How does life look when you lose your direction, fall through the cracks and can’t find your way?
It is a sad story and might look like Antoni van Vliet, now living on the street, surviving by keeping the Nahoon Reef and Nahoon Corner car park and ablutions clean and relying on donations.
Van Vliet is doing a good job and, barring the rotting whale, the car park at Nahoon Reef is looking the best it has in years.
The man has raked, swept and cleaned up in and around the ablutions and even planted a small garden.
Broken glass he sweeps up and places in the bins.
Litter is picked up and put in the trash bins and surfers and beach goers are chipping in with donations to help him get along.
Van Vliet originally came from Durban, where his dad worked at Spoornet.
Tragically dad died when Van Vliet was nine years old and his mom moved with him and his brother to Gqeberha.
He matriculated in 1999 from Cillie High in Kempston Road. Van Vliet has become estranged from his family.
If you are a regular at Nahoon Reef, you will know Van Vliet, especially early in the morning.
Busy with his spade, he has cleared sand from the car park and placed it along the surfers’ path to walk on.
Early morning shad fisherman Charles Foster says: “Antoni is a most remarkable man, humble and the personification of genuine community love.”
Surfer Chris van Vuuren says: “Sometimes I surf at Nahoon Reef on my own and Antoni looks out for me and my car. I have tried to help him.”
Van Vliet carries his Bible with him and tells me that his life is hard and he is trying to come right.
That he can do with our prayers and help is clear.
Troubled by conspiracy theories, his thoughts and outlook are turbulent and a clear way forward is not easy to find.
Spare a thought for the man. A nod, a gesture, an acknowledgment, a few coins or a sandwich or a cool drink might go a long way.
“Thanks for the clean car park Antoni,” might bring more healing than you think.
Similarly, fishing friends might remember “Rusty”. A tall, lanky red-haired fellow, homeless, living and surviving along our coastline.
Rusty was often spotted fishing and sometimes selling his fish in Gonubie or Kidds Beach to get by.
He has not been around for some time now and I worry about him.
If anybody can tell me of his whereabouts and wellbeing, I would be pleased to know.
And then there is “Jannie” who has been homeless and who has generally hung round the beach for years.
Street life is hard and hungry and I feel for those who have been swallowed by the cracks.
My Bible tells me that I should feed the poor, but there just seem to be so many, even in the small sphere of just down at the beach I frequent.
The Wolraad Woltemade story about a Cape Dutch dairy farmer, who died while rescuing sailors from the wreck of the ship De Jonge Thomas in Table Bay, hangs anxiously at the back of my mind.
How much help can I offer? The situation seems insurmountable, but perhaps a little bit of encouragement can go a long way.
“Sawubona” — I see you. A sandwich and a prayer might be a kind place to start.
Daily Dispatch
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