Tales of My Uncle Bob

By Chris Robinson and Claire Wildish

Uncle Bob is a drover, a shearer, and a hero in the Northern Australian outback. The things that he does are often difficult to believe, but where he livesin the lonely, isolated deserts of Australiaanything is possible. From the time he was discovered by cigar-smoking Mary OToole, Uncle Bob learned that being himself as well as he could be was the most important thing. He didn't need money or fame to be happy. Sometimes you realize that the richest people in the world might have no money at all. What they do have are other things inside that are all their own. These are some of his stories. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed reading them in his letters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Mar 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524520373

Chris Robinson

Chris Robinson is the author of The Core Connection and a certified Pilates instructor with more than fifteen years of professional experience. He is a two-time Muay Thai kickboxing champion and was a collegiate track and field athlete at San Diego State University, where he earned a degree in kinesiology. Chris's clients have ranged from world-renowned celebrities like Oprah to top executives on both coasts. 

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Copyright © 2017 by Chris Robinson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 03/01/2017

Xlibris

1-800-455-039

www.Xlibris.com.au

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CONTENTS

Introduction

How Uncle Bob was Discovered

Uncle Bob’s Schooling

The Drover

The Wind Blew

Uncle Bob and the Big Jump

Insect Power

The Snake

The Whipping Tree

Uncle Bob Limps

The Tasmanian Sidewinder

Uncle Bob and Dark Henry

The Fish

The Russian Spy

The Great Wild Goat Race

Uncle Bob: One Christmas

INTRODUCTION

Nearly half a lifetime ago, I stopped at an unremarkable roadside spot in the hot dry north of Australia. It was somewhere between Alice Springs and the Queensland border, where distance is measured in hours, and a new shoelace could be half a day away.

A moment in time, a place beyond normal, yet a convergence of fate changed the way I saw life.

At that place I struck up a conversation with a stranger.

I know I’m not very good at remembering people’s appearance, what they wore, what colour their hair was, nor their eyes or shoes. I’ve been told that many times. It’s just not me.

It’s the stories people tell that stay in my memory, that connect us. Not just the words they share, but the way they tell their story.

The man was older than me—old enough to be my uncle.

He was not particularly striking in looks—a bit taller than average, pepper-coloured skin and remarkably hairy. He was wearing a wide-brimmed hat, checked shirt, and baggy trousers that reflected the life of a hardworking man—heel-high riding boots, and a silver-coloured horse with black socks and collar. He was neither much of one thing nor much of the other—not loud, not fast in tongue nor movement, but with a mousetrap mind—ever alert and ready with wit and wisdom.

He talked of the last time he had visited this place we were at, of the large mob of cattle he had led through here as a drover. As he spoke to me, I wanted to melt into his memories, to see the world he saw, to ride under ‘the sunlit plains extended’, with no clocks, no traffic, no signposts, no cares.

At least that’s what I saw at first. A simple life with one path, one destination, a never-ending adventure.

But very few things are that simple.

As it happened, on the day I first met Uncle Bob, I became possessed with a need to learn of a life lived in the wide outback of an Australia that is being lost more and more in this hectic century.

Fortunately, this stranger, for some reason, recognised my hunger, and from that time he has fed me many tales of his adventures.

He became my adopted uncle, my loyal correspondent, and taught me many lessons about life.

Never let the big in life smother your own smallness. Just use it to grow.

If something seems too hard, or even impossible, it just might be an opportunity to be wonderful.

Never stop learning, and if you don’t know, have a guess, a try.

Trust is another word for believing.

What people see in you is whatever you give them.

And some of the best mums smoke cigars!

So that chance meeting gave me a new window through which to view my world.

Uncle Bob is no longer young in body, but in the autumn of his life, he still has a young person’s mind—sharp, alert, and ready to do whatever life tells him to do.

He is kind, caring, generous, and clever; strong in body, mind, and soul; a great storyteller and a good person.

Recently someone said to me, ‘I don’t know if Uncle Bob is real, but I believe in him!’

Let’s believe in him. Let’s believe that people can be bigger than anything that steps on their shadow. Let’s believe that those hills and mountains are paths to higher things.

I hope you enjoy reading a few of the stories of my Uncle Bob.

HOW UNCLE BOB WAS DISCOVERED

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My Uncle Bob was not so much born as discovered. One morning in the predawn light, an oyster splitter passing through Derby on his way to Broome stopped to check a hole in the trunk of a boab tree and saw two tiny wiggling legs in the dark opening. Upon inspection, he found that the legs were attached to a beautiful baby boy, who looked no more than a month old.

Not wishing to be delayed on his trip, nor to answering difficult questions, he took the smelly pink parcel to the local post office, left it by the front door wrapped in his thin woollen singlet, and continued on his journey.

In Uncle Bob’s life, that was the last part the oyster splitter played. They discovered who he was because his name was on the singlet, but no one was able to get more than a sentence from him concerning the matter of Uncle Bob’s discovery.

At six thirty that morning, Miss Mary O’Toole passed the post office on her way to the bakery, saw the bundle on the doorstep, and took it home. She fed it a meal of vegemite sandwich, and at nine thirty, she returned it to the post office. Miss O’Toole