A founder’s real journey, beyond highlight reels.

I’ve been building things online for nearly twenty years, and this is why I’m still here.

That sentence alone carries a lot of weight for me. Because when people hear it, they usually assume success. Stability. A highlight reel.

The truth is messier.

For two decades I’ve tried to make things work in a world that keeps changing faster than the rules can keep up. I’ve built PLR products, graphics packs, Amazon books, training courses, memberships, blogs, ecommerce sites, dropshipping setups, email funnels, and more half-forgotten experiments than I can easily count.

Some things worked for a while. Most didn’t last. None of them gave me the kind of solid ground people assume twenty years should produce.

What they did give me was experience, scars, and a very intimate understanding of how hard it is to keep going when there is no safety net.

Why I'm Still Here

This isn’t a success story, it’s an honest account of what it takes to keep going when quitting would be easier. It’s about the years that didn’t work, the pressure that didn’t show, and the moments where staying mattered more than winning.

This is why I’m still here.

The Part People Don’t See

Right now, I owe my dad around £20,000.

Not because of one reckless bet. Not because of a single big mistake. But because life kept happening while I was trying to keep everything upright. Car repairs. My daughter’s car breaking down. Gaps between income. The slow bleed that happens when you’re always one step away from stability but never quite there.

My dad knows how heavy this is for me. That’s why he helped. Not because he thinks I’m guaranteed to succeed, but because he believes in me as a person and as a father.

That kind of support doesn’t come without guilt. And it doesn’t come without pressure. And why i'm still here.

Burnout Isn’t Loud, It’s Quiet 

What finally broke me wasn’t a single failure. It was the accumulation.

It was realising that most of my days had turned into writing plans, documents, strategies, decks, and frameworks, not because I love paperwork, but because taking the next real step felt too risky emotionally. Writing feels safe. Reaching out and hearing nothing back hurts.

It was launching the Otter Oasis NFT Membership Cards , something I believed could help create early momentum and seeing ten sales in three weeks at three dollars each.

Ten.

That number became a verdict in my head. Not on the idea, but on me. It’s amazing how quickly your brain can turn data into identity when you’re exhausted.

The Team, the Weight, and Why I’m Still Here

There are people working on Otter Oasis right now who aren’t being paid.

They believe in the project. They believe in what it could become. And I know, deep down, that nobody stays unpaid forever. That reality sits on my chest every day.

Leadership isn’t just about vision. Sometimes it’s about carrying the discomfort of knowing you can’t yet provide what people deserve.

Why I Didn’t Quit Earlier

Here’s the uncomfortable truth, a lot of the online business models I spent years trying to make work are now structurally broken for small, independent builders.

Margins collapsed. Platforms consolidated. Attention got swallowed by ads and algorithms. Many people quietly disappeared.

I didn’t disappear.

I kept adapting. Not because I was chasing shiny objects, but because I was trying to survive and provide.

That persistence comes at a cost.

Why I'm Still Here, Why Otter Oasis Exists at All

Otter Oasis didn’t come from a trend cycle or a token idea.

It came from a breaking point. But it also came from something much older.

I am Simon Newcombe a fisherman, and I have been since I was five years old. Long before online businesses, before crypto, before any of this, I had a simple dream. One day owning my own fishing lakes.

In 2000, my family and I went on holiday to Cornwall in the UK. We stayed at a place called White Acres, a holiday park built around fishing lakes, lodges, and nature. That trip stayed with me. It planted the idea of what an amazing place like that could be, not just as a business, but as an experience and a way of life.

For most of my life, that dream felt completely out of reach.

In the UK, building and stocking even a small two to three acre fishing lake can easily cost £100,000 or more. It wasn’t realistic for someone like me.

Around ten years ago, I entered the blockchain space. Later came NFTs, especially and just after the 2021 wave. What fascinated me wasn’t speculation, but the possibility, the idea that technology could be used to coordinate people, capital, and long-term projects in ways that weren’t possible before.

Suddenly, the idea of owning fishing lakes wasn’t just a fantasy. With a token launch, staking systems, and transparent on-chain infrastructure, the financial side of a real-world project like this started to feel possible.

Five years ago, I paid for a course to learn how to code so I could build things myself.

At the time, I asked a developer how much it would cost to build what I’ve now created. The quote came back at £12,000. I didn’t have it. The course cost me £400.

That decision saved me more than money. It gave me ownership, understanding, and the ability to build without waiting for permission.

Otter Oasis has been in motion for over three years now. It’s still my baby, and it always will be. Not because it’s perfect, but because it represents the intersection of everything I’ve lived. Fishing, family, technology, persistence, and the refusal to let go of a dream just because it takes longer than expected.

Otter Oasis is an attempt to build something grounded in the real world, even if it uses modern digital infrastructure to get there.

Not hype. Not promises. Just execution, slowly and honestly.

We are not live yet, but here are some images of the new Otter Oasis APP...

Why I’m Writing This Publicly, And Why I'm Still Here.

I’ve spent years keeping the hard parts private while presenting polished versions of myself online.

I’m done with that.

This isn’t a pitch. It’s not a sales page. Not a call to invest.

Just me saying, I’m tired, but I’m still here.

I’ve failed more times than I can list, but I haven’t stopped caring.

I believe Otter Oasis needs to work not because it’s guaranteed, but because it represents a different way forward. Rooted in patience, honesty, and building something real.

If this resonates with you, that’s enough.

If it doesn’t, that’s okay too.

I’m not chasing applause. I’m choosing transparency.

Because sometimes the only way to keep going is to stop pretending you’re fine.

I’ll be sharing more about Otter Oasis, its progress, and lessons learned along the way, but for now, this is why I’m still here.

— Simon Newcombe

Founder, Otter Oasis