One year later

I was working outside on the land of my friend Bert, when news started coming in about surfers gone missing in Scheveningen. It had been a stormy day in May. Wind had been coming from the North and a thick layer of foam had accumulated near the jetty. At the end of that horrible day, three surfers had drowned and two were still missing.

That evening I started to feel sick. I got feverish. I lay in my bed sweating the whole night. I decided to go to Scheveningen the next day to grief together with the surfing community.

That freak accident is still very present in the minds of the Dutch surfing community. A year later, it only makes sense to remember and honour those five strong men who lost their lives that day.

Me and my collegues decided to have a little swim in our beloved North Sea today. The sky was heavy with rain, almost as if nature was weeping. A windless sea made for a spooky vibe.

As we lay our flowers on the sea surface, we had a moment of silence. A hug, followed by relief. We started playing around in the water and a seal popped up, curious and playfull. It checked us out for at least a minute. A second one popped up a little further out. A third one. At one point we had five different seals all around us. Five. Coincidence? Don’t think so.

Rewind to a week ago. i was visiting a spiritual healer. Why? Why not. We can always use some healing time and I just finished an intense month of working on the island. Somewhere during my session the healer asked me if I had lost a friend recently. Blond haired. His presence was felt. The only one I could think of was Joost. The friend I never met. One of the five surfers that lost their lives in Scheveningen. Since that day last year I’ve felt a strong connection to Joost. He must have been a guy like me. It could have been me that day.

That thought will stay with me for the rest of my life. We won’t forget about you watermen.