Piratophobia

As long as I can remember I’ve been afraid of spiders. I’m 36 years old, I have jumped off a perfectly working plane just for fun, hiked an active volcano, dived from the top of a 20’ waterfall, surfed in great white shark territory, eaten a termite in the jungle, held a 10’ python snake around my neck, and driven in Paris at rush hour… so what is it with spiders that still freaks me out? Let’s rewind…

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2006: Age 31. Mai and I are honeymooning in Fiji and today we decided to hike in the jungle of the lush island of Taveuni. Rain is pouring hard but it doesn’t deter us: both air and water are above 80 degrees. As usual I walk fast, opening the trail that no one but us seems to be using today. My right foot hits the ground a few inches away from a tarantula-like spider heavy enough to be heard stepping on the leaves as it escapes with all the speed allowed by its eight legs. I scream and jump back three feet although the creature is already long gone. On the verge of cardiac arrest, I am grateful for the head start I have on my wife: that scream will remain a secret between the forest and me. I’ll tell her about it after I recover the ability to speak.

1987: Age 12. I step outside to close the shutters of my bedroom and find myself face to face with a 4” brown spider, round body and long legs. I scream, slam the shutter back on the wall and run away. A few days later I am playing with a classmate in my room. He pauses, looks at the wall and points at something with his finger: “Is this your girlfriend?” There is a 2” black spider on the wall, with a strong shiny body and short legs, exactly like the ones they sell in novelty stores for Halloween. My buddy thinks it’s a toy and reaches to grab it. “Don’t touch it: it’s real!” The friend turns white and chuckles, pretending not to be scared as the spider runs for cover.

1985: Age 10. I share a bedroom with my 16-year old brother Marc in a rental home where the family is vacationing for a few weeks. I’ve been at the beach all day and I can’t find sleep, my skin keeps alternating between heat and cold despite the soothing creams: I am sunburned. Despite the darkness my eyes spot a moving shadow on the ceiling. A spider. I jump out of the bed. My heart is racing out of control. Marc understands the situation and says: “That’s how they do it: they creep on the ceiling above you, they aim, and then they drop straight on you for the bite.” I know he’s trying to freak me out so I tell myself that he’s lying. I look back at the ceiling but the spider is gone. A chill travels along my spine and my heart beats even faster. The black shadow is now moving on my bed while I stand on the side and watch, horrified.

1980: Age 5. My favorite TV show is on: “Sandokan” (aka “the tiger of Malaysia”). I love the adventures of this pirate hero with a big heart – Robin Hood meets Jack Sparrow. The night is dark and Sandokan is hiding in the jungle, spying on evil guys who plot against Lady Marianne. Out of the darkness a tarantula larger than a human hand descends from a tree branch above, hanging by a thread of its web. It lands on Sandokan’s naked arm but he doesn’t notice, he’s too busy spying on the bad guys. My 5-year old heart is thumping. I try to warn my hero in danger but he can’t hear me. The spider bites. In a swift move of his dagger he wipes the tarantula off his arm. Too late! Soon an egg-size lump grows on his arm and he gets dizzy. Sandokan saves his own life by cutting the lump off his arm to prevent the venom from going to his heart. Yuck. No wonder this gave me nightmares!

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It’s been more than 30 years and although I am now able to stay calm in the presence of most spiders, deep inside I am still terrified. And I owe it all to a Malaysian pirate in an Italian TV show from the seventies. Thanks for reading this far, you saved me an expensive therapy session. Can I get off the couch now?

Cedric, 9/14/2011