Please take a moment to check your email inbox and confirm your subscription to start receiving the latest news and updates.
Deck Cadet Nur Fairuz Nylea will be the first to tell you that she used to suffer from social anxiety, hesitating even to ask for extra chilli at a restaurant.
But place this quiet, unassuming young woman on the bridge of a vessel facing down a dark, brewing storm with 50-knot winds, and a different side of her emerges.
“I looked at my Second Officer and said, ‘I want to go outside,’” she laughs, recalling a stormy evening on her first ship. “He told me, ‘Don’t. You will fly.’” The moment marked the start of her realising she truly belongs out there at sea.
Growing up near the beaches of Brunei within a lively Malaysian community, Nylea was always close to water. But the self-identified Pisces didn’t grow up dreaming of ships; her journey to the ocean was something she had to carve out herself.
When it was time to choose a career, she stumbled upon the maritime course, drawn by a life less ordinary. It was an unconventional choice for the youngest of 3 daughters
Nylea has since sailed with AET and MISC Marine. Currently completing her diploma in Nautical Studies at Singapore Maritime Academy, she’s on her way to earning her COC 3, the credential that will make her a third officer.
A significant portion of her education came from the people she met along the way.
Her first steps into her cadetship, however, felt like a leap into the unknown. She fondly recalls her first sign-on at Singapore’s Marina South Pier, unknowingly walking up the gangway right next to her new Captain.
“I was cracking up because the stairs just kept going,” she laughed. “And then I turned right and saw the ship layout, and it hit me: I’m actually on the ship now.”
For the first two months, she was in awe. Each day brought something new, and she didn’t mind. She was learning, growing, and discovering.
But the storms are not always at sea.
“The biggest challenge wasn’t the work,”
Nylea reflects. “It was the people.”
On one contract, the officers somehow decided she wasn’t worth their time. Orientations sped past at an incomprehensible pace, and her questions were met with silence. Another senior seafarer looked her in the eye and said flatly, “I don’t care about cadets.”
But instead of surrendering, she reframed the isolation as preparation. “I thought, you know what? Becoming an officer means you’re going to do watches on the bridge alone. You’re going to miss out on activities,” she reasons. “I started to see it as preparation for myself—learning how to handle being independent and comfortable with isolation on board.”
Then a cargo engineer noticed her struggling. Every night at 8 PM, he made time to answer her questions about cargo operations. His willingness to guide her proved that even in the most demanding environments, there are always those willing to teach if you are willing to learn.
Her next contract brought a different crew. A chief officer who recognised potential, and a third officer—a Filipino seafarer who had walked the same difficult path—who did not just teach her but empowered her.
While on navigational watch, Nylea’s third officer asked her how they should respond to the crossing situation ahead. “I didn’t realise it would be such a big deal,” Nylea reflects. “But it shows how much the officer trusts you,” she shares, her voice filled with gratitude.
“All the times I questioned my capabilities, all the times I doubted myself… These officers pulled me up. If I were in the trenches, it felt like I was finally at the surface, able to breathe. I could finally stand up straight and think, ‘I actually can do this.’”
Choosing the sea comes with undeniable sacrifices. She missed two Raya celebrations and everyone’s birthdays. Her nephew, once inseparable from her, barely recognises her now.
But she accepts the cost. “You can’t have your cake and eat it,” she asserts.
There is a lingering stereotype in the industry that female seafarers will inevitably give up the maritime sector entirely once marriage occurs. Nylea, however, is firm that any future marriage will need to accommodate her ultimate goal: earning her stripes and becoming Captain.
Today, Nylea looks toward a future full of potential. Beyond getting her Master Mariner ticket, the sea has opened doors she never knew existed, providing vast career options ranging from exploring the offshore sector to eventually becoming a Marine Superintendent or a lecturer.
She doesn’t navigate this path completely alone. She speaks passionately about the “trauma bonding” and “safe space” she and her two female cadet friends have created, a vital support network across oceans.
Ashore, she attends SMOU’s networking sessions when her schedule permits, finding solace in the Union’s community and enjoying the opportunity to mentor the next generation.
When asked for her advice to young women and aspiring seafarers, the mantra that sustained her through her hardest days is one of radical acceptance. She shares:
“Whether it is good or bad, the contract will pass. If it’s bad, it will pass. If it’s good, it will also pass. You will never experience the exact same thing, the same ship, or the same people again.”
The sea has transformed her into unexpected ways. Professionally, she learned to remain calm under pressure and command a bridge watch. Personally, she sheds the weight of social anxiety.
Nylea drives home a salient point: “Sailing truly demonstrates that the only way is forward. You cannot go around, over, or under. There are no shortcuts. The only way is forward.”
Football is Singapore’s favourite sport. So, when there was a call to play futsal, Young SMOU (YSMOU) went all out with some fancy...
Read More
Crew from Brightoil Grace SMOU’s mission is to champion seafarers’ interests and add value to the...
Read More
Football is Singapore’s favourite sport. So, when there was a call to play futsal, Young SMOU (YSMOU) went all out with some fancy...
Read More
Crew from Brightoil Grace SMOU’s mission is to champion seafarers’ interests and add value to the...
Read More