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by Abdallah AOURIK 

Imsouane, december 1998 

Three years ago, (1995), during the winter night, I happened to be at Imssouane, a Berber fishing village located half way between Essaouira and Agadir-Morocco. 

It was around midnight, I had just finished adding few retouches on my new painting, I went to the door of the studio-gallery, Alknus; I sat on the edge of a cliff facing the ocean for fresh air. Suddenly my eyes were caught by a dark spot moving between the sand and the water. As the full moon lit the area, so bright like day light, I couldn’t gather what it wa. At first l thought it was a fishermen coming from next village, Tildi, located on the other side of the sea. My attention was not fully focussed on the moving spot at that moment, because of seawater sparkling with the silver light of the moon shining like diamonds and precious pearls. Under a sky where few stars could barely be seen, while sea waves rolling from small to big ones, then higher up to 8 meters, the sea became rough and strong tides smashing the rocks of the reef.

It was the kind of tides bad for fishermen, but good ones for surfers 

There on the beach, standing a dark spot, a human being holding a long surfboard; it was hard to distinguish who he might be, since the village is deserted, I was there all by myself, and that surfer wondering how to slide, like a toreador wondering how to face a Toro.

I kept watching that mysterious wave lover who started to step with his surfboard in the water and lied on it, then started to row with his arms inside the sea toward the big wave, as he rowed, more waves pushed him back, but he resisted by keeping further to reach the beginning of the big wave he wanted to surf on. By the time he came to my level near the cliff where I was sitting, I then could distinguish the gentleman surfer. 

He was white man, Anglo-saxon type long blond hair,

He was sitting on his board and waited for the seventh wave to come to him.

Who might he be? To surf from this point to the beach is quite long distance; he must be a real pro to challenge the waves at this time of the night in such rough sea; he surely was highly stoned to take a risk surfing those high waves, in the middle of the night, lucky the moon was shining like day light.

For about 10 minutes, he stood on his board and then swang at the start of the huge wave and surfed with it; I could ee him disappear in the tube or tunnel of the wave, for a while I believed he was crashed by tonnes of water; further on to near the beach I saw him reappear standing on his board to the finish line on the beach; it was on for at least 8 minutes of surfing with one single wave.

It was amazing show and a performance of unknown surfer, I witnessed alone. I then screamed loudly to him : -You did it body, you, «Midnight moon light surfer».

I wanted to go to congratulate him, but he was so far away, I had to walk and climb up and down rocks to reach the other side of Imssouane beach. 

I went back to my studio gallery and write this story under candle light, because this fishermen ‘s village had no running water nore electric light.

At sun rise, I went to the parking lot and found only one Landover with an Australian licence plate, inside, the surfer was sleeping, I did not want to wake him up to congratulate him, I wrote in charcoal on a piece of wood, -You are the greatest surfer I ever saw in Imsouane, congratulation, you are the Midnight moon light surfer, I left the message on the windshield of his car and I left. In my memory I never forget what I saw that night. 

Later on I learned Australia has a similar beach like Imssouane’s and the midnight moon light surfer has left his country to surfer on all the seas of the world.

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