Dakhla, Morocco
by Bernd Roediger 
The 2011 Dakhla Festival in Morocco was a really cool experience for me. Being in Morocco opened my eyes to an entirely different culture, not to mention some unreal surf! I got the news that Dad and I had been selected to go to Dakhla after the Sunset Beach Pro so it was really short notice. This was cool because I had only a vague idea of what I was getting into. It was a spur of the moment trip and that made it all the more exciting. We would go. We had to! It was the opportunity of a lifetime, to go to Morocco, to go to Africa! So we said our goodbyes to my worried mother, ground through the 31 hours of traveling and tried to get as much sleep as possible.
When it was all over, it was midnight and we were in the Dakhla airport or, as another camper so well put it, a small building to walk through! The airport was tiny, like the rest of Dakhla. It was a small town in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by desert to the east and ocean to the west. A group of people from the town greeted us warmly with traditional food and drink along with awesome music! We drove to the camp and that would be our home for the next week. I would have looked around more but instead I crashed and slept in the nearest tent! I slept, dreaming of Africa and surf ringing in my ears.
After that we enjoyed an entire week of epic conditions. Wind and waves were the norm every day. Surf for five hours in the morning and windsurf for five hours in the afternoon! The waves broke off a point and stretched all the way inside, about 100 yards. You could ride the waves all the way in and then ride the off-shore wind out! Each day was action packed and the festival organizers set up competitions throughout the week.
The first day was a day to practice in the waves. I went out really early with Dad and we scored some really epic waves. About head to overhead and peeling down into the bay. You almost didn’t want to do any radical turns because you just wanted to ride the wave all the way in, and in, and in, and in! Today there was a tour around the area of Dakhla. It was to help racers scout out the 30 mile long distance race that was going on in the lagoon. They would go around to different parts of the lagoon and observe landmarks and all that. But we just wanted to see some gnarly stuff! And along the way we did see some gnarly stuff! We saw camels, caravans, and canyons. We saw a lot of plateaus that looked as straight and level as the desk I’m typing this story on! We also went through the town again. Lots of people were busy going about their daily routine, but almost all of them stopped to wave as the bus drove through. Finally we reached this huge dune. It was massive, 20-30 feet high and pure white. After taking pictures, I had the surreal realization that I was very, very far from home and yet very “at home” with my surroundings, with the people, with everything! That afternoon we returned and ate. Then the decision was made to run the windsurf contest.
The waves were just as good as they had been, just now it was windy enough to putt out and sail onto a sick wave! I was having so much fun that I forgot that I was competing! By the end of the day I had made it to the final, which would be held later in the week.
The next day was another free day for me. The body-boarding contest was on as well as the local surf trials so we couldn’t surf. Instead I helped out at a kids’ clinic in the lagoon, it was cool to see the local kids getting a kick out of the stand-up boards, they were pretty good! Then the waves went down in the evening. It was okay, though. We would need our rest for the upcoming day.
The third day was the day of the international surf contest. Longboard and shortboard contests would take up the better part of the day so we wondered what we would do. Then the editor of Get Up magazine, a stand-up paddle mag. in France, and a few other riders came to us with the idea of going North to a “Secret Spot”.
“Not so much of a secret spot now” I said when we rolled up with the video camera on! We jumped out of the car near a large fish camp located on the cliff. We peered down it and about 150 yards down and 250 yards out there was a perfect point break, better than the wave in Dahkla. I ran to the car, grabbed my stuff, and ran down the cliff’s pass into the water. The fishermen watched me in wonder as I paddled out. Dad followed, along with three other guys. Then we started catching waves.
Everyone out was stoked. The waves were picture perfect and they were as long as most videos. I surfed the longest wave I’ve ever surfed, ever, there. And with only four other people? Priceless. After a few hours it was time to head back, sadly I caught one last wave, I hope I go back there someday. Unfortunately I fell asleep on the way there and back so I’ll never know where it is, depressing!
After that we arrived at camp. The surf contest was over and everyone was sitting around waiting for the next report. Finally, the call came in. They would run the windsurfing final.
Exhausted, I got suited up again. “I wish I hadn’t surfed that wave” I thought, yet somehow I didn’t believe that. The wind was light but the waves were to die for, I almost wished they wouldn’t run the contest so I could free-surf unmolested. I had so much fun in the 30 minute heat that I figured they would penalize me. After every wave I put my hands up, just claiming the fact that I had caught such a good wave, everyone probably thought I was showboating! After a while the horn blared and the heat had finished. I came up to the judges tent anxious to know the results. “In third place… Bruno! In second place… Bernd and that leaves Boujmaa in first!” I was overjoyed! The way I saw it, third was a must, second was perfect, and first was a miracle! Beating Boujmaa was a little far fetched so I was more than content with second, finally I could be proud of a good contest! With a good attitude; I got prepared for the next day, which happened to be the stand-up contest.The contest started at around 12:00 and went on until 3:00, which was the hottest time of the day! The competition was intense, around 24 competitors battled in some really good waves. A lot of good talent fell right away as the thick amount of skill left absolutely no room for error. I managed first in my two heats but it was always by the skin of my teeth. The wave held up by the off-shore wind provided excellent room for my switch stance riding which got me big points. But everybody else had their own advantages, even the most subtle differences between riders were enhanced and used as ways to make themselves standout in the crowd. Finally I had made it to the final. I recognized only Colin McPhilip’s name in the heat but had seen the other four people surfing with incredible talent. My nerves were up and I was totally on edge when all of the sudden they called the contest. The final would be run the next day. “There goes any hope of me sleeping tonight” I said aloud.
On the fifth day, the stand-up final was run. After the longboard and shortboard finals where held the stand-up paddlers got a shot. The conditions were changing fast and the waves were shifting with the wind and the tide. I strategized to stay further into the bay where there was a pitching barrel on the inside. But in my heat no such wave came. I cursed quietly under my breath when Colin caught a nice shoulder in from the point on the outside. Ten minutes left and I had caught only minor waves and taken the bigger ones on the head. I then realized that I had to scrap my plan and look for waves somewhere else. I paddled up to the point and just then the wind came up to blow against me. I paddled harder to compensate but didn’t really get anywhere. I pushed and pushed but the incoming, wind, waves, and tide was like crawling against a conveyor belt. Finally I made it to the point. A set lined up on the outside and I caught it. Riding in I felt it was a strong wave. It was peeling perfectly and I hit the wave solidly in both directions and in both stances. I finished off with a one last hit in the beach break that got a few comments from the French-speaking announcer guy. Then I paddled back out now, with barely enough time. I arrived at the point and caught a less than perfect wave in a rush. The wave didn’t do well but it might have been enough. At the beach we asked the judges what the score was. I had come in sixth. A real bummer. But then again it was cool just to reach the finals of two events. I received the best overall prize for that! The first ever Dakhla Waterman Award called “Prince Of Dakhla”! The experiences I had obtained in the past few days and the people I had met were my real trophy.
We then free surfed the next few days and heard a few reports about rioting in the town. First we heard that there were a few protesters that were more just drunk kids. Then we heard that they had burned cars and destroyed the concert stage that held the musical side of the festival. Then we heard that they were sweeping around the countryside looking to terrorize anyone who was a part of the Dahkla festival and that the military had to take action! All of these reports kept getting more and more wild until the official word came out. Apparently there was a dispute between two neighborhood gangs and they burned 3 cars. That was the extent of the countrywide destruction that was taking place. In the end it was just sad to see that a few people had to ruin such a great experience for everybody else. I remembered the people greeting us at the airport, the shopkeepers waving as we passed by in our tour bus, and the kids that had a blast rolling around on the stand-up boards in the clinic. The problem with all of these riots and protests is that it is almost always a small group of people that muck everything up for the normal ones. And that to me is sad to see. I saw such a diverse culture in Dahkla and had so many good experiences, experiences that I will never forget.
Photo credits: Jean Souville