At last! Kitesurfing In Essaouira

After nine days of waiting, the wind finally arrives in Essaouira. I’ve never waited so long for wind anywhere. It comes in strong. A cosy 12 in the morning, 15 to 24 knots in the afternoon, gusts well over that. Everything I’ve read is right: The wind is really stubborn. Not as bad as Bavarian lakes, but quite uncomfortable.

The dromedaries stand on the beach. Every now and then a student’s kite bangs into them. Training should actually be forbidden here. The waves are quite heavy, only one metre today, but there are plenty of them. The wind fluctuates slightly by 400% every five seconds. In conditions like these, kitesurfing schools only provide lasting experiences of the third kind. As soon as most of the body drag takes place in the air, there is little safety.

The locals are not bothered by the gusts. The smallest goes out with a Micronesian wonder bag of five square metres. The others also flatten everything they can: steep waves are ironed out. The windsurfers, who were clearly in the majority, had their freedom of movement curtailed. Several boards are rescued and kiters towed away. The scenery is not quite as dramatic as El Yaque at over 20 knots… but not far off either. Something is constantly hitting the water.

I’m out all day with a 12m² Liquid Force session. Cosy at first. All the statements on Oase are correct. As soon as the wind reaches the lower 20 knots, it gets uncomfortable because it changes so much. At some point I get tired of adjusting the adjuster every minute. Squall planing with inverted push-ups and cat humps. There’s not much to learn today. If the wind is good, the waves don’t play along with the jumping. Once they’re gone, the wind is a joy.

After just three hours on the water, I’m exhausted. Even the highly valued wake-up drink from the boat doesn’t help. Even after more than a litre of freshly squeezed orange juice, I’m still flat. Back to the hostel. Sort through loads of pictures. Beer, grab a bite to eat. Shit, it’s almost midnight again. Quickly check the pictures…. and a better gallery function. Over and out.

Day two. The forecast is good, so breakfast on the beach, in the wind shelter of the Mistral Kitesurf Club. Wind protection is urgently needed. It’s already chopping at ten o’clock with a whopping 20-25 knots. It stays like this all day. Gusts go up to 30 knots, wind holes rarely below 15. The gusts are some of the hardest I’ve ever ridden. Only the Brombachsee in front of thunderstorm fronts and Boa Vista are even more violent.

Kitesurfing is a religion. Religions are supposed to give you strength. But today it only costs strength. The sentence I hear by far the most today is “C’est pas jolie.”. That’s not nice. Surfers talk about the wind in Tarifa, which is even stronger but also much steadier. Then another gust of sand blasts over the fence.

We eat what’s on the table. I go out before noon with a 9 Crossbow. The kite is in good shape and the gusts are spilling a lot of juice. I’m almost constantly on the last trim knot with the depower fully pulled. At times it feels like I’m travelling 60 degrees upwind, the sail is so flat. I have problems reducing my height. Downwind I’m constantly being pulled upwards, jumping is difficult because of the constant up and down of the wind. The waves are a whopping 1.5 metres and often come in nasty sets of two, one right after the other. You jump over the first wave and slam vertically into the second. The water is yellow with churned-up sand and stings your eyes.

Until the heaviest gusts around three o’clock, training sessions are constantly taking place. This is criminal, the schools should have their licences revoked. At least four kites die today, a few more are badly damaged. People, you don’t train above 25 knots! There are great stories on Oase about dislocated shoulder joints during kite courses. I’m not at all surprised if you let beginners out in such a wind. Everyone I see coming back has an interesting facial expression somewhere between awe, fear and anger.

Only about 20 kiters go out the whole day. Everyone gets kicked out at some point, including me. Unintentional kiteloop at 20 knots. Great flight, hard landing. I play catch with the waves. Some catch me cleanly. The freaks jump in 10 cm deep water in front of the even heavier waves south of seven metres and more. I head towards Essaouira. All the forums say that the north wind is so gusty because of the turbulence caused by the old town. I don’t think so. 300 metres from the first buildings in Essaouira, the wind is hardly more gusty than 1.5 km further south. After two times an hour, I’ve had enough… completely flat.

Third day. The wind dies down. The flags on the beach no longer rattle louder than the quads next to them. I go out on the water for another two hours at a comfortable 14 to 18 knots. Few waves, good for heating up. By late afternoon I’ve had enough. Pack up the kite and head home.

Important tip for all kiters: never leave your lines exposed in Essaouira! The dromedary paws are still quite soft. The horse hooves are a bit harder. But the quads are really bad, especially the ones with blind tourists on them. They heat up all over them. At one point, lines are wrapped around the tyres, a second quad biker is hurtling at 30 km/h in lines under tension. A funny noise, but not nice to look at. Watch out for the occasional shards of glass on the beach!