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The Adventures of Bob ~ " Condensed version of my biography ".

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Robert Wayne Nelmes,(Bob, Bobby) Oct.9, 1955 ~ ~


This is not a story about a person who eats a brand of taco chip, a person with his own parking space or driving lane, a gas station attendant or an instruction manual on how to use computer software. It's just about me, someone who happens to be named Bob. Actually, my legal name is Robert, although I have answered to numerous derivaties such as Rob, Bobby, Bob the Knob, Numers, Num Num and Num nuts. I have always preferred Bob though I must admit to feeling weak kneed whenever a beautiful woman has called be Bobby. As to why... beats me... so I'll let any psychologists out there determine that for themselves... they seem to think they know everything anyway.

The impetus for sitting down at my computer and setting down my lifes adventures has a direct conection with approaching middle age and a desire to understand myself better. As most or even all of us at this period in our lives, my feelings were that I had not really accomplished anything of significance, so I began taking a close look at myself. Upon reflection I determined that until I went back skiing I did not know what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would not change a single thing.

The desire to write about my experiences has always been there, but who would want to read about an average person named Bob. At that point the little grey cells started shooting off. As we are all aware, the mass media has had a love affair with the name Bob. It has been used by comedians, in commercials, as the main character in movies and a major software company had planned on calling it's new gerneration of user friendly software Bob. As a result everybody thinks they know all about Bob. Well... it is now time to set the general public straight on who Bob really is. He is not a politician, sports hero, movie star, talk show host, scientist, war hero or mass murderer. He is the average person next door just like you who just happens to have had one hell of a full and varied life to this point.

So... if you will, please sit back, relax and let me tell you the readers digest version of the adventures of Bob.

The Beginning

Although my adventures have taken me to many locations on the great blue planet of ours, I, like all other human beings began with the greatest event of all time. My birth... on Oct. 9, 1955 just after midnight in Powell River, small town on the coast of British Columbia, in Canada., I emerged at a little over 5 pounds and was fortunate to become a member of a family that believed life itself was an adventure. As with all of us I have very little memory of the first few years of my life, bit I am sure that I considered myself the centre of the universe and that everything existed solely to feed me. So lets take the time for family background.

My great-great grandfather on my fathers side immigrated to the colonies from England in the early 1800's and settled in vicinity of Oxford County, near Woodstock, Upper Canada. He had a number of sons, the most significant one of course being David. David was born in 1850 and then left home at the age of 15 to visit his sister Mary who had gone to Chilliwack to marry Isaac Kipp and also his brother John who had settled around Sutters Fort in California. He returned to Upper Canada and joined the Queens Own Rifles during the Fenian Scare. I think it was 1870 or 71 that he returned to Chilliwack with of course gold lust and ended up settling on a homestead. The family lost all their land during the floods of 1897-98 and ended up moving into Chilliwack were David built a house that still stands on Corbould street in Chilliwack. My grandfather Edgar (Ed) one in a family of seven boys and one girl. He was apparently a dapper fellow in his younger years. He married Adel Weaver daughter of Thomas Weaver of Morris Valley where there is a lake named after him. Weaver lake. He worked in and then owned a mens clothing store. My father was the youngest of four children, two brothers, one adopted and one sister now living is Australia. He left home just before picking up his high school diploma and moved to Powell River where he began his career in the paper industry at the bottom of the totem pole. This was where he fell in love and married after a six week romance. Her name was Sylvia Charlotte Evans.

My eleventh great grandfather, as best as I can figure it from the documentation, on my mothers side was born in Sudbury, Mass. on Feb. 22 1649. The family tree is a story unto itself and is recorded in the William Ward Geneology, so I'll only review some interesting highlights that I have always enjoyed. Charles, my eighth great grand father was born Oct. 27, 1722 in Marlbouough, Mass. He enlisted in the expedition against Cape Breton and died in service during the taking of Louisburg. His son, William, borm on Sept. 12, 1743 was one of the first settlers in Poultney, Vt. and a member of the irregular revolutionary troops which resisted the progress of General Burgoyne's army and aided in it's capture. During this period his wife and children found themselves in danger from hostile indians under Englands employ. She fled to Bennington on foot with her youngest in arms more than forty miles through harsh wilderness guided only by blazed trees. William later become a member of the convention which framed the constitution of the state of Vermont. His son Bernard served as a memebr of Captain Parmalee Allen's company of Vermont Rangers. The family line remained farmers and progressed west along with historic expansion. My great grandfather Charles born in algona, Ia in 1868 and great grandmother Hattie born in Wesley, Ia, in 1869 farmed for twenty years and resided successively in Algona, Ia, chickasha Okla, Twin Fall, Ida and Rimbey, Alberta. My grandmother, Mabel was born in Rimbey in 1907 and then moved to Calgary in her late teens to pursue a hair dressing career. She met and married my grandfather Charles Evans who was born in Oswestry a town in northern wales with a very old history. At the age of sixteen lied about his age and joined the army during the first world war. He was later seriously wounded in the legs by machine gun fire in Flanders fields. His wounds and experiences would later result in the break up of the marriage after the birth of his two daughters, one of which is my mother Sylvia.

She was born in Calgary, but moved with my grandmother to Vancouver at an early age and lived in what is now the west end. They eventually moved to Powell River where my mother was training to be a nurse at the time she met my father.

As can be seen, my family history on both sides exhibits a need for change, a sense of restlessness with the status quo and always the search for something new. A dream for a better life. These traits must be genetic in nature, for they not only appear in my parents, but I display them also. Now that we can see it's in the blood, you could say, let's get back to the adventures.

My parents have told me that my early childhood was fairly normal for the late 50's. Which means cloth diapers hanging down to my knees while crying to be changed and fed. My older brother Ted was two at the time and apparently took on the role of big brother immediatly. From that point until the time he left home, nobody could screw with his brother without answering to him. My first memory is at the age of two when we were living in a house that my father had built just outside of Powell River in a sopot called Blackpoint. My brother and I had turned two stools upside down in the area between the living room and the kitchen. I remembe it like it was yesterday. The narrative will be slightly one sided as I was unable to speak and would not really talk until four years old. That's another story. Anyway, picture if you will a two and four year old deciding ti live the adventure of being steamboat captians.

'Bob, let's play steamboat captain.' Ted commanded. Having no idea whatsoever what a steamboat captian was I nodded my head vigorously in agreement. If Ted was going to play it then so was I.

'Okay, what we do is tip the stools over.' instructed my brother as he first grabbed his seat, then with tongue out and a grimace on his face managed to push his stool over and then lift is so it was sitting upside down. I... as any dutiful brother, was of course trying to get my stool tipped, but no way.

'Bob...move. I'll do it.' Ted volunteered as he proceeded to duplicate the feat with my stool.

Leaning forward with his hands on his knees in order to look me in the eyes Ted laid out the scenerio. 'Bob, these are boats. We get inside and pretend we are captians. We can move by holding on the legs and doing the twist to move. Watch.' Ted climbed into his stool and then grabbed the legs and started twisting. Through my amazed eyes I sam magically start to move across the floor and start to hoot, 'Whoo...whoo.' This I had to do. While Ted was occupied steaming down the river, I managed to climb into my stool and duplicate his postition. With twists of my bum and pushing my arms on the legs I started to move. The feeling was so fabulous my young body must have started producing adrenalin because I went for it. Though I could not talk I could make my whoo sounds and started cruising down the river at breakneck speed... I of course lost my balance... but now like to think I hit a sandbar. The realization in my young mind of impending doom was immediate, although the actual fall tho the floor took an eternity. From the moment the stool went past the point of no return time stood still until I hit the floor with the leg landing on my right arm and fracturing it. I don't remember any pain, so I must have gone into shock. Thank you for giving young children soft bones. This was my first real adventure and the first of many broken bones.

The house at Blackpoint was just a short distance from the highway, but in my young mind it was one hell of a long way. My brother and I were of course forbidden to cross the highway, but as all children our minds were quite vacant and focused almost purely on self gratification. There was a family that lived near the ocean across the highway, with older children that my brother and I loved to hang out with. I have my doubts that they enjoyed having us around. Anyway, one day my brother and I set off to visit our friends. I remember holding my brothers hand and walking forever to get to the highway. Once there, I recollect having my first experience with intense fear. The highway was so wide and dangerous to cross, but the magnetic pull of fun on the other side overcame the fear and so we looked around, took one step on the pavement and ran! I recall excitment once we arrived on the the other side. The adrenalin must have neen pumping because I do not recall anything else about that day apart from arriving at the house near the ocean. I'm sure though, both Ted and I were properly disciplined.

Although there were other houses around, our house was in quite a wooded area. In the late 50's population density was very low and contact with animals was very probable. One morning before anyone else was awake I wanted to go ouside to play, so I went to the back door reached way up for the know and opened it. The next thing I remember I'm looking up and screaming bloody murder. My 2nd experience of intense fear. Imagine being 3 years old, opening a door and seeing the largest, meanest looking, death incarnate, black bear at the back door. The bear was more than likely in the back yard, but to my memory it was just inches from my face. My father, the take charge type of person he is, got his 38-55 winchester and proceeded to stalk and kill the bear. I still recall the bear skin hung in the backyard. From this point until we moved to Vancouver the memories are sporadic so it must have been a very contented and comfortable period. I am told that during this period I fell down a post hole and my sister saved me but I have no memory of it. I do recall my brother winning a fishing rod at the drive in and the birth of my little brother, but they were not what I would call adventures. So I'll move on.

I've always had a memory of running down a narrow stair case in an old house then going outside and walking to a small island at low tide. I never thought to much about it unitl I was driving to Powell River to visit my younger brother who was working there at the time. Just south of Powell River I looked to the ocean and saw an old house with a large shoal just off shore. The feeling of deja vue I experienced is indescribable. I stopped my car, jumped out and knew that I had lived in that house and walked to the shoal. My parents have since told me that we rented the house as an interim measure just prior to moving to Vancouver. I still to this day get shivers when I recall the feeling of seeing the house. It was a fabulous feeling.

One thing that is very important for the reader to know is that up until the age of 4 years old I did not talk. Of course my parents were very, very concerned with my develpment and took me to see a number of doctors. The doctors at one point went so far as to clip my tongue thinking I was tongue tied... probably was. Apparently one doctor even suggested to my father that I was metally retarded. Hogwash. Thank you dad for not believing the doctor. In hindsight I feel I didn't talk because I knew at that age that I didn't have to talk in order to get what I wanted. My older brother did all my talking for me. Or perhaps it was something else.

The City

5 - 7 Years Old.

We moved to a suburb called Surrey close to where the east side of the Port Mann bridge is today. While living in this house I recall watching television for the first time, my father teaching me to ride my bike, my father teaching me how to tie my own showlaces, my first of many diays of school, having my first best pal, (whom I competed against 12 years later, but that is another story) and of course my 2nd experience with pain resulting in scare #2. Scar #1 was the result of my broken arm at 2 years old.

At the rear of our house was a wooded area where all the neighbourhood kids played. As the typical younger brother I followed Ted everywhere. I was chasing him and his friends one day and tripped, landing on an open can. I recall running back to the house with tears streaming down my face as blood ran down my leg. My father fixed me up. As he tells it now the wound was simply a scratch, but in my young mind I was mortally wounded. As it turns out I suffer from a condition called keloiding. I scar very easily. To this day I still wear a 4 inch scar on my upper left thigh. As I was growing up I was able to expand quite colorfully on how I actually got the wound.

I could regurgitate my entire life during this period, but lets just stick to what my young mind considered adventures. There was an old abandoned farm house near where the construction of the Port Mann bridge was and we boys had all the 'kids' believing that was where the 'Boogie Man' lived. Remember, at this age even us boys were not really sure if the Boogie Man was true or not. Of course, being boys we had to take advantage of the 'little kids', especially the girls. One day myself and two of my friends convinced a couple of girls to explore the old house. When we were close we began telling them stories about the boogie man and his house. The girls began to become quite frightened and turned around to go home. At this point, all three of us boys yelled 'Boo' and began screaming. I still remember those girls starting to scream and run faster than they ever had before. This was my first typical 'boy' prank.

This period in my life is still quite hazy but I did experience a number of firsts.

On the first day of school I recall having to go to the bathroom and being absolutely petrified to raise my hand. So I just let go in my pants. My mother to always talked about this period.

I recall getting my first swimming classes and answering 'what' whenever the instructor said to bob (which of course meant to duck under the water) and achieving my first swimming badge.

I still remember like in a movie the day my father taught me to tie my own shoes and the pride I felt in doing it myself.

Another day of accomplishment is the day I learned how to ride my bicycle. The bike my parents had purchased was the most beautiful machine I could ever have wished to have. I still smile when I recall this day, riding without help.

I recall having sessions with my brothers and sisters at Christmas where we would each tell what we got each other before Christmas morning. We were each sworn to secrecy so our parents wouldn't know we had confided in each other. We were a team of conspiritors.

I don't recall very much about school. It was not a very good student and the teachers classified me as slow. So I must not have liked or enjoyed going to school very much. As you will determine later the reason I was classified as slow was beyound my control.

Though I was of course talking by now since it was required , I did have a problem. I spoke with a serious speech impediment. I sounded like Barbara Walters except worse. But of course at that age I had no idea I spoke differently that everyone else. All I knew was that I was teased all the time because of it.

Enough about this period... lets move on the becoming a jetsetter.

World Traveler

7 - 9 yrs old.

The only real memory I have of the preparations for moving our family to the other side of the planet was going to the doctor and receiving our 'shots'. I can recall being extremely scared about having so many needles stuck in me. As the doctor proceeded to puncture my skin with the 6" long horse needles I was shaking. I remember afterwards being so proud that I didn't cry and had the attitude that 'Hey, that was piece of cake.'

The day we left Vancouver, we were all dressed in our best. Climbing the stairs to get into the airplane was the most exciting moment I had experienced in my entire life to that point. I was off into the unknown.

We boarded a B.O.A.C. flight to Glasgow in Toronto. This was an exciting flight because we were travelling at at time when it was still a novelty for children to be on overseas flights. The stewardesses and crew treated us like royalty. My brother and I were allowed into the cockpit and the crew gave us our own BOAC mileage logs and gold colored wings which of course we hardly took off.

Believe it or not, the most exciting time in Glasgow was visiting the Museum. They had actual operating model trains.

We travelled by train to Loch Ness and spent a few days there. I guess my parents wanted to see if they could find the monster. This was also the location where my father purchased me my first pocket knife. I remember holding that knife in my hand and being so proud that my father considered me old enough to have my own. The knife was of course about 1 1/2 inches long with a tartan design but to myself it was priceless. Shortly after we were crossing a stoen bridge and my younger brother, about 2 yrs old, wanted to hold it so I let him. He then proceeded to throw it over the bridge and into the water. To this day I continue to tease him about this incident. Particularly since he has no recollection whatsoever. At the time though... I was devastated.

Our next stop was London. I was actually walking around in London, England. Wow.

We stayed at a bed and breakfast where I experienced my first taste of bran for breakfast. To this day bran flakes are my favourite cereal. It is virtually impossible to explain the feelings I was experiencing at that time. To actually see the changing of the guard, the Tower of London and many other sites was unbelievable. I can still 'see' everything I saw and experienced like in a movie.

An experience I recall vivedly occurred walking along the Thames close to the Tower. We stopped to look in the window of an armour shop. There was a suit of armour in the window that would have fit me perfectly. The overwhelming desire to have that suit of armour for myself is still vivid today. For some reason I can recall feeling that it belonged to me.

Our next stop was Rome. My older brother and I loved it. My parents probably got apoplexy trying to ensure that we didn't get lost in all the ruins. I can recall standing in the upper sections fo the colloseum and having my father explain to us about gladiators, mock battles and the fact that the Romans sent slaves and Christians into the arena as fodder for wild animals. The fasination I felt for this city and its history remains with me to this day.

It was in Rome where my parents let us buy our own souvenirs. So us kids walked into the gift shop next to the hotel and searched. I bought myself a small zippered folder for holding pens and paper such as you would purchase for school. I specifically bought the one that had a map of the world on its cover. This folder remained with me until about grade 10 when it finally died. It was my most prized possession.

There were other stops along the way but nothing of significance occured.

When we finally arrived in East Pakistan (present day Bangladesh) it felt like I was stepping into a furnace. We travelled by jeep from Dhaka to Khulna to Khalishpur where we were to live. Our home was a beautiful little bungalow set in a circular drive of other colonial bungalow's in an expatriate compound surrounded by a 10' wall with barbed wire on the top facing out. Please do not get me wrong. It was nothing like a prison. Picture paradise in the midst of poverty. We had seven servents, 5 full time. A bearer(butler), a houseboy named Shangar, a cook, a nanny, a gardener and a dobie to wash our clothes. We had everything a good colonial compound had to have, our own school, swimming pool, movie theater and of course clubhouse for the adults. The we spent in bangladesh is so vivid I could probably write a book just about it, so I'll just touch on significant experiencies.

Pretty much all the children in the colony were inseperable. We used to race our bikes around the circular drive and I remember winning a lot of them.

I won my first sporting event. We were required to swim underwater as far as we could over the length of the pool. I knew before the start that I was going to win. When I dived in I opened my eyes and concentrated on the far wall of the pool. My parents were always amazed that I did it. After everyone else had surfaced I was still under and kept going. Apparently everyone outside was getting a little concerned. I remember that I felt I had to get to the far wall no matter how much I wanted to take a breath. As you probably have guessed... I swam the whole length of the pool underwater at 8 years old. I still treasure the metal casting of a deer that I received as a prize. When I marry, my wife will have to understand that this insignificant item deserves a prominent location in our household. At present it represents the importance of never giving up and remaining focused on where you want to be.

My father bought me my first pellet gun. What a joy it was target shooting with my brother and father in the backyard.

We had our first pets. My father converted the crate our belongings arrived in into a cage where we kept a number of squirrels. We would spend countless hours watching their antics. (Note: I will never cage another animal as a pet as long as I live. I will also never put a collar on another animal as long as I live.)

I experienced my first cruise. We travelled by private yacht down the Ganges river to the Bay of Bengal. During this trip I had my first taste of real jungle, wild life and pungi sticks.

I witnessed my first native riot, where they broke into the outer compound and went at each other with clubs and any other weapon they could get their hands on. Don't get me wrong. They were not after us, it was their way of striking and letting their anger out over their situation.

Until someone has been to this part of the world and seen, smeld and touched real poverty they will never understand. It is impossible to explain. You would think that being exposed to such abject poverty on a daily basis would make you immune to it. But that is not the case, it will affect you in a way that will change you forever.

I recall my first beggar, first starving child, first destitute old man, first crazy person from hunger, first dead person on the sidewalk, first swollen belly on a child the same age as me. You do not forget.

I rented the movie 'The City of Joy' and loved it. it is as close as a movie can get to showing someone in the west what is really like over there. An interesting point is the hotel in the movie, (I am pretty sure) is the same one we stayed at in Calcutta whenever we went there. It was great to see things I recognized and know I was there and the happy memories I have of it.

I recall my first walk in Calcutta, we had to walk down one street that was the local 'toilet'. Everyone did their business here. Imagine the smell and feeling of standing in the hole of an outhouse.

The first time my brother and I snuck out of our room at the Grand Hotel we had a grand adventure. We walked the streets, bought our fist drinks from a street vendor and witnessed a Hindu Wedding from the 2nd floor balconey in the hotel. So colorful.

It was during this period when I witnessed my first belly dancer at the restaurant. Seeing the jewel in her belly button was so cool. I recall feeling like a man since my parents were allowing me to witness a half dressed women with full breasts writh around on the dance floor.

There was one village on the way to Calcutta that my brother and I looked forward to passing through each time. The women in this village were topless. My mother didn't like us seeing it but my fathers view was that it was natural and we should get used to it. It may have been natural, but Ted and I couldn't stare long enough.

I could go on and on but I think I will skip to when my parents decided to send my brother and I to Australia to live with our Aunt and Uncle in order to get a better education. We wanted to go but of course were quite scared about going somewhere unknown and leaving our parents. It must have been heart rendering for my parents but they had to do what was best for their children. I did not like the idea. Although I was adventurous to a degree I was quite shy and introverted and did not wish to leave my family at all.

On the plane in Calcutta looking out the window at my mother on the tarma crying was one of the hardest things I have ever experienced. The crew again treated my brother and I like royalty. When we crossed the equator the stewardess allowed Ted and I to hand out the certificates everyone on the plane received for this momentous event. You must remember that this was a time when international travel by jet was still a novelty for most.

It was during this flight that I experienced my first absolutely frightening event. The plane was passing through a storm and dropped 1000' in a secound. My little heart had never pounded lke that before. It has since though, which I will get to later.

I recall getting off the plane in Sydney with a cowichan jacket that my mother had knitted since it was going to be cold in Australia (as compared to Bangladesh). Even though we were the only unattended children on the plane and the airline had already arranged for my Aunt and Uncle to meet us we each had pieces of cardboard on string hung around our necks with our names on them. Arriving in an unknown country alone was extremely scary. Once our aunt and uncle hugged us to death though and met our cousins we felt safe. Within 24 hours we felt at home. Again my experiences in Australia were some of the happiest of my life and would be a book unto themselves so I'll give highlights. I got my first fishing rod, learned how to surf,(not very good though), bodysurf, got my first mask and snorkle, saw television for 1-2 hrs per week, saw my first waterfall, played cricket for the first time, played rugby for the first time. (I was a bench warmer for my team, but like to think of it as playing Left Right Out.)

We lived and went to school in Wauchope which is about 15 km inland from Port Macquarie, but every weekend or so we went to the cottage in Bonny Hills some 5 km south of Port Macquarie. The saturday evening all of us kids would actually write, produce and act in our own play for my aunt and uncle.

It was at this location where I had a shotgun full of rock salt shot at me as I ran from an apple orchard. Us boys were always out and about from dawn till dusk exploring. My first wood tick was caught here. Lets just say it tried to burrow into the end of a very precious part of my anatomy. Dipping it in gasoline to extract it is a memory that still causes me to shiver but also giggle.

For some reason I was not allowed to be an actual cub scout, but since my uncle was the scout master I was allowed to become an honorary cub scout and participate in everything. Those were great times. When we left for Canada the troop called me up and gave me a scarf with their troop badges on it and then of course clapped, yelled and went crazy. The scarf is another item that I treasure to this day.

A great day was when the school advanced me one grade. That was sure good for the ego.

One of the reasons my handwriting sucks to this day can be traced to when the teacher was teaching us how to write the letter 'p' in the Australian manner. He stood in front of the class bending a bamboo cane saying 'you had better write it the proper way or taste this.' I shake my head now when I think about the pointlessness of using that type of motivation for something as silly as writing the letter p.

I almost took my eye out playing cricket one day and required stitches... the scar still bothers once in a while.

The day our parents arrived my aunt and uncle woke us up at about 5;00am but didn't tell us why. They just told us to get dressed because we had to go somewhere. They took us to the train station and told us somme of their family were coming for a visit. When the train arrived and our parents stepped off my brother and I went nuts. The intense happiness I experienced is indescribable.

My parents were amazed that I sounded just like an Australian, accent and all. After another month we left to return to Canada.

Home Again

9-18 yrs old.

We arrived back in Canada and lived in Delta just outside on New Westminister. It was here where we adapted back to Canadian society. Again... I recall it being a happy period.

I developed my first desire to go skiing, we owned a television, got my first 'big 3 speed bike', I liked school since everyone wanted to know about Australia, made a lot of friends and discovered what it was like to kiss the girl next door.

Approx. 6 months later we moved to Prince George, BC where my parents remained until the 3 oldest kids had finished hight school. Again there is so much to tell but will keep to the highlights.

I experienced my first time as a public speaker when my teacher in grade 6 asked me to give a half hour talk on my years overseas. It petrified me because of my speech impediment. It was during this period when my peers were of the age when they tease anyone who is different in any way. I knew that after the talk they would be imitating certain things I say. I did it anyway since I had no real choise. I lived.

It was at this time also when the same teacher could not understand why I did so poorly in school. At that time classes were organized by the alphabet and I was always located near the back. One day he moved me to the front of the class and from that day forward my educational life changed. I was not slow. I was deaf in one ear. That explained my speech impediment and my tone deafness also. You cannot replicate sounds if you cannot hear them the same way as everyone else. I was not able to train myself to speak the way everyone else hears until a was almost 32 years old, but I will get into that later.

Since a loty of my formative years were spent in Prince George they were both the happiest and the saddest of times.

I received my first valentine from a girl, played spin the bottle in grade 7, french kissed for the first time, had my first cigarette in grade 6, got my own 22 rifle, and on and on.

I started skiing at 11, got my first job as a lift attendant at the local ski hill at 13, bought my own 10 speed at 14, was a junior ski partroler at 15, purchased my first pair of fiber-glass skis, a ski intructor at 16, become the youngest certified instructor in Canada at the time, 1 month after my 18th birthday. I received the highest marks and honours at the week long instructors course at Sunshine Village and was acknowledged in front of 150 ski instructors. At 18 I was also the Assistant Director of a ski school in addition to maintenance supervisor at the ski hill. Upon my leaving the ski school the director and all 50 instructors threw a party for me and presented me with a plaque 'In appreciation of your Professional Services'. I was very shy, so my parents encouraged me to go out for football. Thank you mom and da. It helped to bring me out. I loved it. I was a lineman, lineback and running back from then until I finished in grade 12. During the first year I earned my football nickname, 'Rocky'. I was small, wiry and never gave up. During my 'career' in football our team, if I remember correctly, won our division 4 times. In my last year our team came 2nd in BC in our division. It was also that year when I won an award for 'The most sportsman like player.' It is nice to get recognition once in a while.

I look back now and can now understand to a degree why I excelled it these two sports.

I was an air cadet and have experienced the joy of marching up in front of the corp to receive an award for 'Excellence'.

The period between grade 8 and 11 were also my years of experimentation, my first drink of strawberry cream wine, my first joint, my first hit of acid, my first hit of MDA, my first block of hash, my chance to hold a 45 automatic pistol in my hand (a guy at school showed it to me), and my first trial of cocaine. I enjoyed every trip I have ever made, but I am thankful that I recognized by grade 12 that I enjoyed it too much and quit since it would have affected everything I wanted to do.

At the age of 15 my cousin and I hitchhiked from Prince George to Vancouver. We had told our parents we were going straight to Vancouver, but like most teenagers we sidelined over to Kamloops and Kelowna for a rock festival that was occuring. Never saw the bands but we had a tremendous time and met numerous people. I recall waking up underneath a bridge one morning and there was a girl looking straight at me saying 'You sure wake up funny.' My cousin had already wakened and scouted the nearby campsite.

I did not date much during high school due to my shyness, I was still very reluctant to get into a conversation with anyone because of the way I talked. There was no lack of girls wanting to date but my quiet nature and fear of rejection held me back from many opportunities. When I went to my 15th year reunion I sensed many things and now kick myself.

During grade 10 one of our assigments was to make a movie. We were split into teams and then left to our own devices. We decided to make a movie spoof on the similarities between violence in the streets and violence in Vietnam. It was roughly in the same format as Monty Pythons flying Circus. Our team recieved the highest marks.

When I was 16 I and John Marion were the first ones to actually ski down the sand cutbanks along the Nechako river and was quite involved in beginning the Annual Sandblast that is held in Prince George each year. The first dual slalom race we had the first year I received 2nd prize, but went on to take top honours the following year.

During my stint as the Assistand Director at Sno Pro Ski School I experienced the necessity of having to fire my first employee due to a lack of integrity.

There is a lot more but I will move onto the point where I left the Ski School.

I was on my way back to Australia.

There and Back Again

18-19 yrs old.

I left for Australia when I was 18 years old the youngest passenger travelling alone on the P.O. Lines cruise ship Arcadia. The 'Cheery Blosson Cruise' which travelled to Hawaii, Yokohama, Kobi, Hong Kong, Manila, Rabaul, Sydney. It was 36 days of the most decadent living on 18 year old could experience. I made friends quickly with all the other young people on the ship, there were about 20 of us. The immediately placed me under their wings and treated me like their little brother, particularly the older women (20-25).

In my view I had best designated table on the ship. 4 people. Myself on 18 yr old and 3 of the most beautiful single women on the ship. All in their mid 20's and dressed to kill. One even had the same birth date as myself. The conversations I participated in with these women were quite educational. Unfortunately, 'I was their little bother'.

The 2 eligible girls on the ship for myself were the golf pro's daughters, 17 and 15. I will not go into details, but I got to know them both. I was very attracted to the 15 year old and underneath it all didn't really want to leave the ship when it sailed from Sydney. We watched it go and she threw a streamer over and one of my friends handed it to me under her direction. I remember holding the streamer and watching her sail away... not wanting to let go of the streamer.... when the streamer finally broke I recall feeling quite sad knowing I would probably never see her again. I've thought about her so many times during my life.

There were many firsts on this voyage, but many are very private. I will however, share my first and only experience in a whore house. While we were in Hong Kong 10 of us went to a cat house. I was not eager to do it but once we were inside and 10 beautiful Asian girls walked out in a line the others said that I had to go first. I was reluctant but they said they would pay. The madam said take your pick. So I did. Censor, censor, censor. Out of 10 of us only 9 payed, one said no. I was the first one to start and the last one finished, I actually felt good about that. Took me a while to get going though. haahaa.

After this we went to the 'Bedside Bar', the guy who didn't pay picked up the bartender and took her back to the ship. The next morning I woke up to find hime and the girl..censor.. on the floor beside my bed. A week later, we in the washroom at the same time when he started to scream. Out of the 10 of us, he was the only one who got the clap. We found out the whore houses were checked by doctors every week. Phewwww.

Anyway, much of my trip was along the same line. Once I arrived in Australia it was like coming home again. I stayed up at Queens Cross for about a week and commuted between there and Bondi Beach where some others were staying. A lot of that week is hazy due to the partying, but I did meet a beautiful red headed girl at Bondi who connected with me right away.

I took the train to Wauhope and visited with family in Port Mcquarie... was there when my cousins son was born and then headed down to Cooma to go skiing at Threadbow and Perisher Valley. I was there for about 3 months and then headed back to visit the family for a while. One interesting thing is that after about 6 months I was visiting my uncle and we were having a BBQ. We were all a little tipsy when the phone rang. I said that it was probably my parents checking up on where I was. Believe it or not, it was.

I returned to the old beach we went to as children, just down from the house, and simply let the feeling of comfort envelope me. I knew at that point that I would always make every attempt to return to Australia.

After the birth of my cousins son we were at the hospital one day when a nurse wa walking by, (I recall she was very cute) then turned around and said 'your Bob from Canada right?' I couldn't believe she remembered what I looked like since grade 5. It feels good to have an impact on peoples lives, where they remember you fondly in this way. She said that she had a crush on me at that time. Too bad... she was married.

I experienced my fist visit to a winery. Some friends of my Aussie family, the Cassigrains, owned and operated a very nice winery just outside of Port Macquarie.

I succeeded in what I saw as an escape from a sick individual while hitchiking to Brisbane. This was an incident that I would not wish on anyone. Looking back the person was one very sick individual... may well have been another Jeffry Dhalmer. It still gives me the shivers.

I snagged the big bird back to Canada with a stop in Figi and Hawaii. Again I met a gorgeous 16 yr old in Hawaii. She was on holiday with her family. Her parents and family treated me so well like one of theirs. I remember them fondly.

When I was on the plane from Vancouver to Prince George I recall being excited about seeing my family again, but I really don't think I was ready to go home yet. My mother told me that I again had picked up the accent and was talking like an Aussie.

Well, lets take a look at collage, paving and university.

The Roaring 20's.


I refer to this decade as the roaring 20's because all I did was experience as much as possible.

Upon returning from Australia I entered Collage with the idea of pre-med. I wanted to be a doctor. I did quite well the first semester, but once the snow fell my marks fell. I was asked not to return the next year. I wasn't ready for school yet so I went back to teaching skiing.

That summer I asked someone I used to teach with who ran a paving company if I could get a job. He told me not until I got a hair cut, I didn't know if he was joking or not but I told him to stuff it. Someone I used to work with lifting t's also had his own company so I asked him. No problem. Within 2 years other company's were trying to recruit me. When the original fellow I asked called me one day, I asked him if he recalled not giving me a job when I needed one and then told him to stuff it. I made an enormous amount of money for someone my age paving during the summer which enabled me to teach skiing during the winter. It did pay very well. A friend of mine had opened his own School at Troll Resort so I went to work for him. Very happy times. It was during this period when I became a Molson's Molstar pacesetter during one season. That was fun. I also took the course and received my level 3 instructors certificate. I recall receiving a spike at the end of the course. I think it had to do with loosing a ski during the bump run and continuing on down on one ski... I sure didn't want to fall. I cherished my Level 3 pin, very proud of it. It was stolen at Purden Mountain after I bought the cabin here.

The most cherished possession I received during this period is a form of acknowledgement from a numbner of students I was teaching. It is quite common to recieve some form of tip from your classes usually in the form of money or gifts. This particular group took the time to hand write a 'Graduation Certificate' and each personally signed it. Today I have it framed and when I have a residence always has a prominent position in my living room because this form of thank you is from the heart and means more than any amount of money. The certificate read as follow:


    This is to Certify that BOB has satisfactorily completed courses of;
  • insanity
  • vocal abuse
  • ribald joking
  • convulsive contortions

An honourable mention for constant reference to, and great execution of, "Keep your bum up."
(Re) Marks
Bob must remember not to indulge in cornflaky jokes! To babble incoherently only in the presence of successful graduates of above insanity course.!!!
Also remember; "OLD PROS NEVER DIE"
"They just drop their bums."

I was still not having much luck with women though... again my fears of rejection and shyness were holding me back.

I purchased my first sports car, 1976 Celica Liftback. At that time it was the hottest Toyota on the road. It was in this car when I experienced another brush with death. While driving to work on a very beautiful day I pulled out to pass a truck and while passing they turned left directly into my path. I don't recall seeing any flashers at all. I thought I was going to get by them but there right front clipped my rear right resulting in my flipping off the road 3 times for a distance of 268 feet landing on four wheels facing the other way. This accident was one of the longest events in my life. It may have taken only a few seconds but it seemed to take forever. I did see events in my life pass before me. An interesting fact that I have never told anyone is that when I got into my car that morning I started out without a seatbelt, but I immediately felt like I was naked not wearing it and had an overpowering urge to put in on. Thank god I did. I think this was my first experience with premonitions. When I went to ICBC the next day they did not believe I was the driver because it was reported to them as a fatal accident. It was strange having people think you were dead. I told them I was sitting right there... so it obviously wasn't a fatal. I of course purchased another one, and then proceeded to drive across Canada... on the return trip I made it back in 48 hrs. What a ride!

It was at this point when I decided it was time to go back to school and enrolled myself as a mature student at Simon Fraser University. I continued to pave during the summer which enabled me to have quite a good lifestyle while attending. There were no fabulous accomplishments during this period. I was not the best student. I felt I was just getting the piece of paper that was required to become a suit.

I travelled to Hong Kong, Thailand, and finally to Sri Lanka to visit my parents for a month. Much occurrred on this holiday. What a beautiful country.

I went to my first Club Med, Buccaneers Creek during christmas break one year. Had a great time and met a lot of people. I look back and kick myself for not collecting addresses.

It was during my 20's also when I experienced a number of very close calls with death. They can be very sobering events. One of the events was during a Hot Dog ski contest. I was determined that I was going to win the jumping contest but upon leaving the jump realized that I had made a huge mistake by not checking the jump out first thereby resulting in a miscalculation on my part. I ended up upside down falling 30' onto my neck. My sister was watching while standing beside the family doctor who commented ' oh shit it's fatal'. Well as you know... I didn't die.. but I was sure sore for quite some time.

Payed for skiing and school paving driveways and highways.

Stewart, BC. Met a girl who concieved from a geyser and I found out in 2017 she produced a god. This is a pic of that period. Robert Wayne Nelmes Stewart BC CPE Paving 1980-81 summer

Just prior to that, same period, another very beautiful french canadian girl, very compatible, in North Vancouver concieved from immaculate conception another god.

Mountain Dew, it contains sperm, the penis leeks prior to ejaculation, TRUTH !

Believe it or not, both became United States Navy Seals.

It is so cool!

I still want to meet them, haven't yet. It is now Mar. 2020, they were introduced to identity thieves the RCMP, Governments and Military's. accepted.

I received my Bachelor of Business Administration Degree from Simon Fraser University in Burnaby, British Columbia in 1984.

I look at my 20's as a period of education, both socially and formally. I was definitely self absorbed about my outlook and path in life. Although my formal accomplishments were few, the lessons learned during this period have a great impact on who I am today.

Once I finished University I applied for and got a job with Amoco Canada Petroleum Ltd. and was first assigned to their Pembina District Office in Drayton Valley, Alberta. So I will move there.

The Suit Period

30-38 yrs old.

After a continuous period of 1 1/2 years at school I arrived in Drayton

Valley with $35 dollars in my bank account.

I attacked my new position with all the determination I used pursuing football, skiing and paving. My performance level was beyond managment expectations which I believe served to alienate me with my peers.

I may finish it.

Drayton Valley, analyst, administration, oil industry

Calgary, oil industry, analyst, administration, materials coordinator NGL Operations, Pipelines Supply and Marketing, skydiving, instructor, satellite school co-ordinator

UnFinished Period

39+ yrs old.

Australia, on business

Calgary, transition

Vancouver, transition, writing

England, on business

Vancouver, transition, care giving, writing, extra, nelfam publishing, 'Whatif... Your Head Isn't Empty?'

Chilliwack, home renovation, nelfam publishing, 'Pocket Guide to Universal Understanding', Hantiques,, skydiving, Fraser Valley Skydiving Center DZ coordinator

Chilliwack, Chaos, Winter, 2003-4

Homeless, Chaos

2004-6, Troll Resort, skiing, Perceptions sculpture, happiness

2004-6, Quesnel, skiing, Barkerville, Quesnel Ski and Sport

Homeless, Chaos

Chilliwack, Chaos

Homeless, Chaos

Chilliwack, Chaos

Homeless, Chaos

2008, Search for a place to ski and a place to live.

Nov 2008, Smithers, Back Suite ground flr in Apartment Blg, on Alfred St., Box 4880, Skiing, Happiness,, creativity, art, music.

* 2009 Dealing with obvious falsification of statistics and inaccurate information on searches with all search engines.

* 2009 Sent report with questions to ITCU of the RCMP, CSIS, FBI, CIA, MI6, MI5 and Interpol.

Jan. 2010, Purden Mtn, my ski cabin, my property, 3015 Purden Ski Hill Rd., [ Licence # 342451 ] Prince George, BC.(Box 981, 1yr then no box), Skiing, Happiness,, creativity, art, music, video.

* Dealing with identity theft and someone stealing 200+ million dollars from me.

* Dealing with identity theft and someone stealing 15 million dollars from me.

My cabin burning down. Sept. 19, 2012.

Suite in PG, 4629 Hunter Place., survival.

* Dealing with identity theft and someone stealing 200+ million dollars from me.

* Dealing with identity theft and someone stealing 15 million dollars from me.

Apartment in Golden, #2, 507 12St South, Box 1784., survival. July 15, 2014

* Dealing with identity theft and someone stealing another 400+ million dollars from me.

* They are connected to the people who murdered my daughter and my niece.

* Organized crime and people I grew up with.

They will be dealt with accordingly.

* Dealing with identity theft and someone stealing 50+ million dollars from me.

* Seems to be connected to Scientology somehow.

It is now Jan. 22, 2015

I am a good man.

I am doing what I can to catch them and put them in jail.

I want my money so I can go skiing.

I need it to have my hobby ski hill so every one can ski for free.

The food in the restaurant will be very good.

I am now planning my rustic ski cabin in a remote location near a mountain.

Golden BC has not worked out they way I had hoped.

Feb. 7, 2015.

This will be the design I am going to build, just a little wider, bed upstairs in half loft.

It will be nice and cosy.

Girl apprentise needed.

Pendents I have made for my girl and I.

No paperwork, no rings necessary.

Just the oke dokey of our lives and our compatible spiritual families with us.

It will be an adventure.


" The story of my life, boyfriends and husbands who don't like me. "


It was an experiment in self examination, something to help myself.

Try it yourself, Write your own, find out about youself.


July 21, 2015, Cando Era Homeless ~ 1 Bob's Place ~ Mount Bob ~ Dennis Lake Smithers, BC. Canada ~ Headquarters ~ creative milk productions ~ Smithers, BC, Canada
Entry 1.

Homeless, building a new cabin on a hill near Dennis Lake Recreation Site.

A nice spot with a natural black diamond run for skiing right off the front porch.

A lake for fishing and sailing.

Owner, webmaster, chief cook and bottle washer, creative milk productions.

Other people are faking stats and stealing my money.

I have been cheated.

Sept 15, 2015, Cando Era 1 Bob's Place ~ Mount Bob ~ Dennis Lake Smithers, BC. Canada ~ Headquarters ~ creative milk productions ~ Smithers, BC, Canada
Entry 1.

Almost finished the cabin, working on the door.

I will be ready for first snow.

Assaulted by SWAT for no reason.

Not arrested, no complaints from others I heard, taken to hospital, no problemo, car towed to impound with a lot of food inside.

The police said I could just pick up the car, no problem, I had no money for a days insurance, they knew it.

Found out later I have to pay towing and storage of $20.00 a day.

They cheated me knowingly and stole my car, towing illegally.

They should be responsible for the whole shot.

I have CPP coming end of Nov. Yeeee Hawwwww.

I need it to buy food and survive, not the car.

Have to decide if I spend $ 1800 to get a $500 car back or not.

I've already had to spend $1300, my seasons pass money in Golden getting it towed from the icefields.

Ruined my winter at Kicking Horse, no seasons pass.


With CPP I am covered until the day I die.

Kinda cool.

I will decide on the Pathfinder the next time I see Tyler's Towing and talk to him.

He said he might be able to swing something.

We'll see.


Just above happened in 2015.

A lot has happened since then, it is now Aug. 19, 2017.

I will fill it in at a later date.

Ishmailie Sihk, bin Ladens, El Qeada, Zeta, Islamic Jihad, Islamic State, terrorists, insurgents, organized crime, identity theft.

A state of war exists on our planet, in Canada, in North America and our government does nothing in Canada.

Foriegn governments, religions, genetic families are literally trying to steal British Columbia and our resourses.

It is helping El Qeada and the Agha Khan who is El Qeada and Islamic Jihad.

So much to tell, so much I know is happening.

Mass murder is going on and our government is covering it up, covering up missing people.

Faking identities, committing crime/murder/missing stats.


It is now Oct. 11, 2017


It is now Dec. 20, 2018 ~

My two domain names to my website ' Robert W Nelmes ' ~ Skier and Creative Artist.

Creator Owner of site and all content plus videos on youtube. Skier and Creative Artist.


Robert Wayne Nelmes, 714 525 839 creative milk productions the real guy !

5446'34.13"N 12726'16.56"W My cabin, 1 Bobs Place, Black Diamond Trail, 7013 McDonell Forest Service Road, Smithers.

I do not own a cell phone or any telephone.


My home, the cabin I built and where I live on $350.00 per month while still fighting the theft of all my emails, twitters, mail.

Since I bought in addition to I have not recieved a single email to either address apart from BCWeb and I haven't sent any apart to BCWeb.

The government is still stealing all my email, all my mail in both Canada and the United States.

How do I pursue my life, any business, anything without my mail, my identity, my name?

My CIBC bank card will not work in any interact machine, only at the bank.

It comes up " Too many tries "

The bank says nothing is wrong.

Someone is lying.

They are stealing my life.

Stealing my living data trail.


It is now Mar. 2, 2020.

I am Presently housesitting at Bill's Place on Km 4 Hankin Rd, Km 18.5 McDonell Forest SRV Rd.

He is a niegbour who is looking after a sick father in the United States.

How to get to my home/cabin/location.

I am at 5446'34.13"N 12726'16.56"W.

My cabin/home is at Km 13, 7013 McDonell Forest SRV Rd.

Google Map

Home Page

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Content and website Robert W Nelmes, Skier and Creative Artist (Domain names:,, 2009-present), creative milk productions.

Copyright (c)1997, (c)2004 and (c)2009 to the present relating to creative content and website in perpetuity.

By myself, Robert Wayne Nelmes, Born Oct. 9, 1955, Powell River, British Columbia, Canada.

All rights reserved.

All creative content and videos are my proprietary intellectual property, you may listen, view, read, save at your liesure but no commercial use or duplication is permitted without my express personal authorization.

I have given none.

Site began May 2009, hosted by server, then moved to ABC Communications server then to Google Drive server, now at server.
Site hosted by, Smithers, BC, Canada. ~ Oct. 27, 2016 to Nov 2019, Mar. 2020 to Present.