, Serina, it's Serina. I didn't know what they meant at the time

until I heard the one English word, which was mermaid. It's mermaid, it's setting up. I didn't know what they meant at the time until I heard the one English word, which was mermaid. It's mermaid. It's the mermaid. It's 3pm and Michelle slumps onto the deck. Finally, safety. She has drifted 120 nautical miles through the Sulu Sea to get here and is now just off Kuyo Island. The 13 crew members crowd around in amazement before lifting her up. She's carried through the boat to a cabin with a steel bunk. There, the fishermen lay her down and gently lift her head to give her water, attempting to quench her enormous thirst.

A crew member helps to remove her money belt, now a sodden mass around her waist. He opens up her passport, then shouts to his crewmates in Filipino, She's no mermaid. She's Australian. Out of the sea, as the salt water on her skin evaporates, Michelle's body is on fire. Her skin is raw with sunburn. Someone tries to remove her flippers, and it's agony. There are no medical supplies on the boat, and the majority of the fishermen don't speak English. Michelle gestures frantically to her skin, and they stare back at her. The message isn't getting through. She needs something, anything to soothe the burns.

Eventually, her eyes settle on a plate of fruit nearby. She points to it, then to her face, and the penny drops at last. So they covered my face in cut-up mangoes. It'll do for now. The boat is destined for Manila, the capital city. Michelle shifts on her bunk and starts to drift in and out of sleep. All I kept saying every time I woke up is, have you got in touch with my mum? Have you got in touch with my mum?

Because I kept thinking my mum's going to think I'm dead by now. She's going to be so devastated. And all I could think about, I couldn't think about anything else but getting that message to her. With no mobile phones, the only information she can give them is the address of their accommodation in Boracay. And I wrote it down, a little piece of paper, Willie's bungalow is number four, Rochelle Hamilton, please just call and tell her I'm not dead, I'm alive. Sunday, March the 12th.

The journey's taken 24 hours, but they're nearly back on land. Michelle drags herself from the bunk, and her body shakes with exertion as she goes up on deck to watch Manila draw near. When the boat docks, she says goodbye to the fishermen, handing over all of the cash and traveller's cheques from her money belt. It's the least she can do. She attempts to walk down the gangway, visibly struggling to put one foot in front of the other.

And we go straight down to the Coast Guard where I tell them my whole story but I said before I do that I want to call the Australian Embassy. I called them but it was a Sunday and there was no answer, just an answering machine and so I just left a message saying somebody please tell Rochelle Hamilton that her daughter is alive and I'm here at the Coast Guard in Manila. The Coast Guard offers to pay for accommodation for Rochelle. He walks her through the busy streets of the city, passing Spanish colonial churches, modern brute list buildings, food stands and restaurants,

an overwhelming barrage of sights and sounds after her days of total isolation in the water. When they arrive at the motel, Michelle goes straight to her room. And inside this dodgy motel, no joke, there was a painting of a storm scene, which I had to take down. And then I just had a shower and lay down. And then suddenly there was a phone call and somebody saying, are you Michelle Hamilton? I'm like, yeah. And they're like, we have your mum here in Manila. She'll be coming soon to your hotel room and you'll get to see her.

And of course, I was very excited to see her and a little bit scared. I was a little bit scared, to be honest, because I thought I have promised my mom the holiday of a lifetime to relax. And I have put that woman through hell. Michelle waits. So much has happened since the start of their vacation, since those easy, lazy mornings back in Boracay, drinking coffee on their balcony. Then, a knock at the door. And she was there with a couple of officials,

and she just grabbed me and squeezed me, and, like, I had second-degree sunburn, so I was like, oh, mum, mum, mum, mum, mum. And we just overjoyed to see each other. She did not think that she would ever see me again. And for her, as you can imagine, the worst thing is she would never have known what happened to me. All of her days she would have wondered,

is she on an island somewhere? Was she eaten by sharks? Horrendous. They curl up together. Rochelle tells her daughter how she raised the alarm. Search boats and volunteers had scoured the sea, but returned with nothing. She'd even hired a search plane and joined the crew as they flew over the water, desperately scanning the blue below for the tiny bunker. Eventually, she had traveled to Manila, hoping she could organize a full-scale

search and rescue operation using military planes. But she'd been told it wasn't possible, and the chances of Michelle surviving that long in the ocean were minimal. Rochelle then listens as her daughter recounts her days drifting at sea, the storm, the hopelessness, the sharks, and the voice that kept her company. And we just spent the next couple of hours cuddling each other and me telling her, Mom, you were right. You were right about God. And he spoke to me in the ocean and he sent angels to help me.

And he's real. And you were right. And we were just both astonished. I without a doubt know beyond any doubt that if God had not intervened, I would be dead. Even before Michelle leaves the Philippines, she's hailed by journalists as the Aussie mermaid. Arriving back in Australia, her picture is plastered across papers, magazines, and she's inundated with interview requests. And when she starts speaking at Rotary Club dinners and women's groups, it's cathartic. She then flies to America,

where her story is shared on 100 radio stations and 12 TV channels. She and Rochelle even publish a book. Rochelle returns to her old home, but not her old life. I immediately stopped being a party girl. I immediately stopped drinking. I immediately stopped trying to write myself off. It was just a complete and utter transformation from the person I was.

Before I got lost at sea, I was lost, just emotionally. So I changed 100%. It's been over 30 years since Michelle floated alone through the Sulu Sea. The distinctive blonde hair is still there, but the fearlessness that once dominated her personality never quite comes back. She avoids small boats and being by the ocean at night. She now runs a business and lives out in the Queensland countryside with her husband. Their grown-up kids have left home, but they come back to visit with their own kids.

Occasionally, she'll still get a call from someone, a journalist, a podcast producer, wanting to know what she learned from those days in the water. I just feel like our purpose here is the purpose that Jesus gave us, not to be served, but to serve. And prior to this, I was all about what can this world and people do for me? I guess all I can say is that I just believe that this was meant to happen. We all go through so many different things in our life and I've been through a lot of stuff even since I got lost at sea.

And, you know, we can all feel like we're drowning, drowning in a bad marriage, drowning in financial disaster, drowning in addiction. We can all have sharks around us. It's just not giving up, just not throwing in the towel too early because things can always turn around. So it's just never giving up and trusting that we have a purpose

and it's a good purpose. Next time on Real Survival Stories, we meet wilderness ranger Todd Stefanik. In September 2011, as a massive inferno breaks out in Minnesota, Todd is tasked with clearing an area of national forest of members of the public. But what begins as a routine operation suddenly escalates into the largest and fastest-moving wildfire in state history. With flames closing in on all sides, Todd and his fellow rangers will have no choice but to seek refuge in one of the forest's many lakes. But will this provide a safe haven, or condemn

them to a watery grave? That's next time on Real Survival Stories.