THE ROAD ENDS HERE! THE MOTLEY CREW THURSO

THE ROAD ENDS HERE! THE MOTLEY CREW THURSO

ONE OF THE MOST RIDICULOUS ROAD TRIPS EVER!

When John Carter and Timo Mullen team up, you can usually expect some level of chaos. But this time, they’ve truly outdone themselves! What started out as Timo eyeing up a dartboard low on the weather map, quickly escalated into a ridiculous 1,400-mile round-trip sprint to chase a 6.5m swell and 50-knot winds in Thurso, Scotland. Armed with an fragile tripod, an unsuspecting cocker spaniel and just enough time to make it back for a Sunday lunch rendezvous, the Motley Crew redefined the phrase “strike mission” and probably broke several laws of logic in the process.

Words and photos: John Carter.

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ADVENTURE BREWING

When the last trophies were lifted at the closing party in Japan at the PWA foil slalom finals, it marked the official wrap up of my photography season. After a gruelling fourteen-hour flight back from Tokyo, I finally landed back in London, eager for some well-earned downtime with my family. But as I collected my bags at Heathrow, my phone buzzed; a WhatsApp message from Timo Mullen. I hadn’t even set foot in my house yet, and I already knew what this meant; another wild adventure was brewing.

I wasn’t wrong. The message was a screenshot of the forecast for Thurso in three days, predicting monster 6.5m waves and 40-50 knot northwest winds scheduled for Saturday.

Normally, I’d ignore a message like that for at least a day or two (I get about three a week from Timo!). But Thurso has always had a special place in my heart; it can be a dream location to shoot, despite the monumental effort it takes to get there. But…even if I was tempted to go, there was one potential stumbling block; my wife had already arranged a 2 p.m. lunch with friends on Sunday. If I didn’t make it back in time for that… well, let’s just say there would be consequences.

As I rode home in the taxi, I gave Timo a call to hear him out. Over the years, we’ve pulled off some ridiculous travel missions; driving many hours each way for just a few hours of sailing isn’t unheard of. But this plan? This one outdid them all.

THE PLAN

Here’s what Timo had in mind; we’d leave for Thurso on Friday, drive for 12 hours (with barely any stops, of course), sail all day Saturday in monstrous conditions, and then, wait for it; jump straight back into the car after the session to drive another 12 hours back home. All in time for Sunday morning commitments. I’m no stranger to intense travel schedules, but even I had to admit this was pushing it.

Three days later I was committed and was even issued the green light from my wife just as long as I was back by midday Sunday. Timo had been busy with logistics and rented a car, which he had worked out would be far cheaper than taking his gas guzzling van, even with the car rental cost included. So, we would be travelling in style, or so I thought…

The crazy mission finally kicked off at Southampton ferry port at 11 am on Friday where we met up ready for the 700-mile journey to the very north of Scotland. The plan was to drive as far as Inverness (580 miles) where we would grab a few hours sleep in a Travelodge and then finish the journey of in the morning to Thurso. The first minor glitch was the fact my bags would not even fit in the car which was already full to the brim with boards, sails, masts and booms. Once we had achieved what I thought was the impossible, I opened the front door ready to get comfy, only to be greeted by Timo’s cocker spaniel Freddie who was sprawled out on the front seat. My dreams of a luxurious drive quickly evaporated…It was clear the word luxury was no longer on the agenda. As we hit the road the first words I said to Timo was… “You do know we are absolutely insane to be doing this!” “Yep”, he replied “but these are the days I live for!”.

With Timo at the wheel, we eventually made it to Inverness that night, slept for about four hours and were up at 6am on Saturday morning ready to hit Scotland.

JOHN O’ GROATS

So, by 8am we were battling with 50 knots winds while trying to take the obligatory selfies with the famous John o’ Groats sign. Looking out at the sea state in the background, the conditions looked extreme and there was a tonne of swell breaking out on the islands in the distance.

This was going to be mental day up in Scotland that is for sure. After a quick stop at Thurso Tesco for much-needed bacon and sausage baps (5 star Motley Crew rating!), plus supplies for the day, we headed to a spot we call the Spur (Murkle on the map) which is on the road out of town towards Dunnet Head.

THE SPUR

We now had one last rugged track to navigate to finally reach what we had come all this way for. There was a tiny parking area at the end of the road, with barely enough room for one or two vehicles, although on a day like this we knew we would be the only ones there. We were greeted by hailstones the size of golf balls, a traditional Thurso welcome!

Out on the huge horseshoe reef, which is just across the bay from the launch point the waves were rifling down the point. I had brought my drone with me hoping to get an aerial view of the set up but with the wind still exceeding 50 knots, it would have to stay in the bag for another day. It was biting cold of course. This was Scotland in a wild north westerly gale. The car temp was saying 5-6 degrees but outside it may have been less. Timo waisted no time getting suited and booted and rigged up his 3.7m Duotone Super_Hero plugged into his smallest 87L D/Lab Grip 4. I prepared for my own battle with the elements, armed three jackets, waterproof trousers, wellington boots, gloves and my trusty Sooruz woolly hat! As for Teddie, he was happy as Larry foraging around in the Scottish dunes after that long journey to the wild coast of Scotland.

SHOWTIME

Finally, it was showtime. The tide was still a little high, but after watching the full moon slip behind the clouds, we knew it would drop quickly. The waves were relentless, crashing against the rocks where I’d normally walk along the beach. Instead, I had to navigate a few farmer’s fields to reach the spur. After getting tangled in a barbed-wire fence, I made it to my vantage point, where I wrestled against the howling wind to set up my tripod and big lens.

From my perch, I could see Timo battling the elements, occasionally flattened by the ferocious 50-knot gusts. Watching him out there, a question crossed my mind: are we completely mad, especially Timo? Perhaps. But it’s this shared madness that drives us to such extremes. We’d driven through the night for this moment. I can’t think of another windsurfer as dedicated as Timo, always chasing the perfect conditions no matter the cost. His determination is unmatched, and it’s moments like these that remind me why we do it; why we brave the gales, the cold, and the seemingly insurmountable challenges. But in the moment, you feel alive.

LIGHT SHOW

For the next two hours as the tide raced out the conditions kept improving. We were treated to bursts of spectacular light as the sun occasionally broke free from the fast-moving clouds, casting a golden glow over the scene. At the beginning Timo was struggling to make it right up to the peak, but eventually found his rhythm and dropped into some insane mast and a half high tartan walls. Meanwhile on the reef I was dealing with my own issues. I had noticed my tripod head was a little bit wobblier than it should be but at least it was still functional. After capturing the first four or five waves, disaster struck; the bolt holding the tripod together snapped clean in two. Brilliant, just what I needed.

Improvising, I managed to balance the lens precariously on the tripod, but it felt shaky and nerve-wracking the entire time I was shooting. Meanwhile, Timo was having a blast out there, carving up wave after massive wave. I reckon he clocked up around twenty waves by the time he headed back to the launch. There had been no big airs or crazy 360’s so far, but I think just the thrill of riding those towering walls and surviving was enough to make him stoked.

Back at base we regrouped, the dog got fed and we grabbed our own snacks, while we made the next plan of attack! When you travel with Timo, you know darn well he is never going to come all this way for a solitary session on the water.

After a few phone calls to Ross Williams and Hamper, Timo’s local surfer friend, we decided to go sail a new spot up the coast. Despite several trips to Thurso over the years, this particular spot had always eluded us. But today, it seemed, was finally the day to tick it off the list.

POINT BREAK

Half an hour later we were on top of the cliffs at a point further up the coast, where we could just about make out a perfect point break set up, with waves reeling down the point in the distance. The only slight issue was access as what we were seeing was at least a mile was across boulders with no easy footpath.

Despite the obstacles, the conditions were too perfect to let any hurdles in the way stop us, so we decided to go for it. By this time, it was already 2pm so we only had a couple of hours before dark. There was simply no time to waste procrastinating.

Armed with my two-trusty canon R5’s and my not so trusty broken tripod, I started the long hike to the point, while Timo rigged his 4.2m ready for the next round of action.

It took me a solid forty-five minutes of hard graft to get into position. Every step I had to fully concentrate as the boulders were covered in slimy weed and were incredibly slippery. Timo finally appeared from the launch area and made his way up to the break where Hamper and two other surfers were already scoring the clean peeling waves. The set up was perfect. Side off wind, butter smooth waves and just enough wind to navigate around the reef.

Meanwhile I had managed to get further acquainted with my sketchy tripod situation, somehow making it work to grab the shots. Timo was clocking into some epic rides and we even lucked out on a brief moment of sunshine during one of the biggest sets.

Finally, after a solid hour and a half on the water, with a rain squall marking the end of the session, Timo kicked off his last wave and headed back downwind.

I now just had that treacherous walk back across the boulders to navigate, this time made extra slippery by that fresh batch of rain. Sure enough, halfway back I lost my footing and crashed to the ground. Luckily my camera gear was unscathed, but I slammed my back into a boulder which had me screaming obscenities I can’t write down here!

Eventually we both made it back to the car, both physically exhausted from the day’s activities. Under all of my layers, my t-shirt was soaked with sweat but none the less I felt some sense of achievement that we had scored up in Thurso and all that effort had been worth it.

Timo was also on a high after sailing two different but equally thrilling sessions.

HOMEBOUND

All that was left now was a mere twelve-hour drive home. We calculated that if we booked a Travelodge about halfway home, it would give us four hours sleep and still get us back in time for the next days commitments.

To pass the time, we kept ourselves entertained with some spirited (full blown arguments and overly competitive) quiz games and made a welcome pit stop in Inverness for a roast dinner with Andy Groom and his wife; a much-needed break that felt like a godsend.

By 1am we hit the Travelodge at Carlisle. We were both exhausted and crashed for three precious hours beauty sleep before the alarm rudely awakened us, signalling the time to hit the road again.

The final few hours of the journey were brutal, but Timo finally dropped me at Southampton right on schedule to catch my ferry home to make my 1.30pm curfew!

Reflecting on the journey, we had been on a grand adventure, experienced the raw elements of north coast of Scotland and survived to tell the tale.

Who knows when the next time the phone will beep, but I am sure there will plenty more crazy escapades like this to come!

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