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.’”