! REPORT
The Abandoned Mobile Pirate Radio Station
3D Render by GMArtworks"The Abandoned Mobile Pirate Radio Station"
Render: Iray DAZ Studio 4.25
Postwork: Photoshop/ON1 Effects 2022
The Story:
It was the early 1980s when the voice of Radio Nachtegaal first crackled across the airwaves. Hidden among the dense conifers of the Veluwe, Bram sat in his bright orange Volkswagen T2 van. The vehicle had been converted into a mobile radio studio, complete with an illegal transmitter, a roaring generator, and crates full of vinyl records.
While the RCD (Radio Control Service) tracking teams scoured the highways in their direction-finding vans, Bram sat deep in the woods. With a hot cup of coffee close at hand and the volume turned up, he broadcast the best pirate hits and forbidden pop music to thousands of listeners in the region every week. The van was his fortress, his secret broadcasting station.
Until that stormy November night in 1984.
Right in the middle of a Dire Straits song, headlights suddenly flashed through the trees. The RCD had triangulated his signal. Bram knew he had no time to dismantle the antenna. He snatched up his favorite records, leapt from the van, and vanished like a phantom into the pitch-black darkness, leaving the police officers and inspectors bewildered beside a still-running, empty van.
Today, more than forty years later, the orange van is still there. It is now an abandoned wreck, completely reclaimed by nature.
Render: Iray DAZ Studio 4.25
Postwork: Photoshop/ON1 Effects 2022
The Story:
It was the early 1980s when the voice of Radio Nachtegaal first crackled across the airwaves. Hidden among the dense conifers of the Veluwe, Bram sat in his bright orange Volkswagen T2 van. The vehicle had been converted into a mobile radio studio, complete with an illegal transmitter, a roaring generator, and crates full of vinyl records.
While the RCD (Radio Control Service) tracking teams scoured the highways in their direction-finding vans, Bram sat deep in the woods. With a hot cup of coffee close at hand and the volume turned up, he broadcast the best pirate hits and forbidden pop music to thousands of listeners in the region every week. The van was his fortress, his secret broadcasting station.
Until that stormy November night in 1984.
Right in the middle of a Dire Straits song, headlights suddenly flashed through the trees. The RCD had triangulated his signal. Bram knew he had no time to dismantle the antenna. He snatched up his favorite records, leapt from the van, and vanished like a phantom into the pitch-black darkness, leaving the police officers and inspectors bewildered beside a still-running, empty van.
Today, more than forty years later, the orange van is still there. It is now an abandoned wreck, completely reclaimed by nature.

















































