After a long photo editing session, I often find myself scouring Google Earth late into the night. I am mildly obsessed with trying to find new places and locations to shoot in Saudi Arabia. Last year, my Google Earth wanderings brought me to the Al Fahad Shipwreck located south of Jeddah. The word ‘shipwreck’ carries romantic connotations of adventure and exploration and secrets locked deep under the sea. But, Al Fahad is no secret. In fact, a Google Map search of Al Fahad will bring it right up - along with a handful of selfies from the wreck that squats just off shore. The boat, originally called the MV Free Enterprise III, was built in 1966 in the Netherlands, sold in 1986 to an Egyptian company that renamed it Al Fahad, and the vessel foundered in 2004 due to engine problems. Since then it has slowly decayed in the Red Sea while fish and marine life have found sanctuary in its damaged quarters. The drive to Al Fahad amplified the usual anticipation of exploring the unknown. Just south of Jeddah the street lights disappear and the path darkens; the apartments and office buildings slowly fade away and a large wall of black swallows the road just beyond the reach of the headlights. I turned the music off and embraced the quiet. My plan was to reach Al Fahad just before sunrise and, for some reason, even though I knew other people had been there and the GPS was clearly showing roads straight out to the thing - I had this sense of foreboding. There is something about driving to a shipwreck at 4am that feels haunting. Would there be other people out there? How low would the tide be? Would I be able to walk right out to it? Swim out to it? Climb aboard? Would it finally tip all the way over while I was standing there watching it? No one actually died when the ship hit bottom, but I still had that feeling like I was approaching a graveyard.
Just after 5am the call to prayer broke the silence, and my thoughts.. An hour later the first hints of daylight began to creep over the horizon. The black skies slowly giving way to the first deep blues of sunrise, soft pinks quickly following. I turned off the highway and started down a paved road that eventually crumbled away into hard packed dirt. I peered into the darkness as the Red Sea drew closer and strained my eyes to find the wreck. I approached slowly. The dirt road disappeared and a maze of tire tracks zigzagged through the crusty sand leading to the water's edge. The Al Fahad came into view just before sunrise as a ball of mushy grey sinking into soft aqua blues. I slowed to a crawl and turned off my headlights and my eyes adjusted to the ambient light, and that’s when I realized I was definitely not alone. Not at all. It turns out the ghosts of Al Fahad are alive and well.
6 Comments
11/24/2017 04:08:17 am
This is great work Roger. Clear to see your talent and passion for your craft. Well done. I enjoyed reading this.
Reply
Kristin
11/24/2017 04:27:34 am
Thanks for sharing this, Roger. Incredible photos and descriptions-- looking forward to more posts like this!
Reply
Brenda S Collins
11/24/2017 05:41:52 pm
Beautiful, I'm eager to hear the rest of the story!
Reply
Sal A.
1/29/2020 08:43:41 pm
Feels like I woke up from a dream and found a long lost friend. Yes, Al Fahad. She was a beauty as I navigated her as the 3rd Officer/Mate along and across the Red Sea. Like Moses, we cut the Red Sea.Our Home port is Jeddah(Saudi Arabia) and our port of call is Suez(Egypt) and Port Sudan(Africa).We carried passengers, cars, trucks and farm produce. She was well maintained by Filipino, Indonesian, Egyptian, Eritrean Officers and Crew.
Reply
Roger Gribbins
2/11/2020 08:35:27 am
Hello Sal - thank you for lovely comment. It is amazing to hear from someone who actually had a hand in this vessel when she was still sailing.
Reply
Sal A.
2/25/2020 09:00:40 pm
You're very welcome Roger! Keep up with a great Photography. Peace and all best wishes. Leave a Reply. |
AuthorRoger Gribbins is a photographer currently living near Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. Archives
February 2019
Categories |