Some people discover the ocean. I ran into it.

Literally — my mum had to pull me out when I was a toddler. I'd spotted the water, broken free, and jumped straight in. That was it. The beginning of a lifelong obsession I never really had a choice about.

I grew up in Argentina, spending every summer at the family beach house: in the water more than out of it. But it wasn't until I moved to New Zealand in 2017, and later Australia, that I discovered scuba diving and then eventually Freediving. Something about those waters, and that slower pace of living close to nature, deepened the connection in a way I hadn't expected. And every descent since feels more like coming home than the last.

There's something about holding your breath and descending in silence that feels closer to the ocean than anything else I've tried. No bubbles. No noise. Just presence.

These days I'm based in Bondi Beach. Sydney waters are a little cold for my Argentine blood, I'll be honest, but I get in as much as I can. What I live for are the ocean expeditions. Travelling to warmer waters, diving with new people, building friendships that only make sense to those who share this obsession.

One trip changed everything. I was in Mo'orea, French Polynesia, diving with whales. One of those experiences that's genuinely hard to put into words. But somewhere between the flights, the gear bags, and the constant struggle of travelling with long fins, a thought kept coming back: why is there nothing beautiful to carry these in?

Every fin bag I'd ever used was built like equipment. Tactical. Ugly. Completely disconnected from the way this sport actually feels.

So I built something better. That's Oshan Society.