I had a difficult time trying to write a story to share about Bob. I’m not sure if it is the lifetime of experiences I was able to share with him, both high and low… Or perhaps it was just not wanting to think too deeply about the man that we have lost. In the end, I settled on a very formative trip for me that I think portrays Bob in his truest form.
I met Bob when I was in grade two. Kevin and I quickly became friends on the soccer field and began hanging out after school as well. A short time later I was learning to kayak, taught by the same man that taught the majority of Yukoners to paddle: Bob. I progressed in my paddling and was invited to travel to Ecuador with Kevin and Bob for a kayaking trip. As a 15-year-old, I had never left North America and I was very excited and nervous about the trip. In true Bob fashion, he assured my mother that he would take excellent care of me and would not let me drink too much alcohol.
Finally, the trip arrived! After a couple of connections and several free international-flight drinks, we arrived in Ecuador, quite drunk… Drunk enough that I threw out the “receipt” that the customs agent gave me. The receipt turned out to be my travel visa. Bob was not off to a good start with the promises to my mother.
The paddling trip was everything you could imagine, fantastic whitewater with friends in an equatorial rainforest. Bob navigated the intricacies of arranging transportation, accommodation, and food for a gaggle of friends, in a country he had never been to without batting an eye. He developed a friendship with Luis, one of the drivers there that lasted for many years and many subsequent visits.
If you have not had the pleasure of drinking a Cuba Libra in South America, then you won’t know that they are typically served with a napkin wrapped around the glass and a straw for drinking. In the 100% humidity of the tropics, the icy drink causes condensation on the glass, hence the napkin.
One night after a day of paddling we were having food and drinks on the second floor of a bamboo tree-house that swayed when people moved around. Partway through the evening, Bob seemed to have a Eureka moment with the aforementioned wet napkin and drinking straw. He developed that characteristic twinkle in his eye that he was known for, and started shooting spitballs across this little bamboo treehouse. Soon the entire top floor was shooting spitballs as quickly as you could make them. I’m not exactly sure how the spitball fight finally ended but surprisingly it wasn’t with the restaurant collapsing to the ground.
This trip was just one in the long list of passport stamps that Bob collected in his worldly travels. For me, this trip sparked my love of travel, my interest in foreign cultures, and planted a seed of confidence that I can persevere in any situation I am presented with. Bob had a true gift for taking the unknown and making it known and empowering those around him to do the same, all the while enjoying life to its fullest.
