(HUMOR) Innovative entrepreneurs cash in on disaster tourism

Editor’s note: The following story is part of Xpress’ annual Humor Issue. None of the individuals reported on in the article are real. This is a satirical piece that is not meant to be taken seriously. Happy New Year. 

Most Western North Carolina locals would probably agree that the days and weeks immediately following Tropical Storm Helene were no vacation. Yet some short-term rental owners and other businesspeople have found creative ways to tap into the curiosity of outsiders keen to get a taste of post-Helene experiences many locals would rather forget. From stripped-down Airbnb stays to unconventional tasting menus, area entrepreneurs are developing income streams that cater to disaster tourists.

‘No-brainer’

Haw Creek ceramicist and farmer Pat Smith says that in the first days following the storm, she and her wife, Chris Jones, were at a loss as to how they were going to make ends meet through the coming fall and winter. The couple’s annual crop of heirloom, organic micropumpkins was obliterated just before harvest when the minifarm’s half-acre field was damaged by flooding and downed trees. 

Without running water, Smith’s business making custom, wood-fired ceramic napkin rings for local restaurants was also put on hold. And the couple’s other income stream — a yurt on their property that they used as a vacation rental — seemed an unlikely source of revenue amid the devastation. 

But in early October, while volunteering to do storm cleanup in the River Arts District, a light bulb switched on. “There were all these cars with out-of-state plates cruising down Lyman Street, people getting out, walking around and taking pictures,” says Smith. “I started thinking, ‘They don’t seem to mind all the destruction, and they need a place to stay.’”

“We thought it wouldn’t hurt to at least put it out there and see what happened,” says Jones. “It seemed like a no-brainer.”

Pre-Helene, the couple billed the well-appointed yurt on short-term rental websites as a luxury glamping opportunity. But their disaster tourism spin promotes it as a chance to “experience life after the hurricane in WNC.” The yurt now features a total lack of running water, no electricity or Wi-Fi and an outdoor pit toilet with a seat fashioned from an old camp chair and a piece of plywood. 

For guests dubious about the outdoor facilities, Jones notes, the tiny stream that flooded the farm’s micropumpkin field is just a short hike away for outdoor bathing and filling a 5-gallon bucket (provided with the rental) for flushing the yurt’s indoor toilet. 

A propane grill and firepit are available for cooking outside the yurt, and guests are invited to fill coolers with ice, charge phones, grab Wi-Fi and pick up bottled water, canned goods and military MREs from the rental’s “donation site” — a small farm shed up the road that’s connected to electricity.

Much to the surprise of Smith and Jones, the concept was an immediate hit. “I mean, we’re charging $300 a night for this yurt with absolutely no amenities whatsoever, and it’s booked almost every day through the new year,” says Smith. “It’s batsh*t crazy, but we’re not complaining.”

The real experience

Though John Ataboy spends most of the year living in Decatur, Ga., where he works in sports promotions, curiosity spurred him to visit Asheville immediately after Helene. As the owner of two luxury cabins he uses as short-term rental properties in South Asheville, he says, he became aware of the challenges WNC locals were experiencing from vacationers who’d been staying at one of the homes when the storm hit. 

“Even though the water never even went out [at the Arden rental], there was no electricity, and man, they were, like, out of there as soon as a road opened up,” says Ataboy with a laugh. But his interest was piqued. “From the news, it seriously sounded like some kind of messed up video game situation up there. I really wanted to know how people were even surviving.” 

He took a few days off work to drive up to the area and check it out. When a TikTok post he made about the trip went viral, he realized the new moneymaking potential of the two rentals he had previously thought dead in the water due to the disaster. 

“People were all like, what’s it like? How do you take a shower? Where do you charge your phone? Stuff like that. And I was, like, I can do something with this.”

Ataboy turned off water, electricity and internet access to both cabins. Inspired by the community relief work done by volunteer group West Asheville Dry Toilet Co. after the storm, he commissioned a contractor friend to build him a couple of similar 5-gallon bucket toilet systems. And he then began promoting his rentals online (priced at $450 per night, plus cleaning fees) as “Real-life Helene Disaster Experiences.” 

Ataboy says he keeps the cabin’s kitchens stocked with bottled water and “the kind of random snacks and canned crap you find at those donation places.” Bathrooms are equipped with the bucket-and-sawdust toilet systems and pouches of baby wipes for hygiene. 

For an upcharge, guests can select premium add-ons like having a neighbor’s generator running incessantly or audio of helicopters piped into the homes at random times. A partnership with local Econoline van tour company Vananarama allows guests to do picnic trips to major flooding sites around the region. And through a collaboration with Charleston, S.C., chef Tiny Peebles, guests can opt to have personalized MRE tasting flights or “World Central Kitchen-inspired” prix fixe menus served by candlelight in their rental’s dining room, complete with curated pairings of warm beer, soda or bottled water.

“It’s really taken off,” Ataboy told Xpress by telephone from his office in Atlanta. “I had no idea there were so many people out there who’d want to pay to be dirty and uncomfortable, but you’d be surprised. I’ve had people come from as far away as Germany and China.”

Mountain vacation

One of those people is Chad Butter, a financial adviser and self-described “extremely avid adventurer and outdoorsman” from Lake Norman, N.C. Though his wife, Ashley Butter, says she had hoped to stay at The Inn on Biltmore Estate or The Omni Grove Park Inn for the family’s long-planned Thanksgiving vacation to Asheville, she was swayed by her husband’s enthusiasm for trying Ataboy’s Helene experience.

“He was so passionate about doing the ‘disaster realness’ thing,” she says, seated in a bentwood rocking chair in the murky light of the cabin’s expansive, high-ceilinged living room. “I miss taking a shower and being able to wash my hands, but at least we’re supporting the local economy — the deal is, I get to do a lot of shopping on this trip.”

The younger of the Butters’ two daughters, Ryen, age 9, says she enjoyed the van tour, where her family “saw a bunch of ginormous stinky piles of dead trees and rocks and stuff.” She’s also enthusiastic about eating MREs and learning how to heat them herself with the heater packs — chili mac is her favorite, so far. 

But she laments the lack of internet and running water. “That bucket toilet is literally the grossest thing ever,” she says. “I made my dad drive me all the way to the supermarket to that truck with the water pipes to fill a bucket with water so we can flush the actual toilet.”

Older daughter Ivy, 14, expresses general displeasure with the whole experience. Though she’s unable to connect to Wi-Fi, she’s sitting in the family’s Cadillac Escalade charging her phone and scowling into the passenger-side makeup mirror. 

“They told us we were going on vacation to the mountains,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But this is trash. What a rip-off. I mean, who pays money to subject your family to something this stupid?”