On April 1, 2014, Kris and Lisanne, both in their early twenties, embarked on a day hike near Boquete, a quaint town in western Panama. Clad in shorts and tank tops, the two friends carried a small backpack containing a camera, two mobile phones, a water bottle, and a few personal belongings. Their intention was to ascend to the picturesque viewpoint known as Mirador, situated along the El Pianista trail, and return before nightfall. They reassured the woman who rented them a room that they would return before dark.
Subsequent events unfolded into one of the most disturbing enigmas in contemporary travel. The return of the host family’s dog without the women that evening raised immediate alarm. By the following morning, with no communication from the girls, the host family reached out to law enforcement. A search operation commenced, enlisting local police, search and rescue teams, indigenous volunteers, and even the girls’ families who traveled from the Netherlands. Despite these extensive efforts, Kris and Lisanne remained missing for several weeks.
The two young women dedicated six months to working and saving for this journey. Kris, aged 21, was a sociable and diligent student who had recently finished her studies in cultural social education at the University of Utrecht. Lisanne, 22, had just earned her degree in applied psychology from Deventer. Their objective in Panama extended beyond mere exploration; they aimed to fully engage with a new culture, acquire the Spanish language, and volunteer with children.
On March 15, 2014, they arrived in Panama, and after a brief period of travel, they reached Boquete on March 29. They were accommodated by a host family and were set to commence their volunteer activities shortly thereafter.
However, just three days later, they mysteriously disappeared without any trace. Nearly two months following their disappearance, a local woman discovered a blue backpack on the riverbank in a nearby village. Inside were the girls’ possessions: Lisanne’s passport, some cash, a water bottle, two bras, and notably, their phones and digital camera.
The findings on these devices took the investigation into a more sinister direction. The phones indicated that the girls had attempted to contact emergency services 77 times within the initial days of their disappearance. The first calls were made mere hours into their hike, implying they encountered difficulties early on.
Most calls failed to connect due to poor signal, but one call did go through—albeit for only two seconds—before disconnecting. Following April 5, attempts to unlock one of the phones with incorrect PINs suggested that Kris may have lost access to it. By April 11, both phones had ceased all activity.
Even more troubling were the images recovered from the camera. Initial photos depicted the girls smiling, clearly relishing the start of their hike. However, a series of nighttime photos taken between 1 and 4 AM on April 8 presented a stark contrast: bizarre images of rocks, plastic bags, and candy wrappers arranged in odd formations, along with disturbing close-ups—one seemingly capturing Kris’s head with what some speculate could be blood at the edge of the frame. Neither girl was distinctly visible in these photos, leading to ongoing speculation.
A daytime photograph, likely captured by Lisanne, depicts Kris with a distressed expression, leaning forward with her hands positioned behind her back. Some speculate that this may suggest she was injured or restrained. Another image, taken later that same evening, features toilet paper and a mirror on the ground, potentially arranged to convey a distress signal such as ‘SOS.’ The urgent and seemingly desperate nature of the nighttime photographs—taken over a span of three hours—has only intensified the enigma surrounding the case.
The most tragic revelations emerged later. In June, Kris’s neatly folded garments were discovered on a riverbank. Two months thereafter, human remains were found in close proximity. A pelvic bone and a boot containing a foot were recovered, alongside approximately 10% of Lisanne’s skeletal remains and 5% of Kris’s. Lisanne’s bones appeared to have undergone natural decomposition, whereas Kris’s bones were notably white, possibly due to sun exposure or another unidentified factor. A forensic anthropologist from Panama examined the remains under magnification and found no indications of trauma or cut marks—there was no evidence of foul play, yet also no definitive signs of natural causes.
Despite thorough investigations conducted by both Dutch and Panamanian authorities, the case remains unresolved. Experts have posited that the girls may have become lost and subsequently fallen from a cliff, but no definitive evidence has ever substantiated this theory. There were no eyewitnesses, no suspects, and no coherent explanation that could account for all the peculiar details—especially the strange photographs, the unsuccessful emergency calls, and the condition of the remains.
The enigmatic deaths of Kris Kremers and Lisanne Froon continue to perplex and intrigue. Their narrative has led to the creation of documentaries, podcasts, and numerous online discussions striving to unravel the circumstances surrounding their disappearance.
Were they merely lost in the expansive and merciless jungle, or was there a more malevolent force at play? The absence of definitive answers has left both their families and the public yearning for resolution. What was intended to be a delightful adventure turned into a sorrowful event—and the complete truth may remain elusive.
