Naucrates met Pavlos in Thailand and Thai people named him Pipap. He worked for the first time as research assistant in Ko Kho Khao about 15 years ago and since then he worked with us for many seasons. He was always ready to help and support the conservation effort in Thailand and around the world.
Pipap dedicated all his short life to make a big difference in sea turtle conservation. Since he start working in Athens sea turtle rescue center in Greece, he was not able to come and stay with us in Thailand as often as he was used to, but he still joined the annual meetings and helped us online many times.
He was very close to Naucrates, during the hit of the tsunami, when his friend Lisa was lost.
Last season, in 2017, he came back to Ko Phra Thong to help us. He brought a smile on the island meeting with all his Thai friends.
Pipap was a man with a lot of enthusiasm, always positive and ready to fight to save a turtle. He was generous and full of energy. We miss him dearly as he made the world a better place.
I really do not know how to deal with this, where have you gone?
I will never forget your smiling face and your enthusiasm. You were always present, ready to help and to support conservation in any difficult situation.
I will never forget the time we spent together talking about turtle conservation, strategies and ideas to put in place.
You made a difference in the world, you will be always in our heart.
Thank you Pipap for all what you have done for us.
The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me
That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.
Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.
For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life’s endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.
Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;
Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.
Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.
Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.
And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow