Book Review: Barbarian Days

A little more than a year ago I got around to reading Barbarian Days: A Surfing Life by William Finnegan. It was recommended to me as an essential surf read if one was aspiring to be a surfer. To learn more about surf culture and surf stoke. 

Of course my curiosity was piqued: I was still very green to the world of surfing when Barbarian Days: A Surfing Life was waved in front of my eyes. I mean, I still am very green, but have a slightly broader and deeper understanding of surfing in the meantime. 

It was sold to me as a really good read and relevant to my life because it mentioned Morocco. Naturally, I dove right in and scoured the story for any mention and connection between surfing and Morocco. 

There wasn’t any. 

There was a passing comment about Marrakech halfway through the book, and any surfing mentioned in relation to Africa revolved around South Africa. 

When I wrote a blog post for Local Surf Maroc about Barbarian Days I felt I downplayed my disappointment a lot. I still don’t understand why the particular person hyped up Morocco in the book a lot. But I did my best to overlook it and appreciate the story and the stoke for what it was. 

Barbarian Days is actually a great book, and a great personal account of surf life before it became as commonplace as it is today. William Finnegan recounts his youth of being a misfit but finding solace and connection through surfing in Hawaii. Not only does he paint a picture of Hawaii quite vividly, but he describes through anecdotes a time before surfing was popular and accessible to everyone. 

As William Finnegan moved through life, and around the world, he continues to describe the evolution of surfing through his personal experiences. Not simply the attitudes of the general populace, but also the technical aspects of surfing, from leashes to fins to surfboard materials. To be honest, until I read “Barbarian Days” I had no idea that leashes weren’t part of surfing in the early days. 

When I met Rachid in Taghazout Bay in 2017, the Bay looked very different than it does today. In 5 short years the whole area has been transformed from sleepy fishing villages to bustling hubs of tourism. The first time I travelled out to Imi Ouaddar from Agadir the new road that passed by Taghazout hadn’t even been paved yet and now it reaches Tamri. 

Development of an area for tourism comes with pros and cons in equal measure. Yes, it’s good that Taghazout and the Bay is becoming so well known and with tourists comes money. With investment comes infrastructure. With development comes opportunities for advancement. 

On the flip side, tourists take up the space that locals have used for their livelihood. Fishing spots are crowded with swimmers and surfers and beaches are littered with garbage. Tourists get upset that fishing nets obstruct the best waves and surfers must be mindful of the small fishing boats coming to dock. Nevermind that they were here first, learning how to read the waves for survival and not for leisure. 

Development not only brings better infrastructure: better roads and more amenities, but also inflated living costs. The price of food has nearly doubled and the cost of housing has increased almost tripled while the wages have remained nearly the same over the last 5 years. People were already struggling to live in the given circumstances 5 years ago and now it would seem almost impossible. 

For local surfers who have grown up in Taghazout bay, finding an uncrowded spot to surf has been a rarity. Before COVID-19 shut down the world and sent Morocco into one of the most reactive countries when variants and cases rise, I was told that between Agadir and Essaouira there were more than 300 surf camps. I believed it because every week I saw another one popping up on Instagram. Each surf camp would bring its guests to the same surf spots making it impossible to catch a wave to surf, never mind trying to learn how to surf. 

Taghazout Bay, Morocco in 2021, after the development of resorts.

And not every guest had the same respect for the ocean and local culture as the local surfers would have hoped. Since Taghazout Bay’s development, some surf spots have become inaccessible and will fade into the abyss of surfing memory. With the proposed future plans, it looks like the fate of other surf spots will be the same. Living on only in the older generation of surfers.

I give this example because it mirrors some of the experiences William Finnegan had while travelling the world during his surf adventures. He travelled to places that have since succumbed to the temptation of tourism. The towns and beaches are unrecognizable to what William described when he first visited them, and surf spots have disappeared entirely because of the development of various industries. 

Despite knowing that Taghazout Bay’s fate is not insular, that this pattern has been repeated many times around the world has not provided me with much comfort. 

On the other hand, living in Newquay has given me some hope. The city expands along the coast and encompases surf spots that aren’t necessarily easy to reach, but despite development and tourism, nature is preserved and appreciated. Urban, rural, and nature are capable of living side by side and my hope is that Taghazout Bay will reach this in its life cycle. 

Fistral South, Fistral North, and Little Fistral in Newquay, Cornwall 2020.

Though the book has been described as a surfing memoir, I would describe it more as a self portrait where surfing was the medium of discovery and expression. William Finnegan captures moments of living as we age that we all can find relatable: experiences of being a misfit and not belonging, the feeling of infinite possibilities as young men and women, the realization that one moment in time will be at the top of our game, and difficult to accept reality that we are getting older and that our bodies will let us down much sooner than our minds will. 

It was a rather melancholic read, and do I recommend it? Yes. Because it was thoughtful, introspective, and well written. All the things I enjoy about non-fiction and memoirs. Is it the greatest book about surfing I have ever read? Hard to say since it was the first book about surfing I ever read. Maybe time will tell if Barbarian Days: A Surfing Life is actually worth the hype.