“It’s never too late to have a happy childhood,” a wise man once wrote.
Rob here. You just can’t write about yourself in the third person.
Debbie and I met in 2008. It was through the online dating site, eHarmony. I was in Inuvik, NWT, flying folks around the Arctic in a Twin Otter. Debbie was at home in Ottawa, luckily bored enough to log onto the site. We were simultaneously both the first connection on each others’ computers on the first night. Conclude what you will. We met on the night I got home. That was it. Cupid is a bloody marksman.
Debbie grew up in a big family in the Renfrew, Ontario area. She seems to have done a bit of everything: farm kid, competitive horse riding, built a log house, slow pitch baseball, successful curler, all while somehow having a career in insolvency administration, oh, and raising two great kids.
I grew in Toronto. Airplanes were in my blood since I was an early-teenager. I joined the Air Force after high school, and went to on a very fortunate career as a search and rescue helicopter pilot and later a test pilot with the military then the National Research Council in Ottawa. In my spare time I was privileged to fly priceless historic aeroplanes with Vintage Wings of Canada. I am also very fortunate to fly and write pilot report articles about cool new airplanes for Skies Magazine. My two cherished babies are all grown.
Oh, and Debbie and I built a lovely RV-6 kitplane, named SparkPlug, in which we zoom around when we’re not afloat. Debbie is a whiz at riveting.
About the “trawler thing,” I must confess that neither of us had a smidgin of experience with boats before we bought Casper and committed to live aboard. Crazy, right? For my part, I boldly presumed that an aeronautical career should confer at least a few useful nautical skills. I always counselled pilots never to fly faster than they can think, so I suspect a seven knot trawler will suit me fine. As for Debbie, I’ve never seen her shy away from a dare, a challenge or an adventure. We’ll figure it out.