Although Juan Antonio Bayona drew inspiration for his poignant and award-winning film The Impossible from the Belón family, he could equally have derived it from the Heras-Salbidegoitia story. This family, of Basque heritage and residing in the south of Tenerife, encountered an experience that was as extraordinary as it was harrowing during the devastating tsunami of 2004 in the Indian Ocean, a calamity that marked its 20th anniversary this week, resulting in over 230,000 fatalities.
Amidst the devastation and grief, narratives arise that seem almost cinematic; tales in which fate, intuition, and mere minutes can make the difference between survival and demise. For the Heras-Salbidegoitia family, reality eclipsed fiction, granting them a remarkable second chance.
“We were saved by mere minutes,” reflects Marije Heras, mother of Haizea, Eider, and Iratxe, who, alongside her husband Xabier, endured an odyssey that still sends shivers down their spines upon remembrance. On December 26 of that year, as a tsunami wreaked havoc on the shores of southern Thailand, they were already safe, travelling on a bus bound for Bangkok. “We left the hotel at 7:30, and the tsunami struck at eight,” she recounts.
The Heras-Salbidegoitia family opted to spend December and Christmas in Southeast Asia, specifically in Khao Lak, a calm and idyllic resort town in southern Thailand. “We had plans to stay in beautiful bamboo cabins right on the beach. There wasn’t a hint of cement. It was paradise,” she explains. The entire trip seemed like a dream: stunning beaches, unique locations, and, above all, a memorable experience for their daughters. The evening prior to the tragic event, the family celebrated Christmas and enjoyed a serene night by the sea. Nonetheless, an unexplainable sensation lingered in the atmosphere.
“I recall the animals behaving unusually,” she mentions. The dogs, typically placid, barked incessantly. Even the fish in the water appeared to act strangely. However, the most astonishing behaviour was exhibited by Haizea, the youngest of their daughters. Throughout the holiday, she had spent hours playing in the sea, reveling in the water like any other child. Yet, on that particular day, almost as if foretelling the future, she firmly declined to get in. “’I don’t want to go into the water,’ she informed us. It struck me as odd, but I didn’t press her,” the mother recalls. “Now, in hindsight, I believe she sensed something.”
On the night of the 26th, Marije awoke feeling uneasy. Something felt amiss. She opted to rise and ensure that her daughters, who were staying in an adjacent cabin, were alright. She spent the night in the girls’ cabin, overwhelmed by a peculiar sense of vulnerability.
The Onset of a Catastrophe
The following morning, as planned, the family departed the hotel early, unaware of the impending disaster. They took a taxi to a bus station situated on higher ground, a detail Marije believes was crucial in keeping them safe and away from the chaos. “I recall the sky appearing red, but we didn’t think much of it. There were no reports, and we had no idea,” she states. From that point, they began a lengthy 13-hour journey to Bangkok, characterised by monotony and the relentless sounds of karaoke emanating from the bus’s speakers. “Meanwhile, the world crumbled behind us, and we remained oblivious,” she adds, still shaken by the ordeal they had left behind.
Upon reaching their destination, they turned on the television and were met with the first images of devastation. They could scarcely believe their eyes. “We recognised the beaches. They were utterly obliterated. The hotel where we were staying had been reduced to ruins,” Marije recalls. “It was shocking to see the casualty figures and realise that we had been just a few hours away. We felt fortunate, yet utterly heartbroken.”
“We knew that not everyone in our hotel had survived. We felt as if we had been reborn.” The last image etched in Marije’s memory is that of a German tourist walking towards the sea with a young child. “I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to them,” she confesses.
The Awareness of Animals
As time has passed, Marije has created a personal archive serving as a living testament to her experience: photographs, newspaper clippings, and news articles documenting the disaster and their miraculous escape. Upon their arrival at Madrid Airport, she remembers how the media awaited the affected families, seeking accounts of what transpired. “They interviewed us there,” she reflects while flipping through a newspaper article documenting the events.
In addition to the visual memorabilia, Marije preserves an exchange of emails with several individuals affected by that tragedy. Among these, a particularly poignant message stands out from the hotel manager where they stayed. The Irishman was the sole survivor of the team that had welcomed them warmly. “Mai and most of the staff perished,” he wrote in a tragic email that she cherishes dearly.
Among the most moving accounts came from an elephant trainer who used to escort tourists on walks in the area. According to him, his animals began to behave unusually. “They were all trumpeting, a sound I had never encountered before,” he recalls. During the tsunami, the animals employed their trunks to lift individuals and transport them to safety.
Numerous studies have shown how animals possess a heightened sensitivity towards detecting natural disasters. “It serves as a reminder of their connection to nature and the lessons we have yet to learn from them,” she reflects.
A Vital Lesson
Two years following the tsunami, the family made the decision to return to Thailand to commemorate the anniversary of the disaster. “It was an emotional experience. The region was still undergoing reconstruction, but we felt compelled to return to honour the victims,” she explains. There, numerous families inscribed the names of their deceased relatives in the sand of the local beaches, while tossing flowers into the sea. Since that time, the Heras-Salbidegoitia family has annually recognised December 26 as “their day of rebirth,” a significant birthday filled with meaning. “All five of us survived. We were spared from witnessing the tragedy first-hand, which has helped us to avoid significant trauma, especially for our daughters,” she shares.
The ordeal deeply impacted them, yet it imparted an essential message: “Life is singular, and we never truly know how much time we possess. We must seize every moment.”
Now, 20 years later, this narrative serves as a reminder of the fragility of our existence in this world and how, at times, fate offers us a new lease on life. While the media recalls the tsunami’s devastation with images and reports, this Basque family in Tenerife expresses gratitude each day for the schedule of their bus to Bangkok. “I prayed to Buddha as fervently as I could,” Marije concludes, her voice still rich with emotion. “And I believe he heard us,” she affirms.
