No booze, no food, no smoking, no sinful speech and no waves in sight. Doesnʼt really sound like the components of an all-time surf trip does it? However, from very early on in the month, it was apparent that it was more than just the muslim community that would be observing the religious practices of Ramadan.

The swell was small and even the non-believers were praying to all kinds of heavenly deities. But it was no use. Day after day, the southerly devil winds ripped on through. And while the locals may have been polite, sober and adhering to their beliefs, surfers at every camp and aboard every boat had nothing else to do but eat, drink and cuss at the lack of waves.

Pitstops and the lefts at Beng Bengs, Hideaways and Kandui were pretty much all that was on offer. Any tasty morsels that managed to roll down the reefs were quickly snapped up by the squabbling masses like seagulls fighting over a salty chip. But there was hardly enough to feed all the hungry mouths in the Island chain. Things were getting desperate.

But there was a light at the end of the tunnel. As the month drew to an end and muslim families all over were preparing for the festivities, so too were we. The Indian ocean was cooking up one hell of a feast.

When it hit our shores it was like a full on buffet. Surfers were free to choose their surf spots like reading a menu. The sight of macking E-bay, Kandui and Hideaways even had the locals breaking the rules and dropping expletives. Solid 8 ftʼers and bigger were on offer for those hungry enough. And while some stuffed themselves by stuffing themselves into endless pits, others bit off more than they could chew and were left with heartburn... and reef rash.

By the end of it, there was a lot of cleaning up to be done. Step-up boards and broken quivers were packed away, snapped and stretched leggies were thrown in the trash and surfers washed up and tended to their wounds. The fast had been broken and and everyone was full and content.

Now if you donʼt mind, we need to go for a lay down while we digest...

Words and photos by John Barton of Pitstop Hill Resort.