"Anyhow, life would be pretty dreary if we always acted reasonably; it does one good to be a little mad at times."
Thirteen years ago I set off for a three month run through Yemen with three other stout souls. Nobody had ever surfed the mainland, as far as any of us knew, and adventure beckoned. The way the coast bent it had to have waves but more importantly was exotic, dangerous, untamed.
I reached out to Sam George at Surfer magazine and told them our idea. First ever in Yemen. They were in and for a few thousand dollars up front. I reached out to totally disgraced surf brand Ocean Pacific and told them we were doing a story about being the first ever in Yemen for Surfer magazine. They were in for a few thousand dollars. The other friend started emailing randoms in Yemen and accidentally connected with the ex-Prime Minister’s son. He told us we would have anything we needed for this exploration from Land Cruisers to bodyguards to visas.
And we did it. We spent three months traveling from Sana’a to Aden where we got chased by terrorists through the streets then up into the hills near ‘Ataq where Al-Qaeda might have come to try and get us only to be beaten back by a company of battle-hardened Yemeni troops then Mukallah where we surfed an amazing right hander and weren’t allowed to stay in the old city because it was deemed unsafe. Too many beards. Too much religious fervor. Then Sayhut, Qishn, Nishtun where a firefight happened between townspeople and pirates, Al Ghayda where the rusty hull of a beached ship leaked oil into the waves, Hawf, where the Arabian peninsula becomes a rain forest before heading out to the island of Soqotra, a place where the trees bleed and the wind sings.
Thirteen years ago is a long time. My path meandered from Middle Eastern adventure into surf and I thought I would maybe never return to Arabic lands. It has gotten weirder over there. Ugly. And so I buried those travels to Yemen and Lebanon and Syria, Oman, Egypt, UAE, etc. into the footnotes of my life.
Except for some reason I need it again. For some reason that I feel deeply yet can’t quite explain I need to taste that very particular sun, to breathe that specific air and exactly as fate would have it, the same crew from thirteen years ago have somehow gotten their hands on a sailboat in civil war torn Aden. We will sail it through the Bab al Mandab, past Yemen, Eritrea, Sudan and up to Egypt. Past pirates, wars and sensibility.
What’s the point? Again, I don’t know but it is something. Something for my beloved wife and gorgeous daughter but I can’t put my finger on exactly what. Or not yet. The great French adventurer Henri de Monfreid wrote, “Anyhow, life would be pretty dreary if we always acted reasonably; it does one good to be a little mad at times.”
See you all in two weeks.
P.S. If anything should happen please book WSL CEO Paul Speaker for the eulogy.
make yemen great again.
I wan’t to go?
This shall make for a most enthralling memoir Chas. But at what cost I ask you ? BUT AT WHAT COST ?!!
Whats the over -under on your return – Instead of giving all that money to the thugs in vegas, maybe we should just go ahead and set up the fund for your wife and kid now
Need a campaign -Something fitting – no sarah mclachlan kinda shit of you holding a puppy–
Hey Chas,
We need some stories on what the fuck is happening in Maldives. Apparently word is new government more radical Islam than ever and more ISIS fighters coming from there than anywhere else!!
Could be heresay as mate sourced it from somewhere. But sounds inflammatory enough for me!!!!
Stay the fuck away from Yemen
Fuckin hell Chas, Cardiff-By-The-Sea not dangerous enough for you? Get back safe.
The gallant rider has sized up and honed in for the long line through the dark tunnel. Four fins slice silently through the moistened floor ‘til he breaks for the light and is sent plummeting through electrically charged molecules towards the eye that never blinks. Time and space fold into a singular, bending cyclone of swirling hues, like a box of Nerds in a juicer.
As he nears the exit, time slows and the shoulder sags with the burden of gravity. Needles pierce his kidneys and spine and anticipation seeps into his joints. The throat of hell hisses and sprays electric venom, laced with rebuke and endorphins, causing orgasmic blindness. He slumps ever lower before toppling head under foot… coming to rest on the sharp coral floor amongst discarded bones and forgotten dreams.
Uniformed lifeguards and stretcher bearers arrive, their fingers scraped pink by the rough-hewn lids of pickle jars, to haul him away in a four-wheel drive ambulance. He’s cited for improper use of priority and loud rash guard colours. After a summary trial, he’s sent to the State Mental Hospital where he spends ninety days in a windowless room, lying on a urine-stained mattress, staring at the claw marks etched into the masonry walls.
Wondering where it all went wrong.
How many rough drafts did you make before pinching this one off?
One lugubrious Bill Finnigan-like grunt.
Is that you?
Brown noser, do gooder, teachers pet, etc…. guys like you always train wrecked the grading scale for the rest of us average students. I’ll kick your ass at some four square or kick ball though.
Amazing the treasures one can swap for a worn pair of Adidas in that part of the world..so I’ve found. May the beard of Allah guide you. Sounds like a fucken radical mission.
Sick, godspeed Chas.
Don’t get kidnapped by beards. That would be worse than immediate death caught in ak-47 cross-fire.
What’s your wife’s a priori position on extra-marital sex?
I’m the Puritanical one. Expressly forbidden!
Damn Rory was getting excited , can’t wait to read about the trip , life as an adrenalin seeking writer , damn , sounds real to me , how about a trip sometime to another country , that’s in full civil war , but has 1km perfect right handers , on sand and got an invite from one of the militia , I too seem to want to revisit areas that are possibly a bit risky , but without risk we become one of the sheep that follows , and please no excited Kiwis please!!
Admirable, enjoy yourselves and take care!
” drunk surf ‘ writer’ dragged thru the streets by FCS klan of south yemen” next headline
Alas, the Islamists have Salman Rushdie, FCS has Chas.
And me go tooless? Well they’d have to fire most of the tools at fcs.
do it do it do it…… I did the same thing as a kid….. think Paskowitz family but without the surfing or veganism….. still remember the thrills, Iraq, Jordan, Palmera
good fun and sugary tea
Nothing to gain and literally everything to lose.
“Anyhow, life would be pretty dreary if we always acted reasonably; it does one good to be a little mad at times.” Only boring people say things like that.
kook
ok
Just fuckin be careful Chas
fuck…good luck.
^This dude gets it