“He asked if we were proud of him.” 💔
After waking up, Andre de Ruyter whispered from his hospital bed, surrounded by machines and bandages. His family said he wasn’t afraid of the wounds — he was afraid people would only remember him for what had happened underwater. A silent plea he uttered that night still echoed through their home…
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The harrowing wave of shark attacks that struck Sydney’s coastline in January 2026 claimed one young life and left others fighting for recovery, but amid the grief and trauma, stories of resilience and profound humanity continue to emerge. While 12-year-old Nico Antic tragically passed away on January 24 after his attack in Sydney Harbour, another victim from the same 48-hour cluster—27-year-old musician and surfer Andre de Ruyter—has begun a long road to physical and emotional healing.
Andre was mauled by a suspected bull shark while surfing alone at North Steyne Beach near Manly on the evening of January 19, 2026. The attack occurred just after 6 p.m., in conditions that appeared normal for a summer surf session—decent swells, no immediate signs of danger. Witnesses described the moment the shark struck his right leg with ferocious force, ripping through muscle, bone, and major blood vessels. Andre reportedly cried out in agony, “It’s eating me! It’s killing me!”—words that captured the visceral terror of the assault, likening it to a “horror movie” in later accounts.
He lost nearly all his blood in the water, going into cardiac arrest as bystanders and fellow surfers rushed to his aid. An extraordinary chain of events saved him: nearby surfers, including experienced locals, paddled out to assist, applying pressure to the wound while dragging him to shore. A stroke of luck proved pivotal—a trauma specialist happened to be on the beach and immediately took charge, directing first aid and stabilizing him until paramedics arrived. Andre received 13 units of blood transfusion en route to Royal North Shore Hospital, where surgeons performed emergency surgery overnight, ultimately amputating his lower right leg to prevent further complications from severe tissue damage and infection risk.
Initially given only a 5% chance of survival due to massive blood loss and shock, Andre defied the odds. By late January, reports confirmed he was stable and on the path to recovery in intensive care, transitioning toward rehabilitation. His family described him as a talented musician from the South Coast (Wollongong area), a passionate surfer, artist, and lover of the ocean—someone whose identity extended far beyond the waves.
In the quiet hours after surgery, as Andre slowly emerged from heavy sedation and anesthesia in his hospital bed surrounded by beeping monitors, IV lines, and thick bandages, he shared a moment that has deeply moved his loved ones. He whispered to his family, asking if they were proud of him. The question wasn’t born from fear of the physical scars or the amputation; rather, it reflected a deeper anxiety—that the world might now define him solely by the attack, the bloodied water, and the loss of his leg, overshadowing the person he was before: the creative soul who made music, chased swells, and lived with joy and purpose.
His family has spoken of how Andre wasn’t afraid of the wounds themselves—he accepted the medical reality with remarkable calm—but he was terrified that people would only remember him for what happened underwater. That vulnerability, expressed in a soft plea from a man who had just stared down death, still echoes through their home and conversations. It serves as a silent reminder of the psychological toll these incidents exact, beyond the visible injuries.
Medical staff and those close to the case have noted how such questions are rare yet profoundly human in trauma recovery. In the midst of pain management and phantom limb sensations, Andre’s concern centered on legacy and perception—wanting assurance that his essence as a musician, friend, and surfer remained intact and valued.
This incident was part of an unprecedented spike: four shark encounters in NSW within roughly 48 hours, including Nico Antic’s fatal attack in the harbour on January 18, a child’s surfboard bitten at Dee Why, and another injury nearby. Authorities suspect environmental drivers—warmer waters shifting prey and attracting bull sharks (aggressive and estuarine-tolerant) closer to popular beaches. North Steyne and surrounding areas saw temporary closures, with ramped-up patrols, drones, and public alerts.
Andre’s recovery story offers a counterpoint to tragedy—a testament to community heroism (surfers and the on-scene doctor), rapid emergency response, and personal strength. His family has called for “positive energy” during his healing, emphasizing his talents and spirit. Supporters in the surfing and music communities have rallied, sharing memories of his creativity and laid-back vibe.
As Andre begins physiotherapy, prosthetic fitting, and psychological support, his whispered question lingers as a poignant plea: to be seen fully, not reduced to victimhood. In the wake of such violence from nature, his words highlight the enduring need for empathy—reminding us that behind every headline is a person hoping their story continues to be one of pride, not just survival.
The Sydney shark spate of 2026 has forced difficult conversations about coexistence with wildlife, beach safety, and mental health after trauma. For Andre de Ruyter, the journey ahead is long, but his family’s accounts suggest a resilient spirit determined to reclaim and redefine his narrative—one note, one wave, one day at a time.
