The following poem, written by a Dutch writer, called Albe, and hereafter translated by Arthur Toran, was printed on the card in memory of Bavo:
A bird of paradise
flew lost on the horizon,
a black spot
on the gold of the sun.
The glow of the sun
was growing deep red.
Then the bird fell dead.
Do not say of this bird,
too proud was it's flight,
perhaps it's nest
was nearby paradise.
Here follows the story of the accident on 18th of April 2011, told by Bavo's brother (29) who survived the accident. The story was told by Bart shortly after the accident has happened. We included it in the booklet on his memory, set up on the occasion of the farewell ceremony.
That morning the resort was bathing in the sun, and so was our cabin. We spent some time at breakfast, enjoying the view on the paradise like valley below, in the midst of which a silver river was running towards the ocean. Bavo noted that the world seemed to be endless over there: "How cool would it be to walk to the other side of that hill one day, just to have a break, and to keep on dreaming that this is your garden!"
The days before we hadn't seen much sunshine. Therefore our one and only goal of that day was an easy going afternoon at the seaside. A nice pathway led us to the river. There we took a boat to reach the other side of the water, where an endless sandy beach was waiting for us. We got the boat on the bank and − being a real scout leader − Bavo insisted on taking it far enough on the shore so that it could not be reached by upcoming water.
We crossed the beach to the sea. Bavo took our stuff to a safe place somewhat further on. Then we walked towards the water. The sea looked quiet and we assured ourselves of the flood-tide. Somewhat further on some tourists came out of the water. A bunch of children carrying heavy bags, were walking along the shoreline looking for more mussels. They ran away when we were getting nearer, leaving their bags behind. Bavo picked up some of the mussels that had fallen out of the bags, and put them back. The kids noticed this and returned. The eldest one came to say hello to Bavo. I felt so proud.
Then I walked into the water, and Bavo followed me. The resort owners had given us a small body board, which we carried along. We proceeded until we didn't feel the seabed anymore. There I tried to catch the surf with my body board, but I immediately noticed that it was much too light to carry my weight.
At that moment Bavo indicated that we had to get back. I could tell from his eyes that he didn't trust the situation anymore. I agreed, and that was right: despite our efforts to get back, we didn't seem to get nearer to the shore. It seemed as if the sea was ebbing. I understood that we were in danger and told Bavo about my thoughts. He waited for me and proposed that we both leaned on the body board. That appeared to be of no use because of the too small limit load of the board. I told Bavo to take the board and to swim, to keep on swimming. Only a few seconds later a giant wave knocked me over. I could not help being pulled down, seconds on end. But finally the current lost grip, and I could recover. First everything was all black: I couldn't tell the difference between up and down. But I swam, and it was in the right direction, so it seemed, because only a few seconds later, I saw the sunlight peeping through the water. I felt I had to hurry to reach the surface, but I managed. The sea looked quieter again and I looked for Bavo. I couldn't see him, and started to swim towards shore convinced that I would find him on the beach.
But Bavo was not on the shore and he didn't come.
Afterwards they told us that there was spring tide, and that rip currents occur. Swimming should have been forbidden. Nobody had told us about the tide, nor about any other danger of getting into the ocean without lifeguards being around. There were no beach signs telling us about the ocean hazards that might be present. We had no idea of these dangers.
Bart Verheyden
A bird of paradise
flew lost on the horizon,
a black spot
on the gold of the sun.
The glow of the sun
was growing deep red.
Then the bird fell dead.
Do not say of this bird,
too proud was it's flight,
perhaps it's nest
was nearby paradise.
Here follows the story of the accident on 18th of April 2011, told by Bavo's brother (29) who survived the accident. The story was told by Bart shortly after the accident has happened. We included it in the booklet on his memory, set up on the occasion of the farewell ceremony.
That morning the resort was bathing in the sun, and so was our cabin. We spent some time at breakfast, enjoying the view on the paradise like valley below, in the midst of which a silver river was running towards the ocean. Bavo noted that the world seemed to be endless over there: "How cool would it be to walk to the other side of that hill one day, just to have a break, and to keep on dreaming that this is your garden!"
The days before we hadn't seen much sunshine. Therefore our one and only goal of that day was an easy going afternoon at the seaside. A nice pathway led us to the river. There we took a boat to reach the other side of the water, where an endless sandy beach was waiting for us. We got the boat on the bank and − being a real scout leader − Bavo insisted on taking it far enough on the shore so that it could not be reached by upcoming water.
We crossed the beach to the sea. Bavo took our stuff to a safe place somewhat further on. Then we walked towards the water. The sea looked quiet and we assured ourselves of the flood-tide. Somewhat further on some tourists came out of the water. A bunch of children carrying heavy bags, were walking along the shoreline looking for more mussels. They ran away when we were getting nearer, leaving their bags behind. Bavo picked up some of the mussels that had fallen out of the bags, and put them back. The kids noticed this and returned. The eldest one came to say hello to Bavo. I felt so proud.
Then I walked into the water, and Bavo followed me. The resort owners had given us a small body board, which we carried along. We proceeded until we didn't feel the seabed anymore. There I tried to catch the surf with my body board, but I immediately noticed that it was much too light to carry my weight.
At that moment Bavo indicated that we had to get back. I could tell from his eyes that he didn't trust the situation anymore. I agreed, and that was right: despite our efforts to get back, we didn't seem to get nearer to the shore. It seemed as if the sea was ebbing. I understood that we were in danger and told Bavo about my thoughts. He waited for me and proposed that we both leaned on the body board. That appeared to be of no use because of the too small limit load of the board. I told Bavo to take the board and to swim, to keep on swimming. Only a few seconds later a giant wave knocked me over. I could not help being pulled down, seconds on end. But finally the current lost grip, and I could recover. First everything was all black: I couldn't tell the difference between up and down. But I swam, and it was in the right direction, so it seemed, because only a few seconds later, I saw the sunlight peeping through the water. I felt I had to hurry to reach the surface, but I managed. The sea looked quieter again and I looked for Bavo. I couldn't see him, and started to swim towards shore convinced that I would find him on the beach.
But Bavo was not on the shore and he didn't come.
Afterwards they told us that there was spring tide, and that rip currents occur. Swimming should have been forbidden. Nobody had told us about the tide, nor about any other danger of getting into the ocean without lifeguards being around. There were no beach signs telling us about the ocean hazards that might be present. We had no idea of these dangers.
Bart Verheyden