NSW Nordic Ski Club
Bruce Collins
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An Adventurous And Inquiring Mind
I've known Bruce for 15 years. We met through the ski club sometime in 1984, I think. I can't remember exactly how we met - whether it was on a ski trip or at a club meeting, but Bruce would know. He'd be able to tell me the exact date, and what the weather was like and what happened at the club meeting. An incredible memory.
Along with his memory was his excellent knowledge of geography. He'd be able to tell you for instance all the countries which bordered the Danube river, or the capital of Chad. It was very difficult to find any place at all he hadn't heard of. But he also had a very bad knowledge of geography when it came to skiing - he would often get lost.
We became friends almost immediately and through the years we have embarked on many adventures together both in Australia and overseas. Bruce had a passion for skiing, and his face would light up at the very thought of going on a ski trip. I have many fond memories of going on ski trips with Bruce.
As well as skiing, Bruce also enjoyed the surf, and this was something fairly easy for him to indulge in since he lived for many years close to Cronulla beach. I never had the opportunity to go surfing with him, but we did go bushwalking together. It was on one of these bushwalks that we first started doing experiments in telepathy (with some success). Bruce had an open mind, and was willing to experience things for himself rather than take somebody else's word.
Bruce exhibited an exceptionally fine mind - and he was intrigued by the larger as well as the smaller things, and things out-of-the-ordinary.
One story that comes to mind was once when we were coming home from the snow, I started to drink one of those little orange juices that you get in the box with the straw. But it tasted off. I was driving so I gave it to Bruce to get rid of. He wound down the car window and squirted out the juice. He was fascinated by the pattern the juice made in the wind as it came out the straw. Mind you, the fellow in the car behind wasn't too impressed.
On another occasion we were up in a hut high on the Tasman glacier in New Zealand and somehow the subject of conversation turned to satellites. Bruce decided to work out from first principles - in his head - how high a geostationary satellite needs to be. It doesn't matter whether he got the right answer or not, the point is he was willing to give it a go. He thought it could be done and he went ahead and did it.
Bruce had clarity of thought and an amazing ability to focus those thoughts. He had a love of life and nature, and a sense of adventure and daring - from kayaking with whales near California to cross country skiing in Poland.
And of course his unique sense of humour - which I'm sure you all know very well. Anyone that knows Bruce will know of his puns. Every now and then he'd come out with one that would have me in stitches for ages.
Over the years Bruce became like an elder brother to me.
Bruce's middle name is Vernon which means 'of Spring' or 'flourishing'. To me Bruce was like a little piece of Spring. He wasn't happy all the time but whenever he came into the room, to me it was like Spring-time and that's the part of Bruce I'll keep in my heart.
Greg Polson
A Tribute To A Special Guy
Bruce Collins was known to many in our ski club, our ski family. He was eminently family because he treated everybody as though they were family; to be welcomed, respected, engaged in conversation and cared about. In this very tribal word, he was its antithesis, truly a bonding guy who was interested in, and cared for, others.
I can't remember exactly how or when I met Bruce, but he could have told me. He could have told me the day, the place and the gist of the conversation, perhaps even the weather and sundry other information. He was like that - a walking encyclopedia of facts large and small, but also with an intellect to analyse the more pertinent facts to useful ends for his employment, for which many beat a path to his door, even from the other side of the globe. At other times, - most of the time, as his mind was never idle, he would play with conundrums, just for the pure pleasure of solving the puzzle, or testing the limits of his capacity to understand this fascinating universe.
There were no facts, disciplines or issues that were too mundane or irrelevant to warrant his interest - in that respect, as in his interpersonal relations, he was the most egalitarian of people. Not for him to spurn the fluid dynamics of an empting fruit juice container at 100 km/h, or to ponder the elevation of a geostationary satellite from first principles knowing only his grandmother's age - in Kurdish (only a mild exaggeration). He did it for the pleasure and was almost as bemused as we friends and lesser mortals that he could conduct such mental gymnastics.
If you had asked him why his interest ranged to such things, he would in all probability have given a reply that would have epitomised many a scientific genius, "How can you decide what is useful to think about until you have thought about it?" Indeed, how can you? Many a discovery has been made by examining what many others have over looked. And anyway, has Bruce would have told you, it's fun!
In the same way Bruce had retained what most of us never re-discover after childhood - that life is meant to be a joy. It is meant to be lived to the full, wondered at, marvelled at and rejoiced in. Bruce's passion for skiing lit up his face in child-like joy that he was unabashed to show - like a child. Passion and excitement are life. Bruce lived his life in that manner, enjoying the moment, doing no one harm and taking the bad uncomplainingly as easily as he took the good.
Bruce did not have an average life and it certainly was not an easy one, despite having a gifted intellect. He was not the most gifted physical athlete, nor particularly well at times - particularly as a child - and he suffered from bouts of depression and self-doubt perhaps more than the average. Not for the want of trying, he only found his elusive soul mate at 42, less than two years ago - or rather fate and each other found them. So, he was not eternally happy.
He knew the shadows that must be present for someone who holds their life in the sun as he did, just like an alpine daisy beneath the limitless promise of a clear blue summer sky. The crispness of a white paper everlasting must necessarily have an attendant shadow, but the shadow only serves to emphasis its whiteness even more - it is axiomatic I hear him say. Bruce stood tall in the alpine meadow, ever seeking the sun - the positives in life, whilst accepting what shadows there must be, with grace and good humour.
He always tried his best, did his best for his friends and he was always there for you. And not just on a ski trip. On many a trip he would be towards the back of the group, not necessarily because he could not keep up with the vanguard, because he invariably could - somehow (the bastard!) - despite not running, cycling or working out in the gym and particularly despite having a faulty heart valve. No, rather it was because he was helping those who might lag - and helping the leader maintain peace of mind that the tail-enders could not escape Bruce's photographic memory or care.
I know that he and his partner of too brief a time of shared life, Helen, were both caring and attentive of myself and their other friends. I feel that I have lost a family member - a brother, a soul mate, a gentle person with a capacity to inspire passion, self confidence and security of a loving friendship.
However, I have not lost it. The strength of his life and his caring soul is that he will live on in all the hearts that he touched and bonded. His heart may not have been strong, but my heart is stronger for his presence in my life. And I know that it is true for Helen and his other friends. Our care for others is strengthened and our passion to live our lives positively is renewed. Thank you Bruce. May you rest not in peace, but live in our hearts - our vibrant hearts.
Long live joy!
Hugh Cross
Bruce & Tantangara
It was on a weekend in August this year that Bruce and I drove down to the snow together. His poorly functioning heart valve was reducing his fitness level so we decided to do an easy going day tour from Dead Horse Gap. Escaping the rather patchy snow cover along the Thredbo River we climbed up to Brindle Bull Hill and looked across to Thredbo and the Ramsheads. The snow was fantastic up there, an area not much visited but so easily accessible. Bruce spoke of how much fitter he would be after his new heart valve.
It was snowing lightly most of the day and this led to the inevitable speculation about whether Mt Tantangara would be skiable the next day. We drove up to Cabramurra for the snow "ball" that night but, alas, there was almost no cover at that end of the park and
Tantangara once again remained on the Bruce Collins wish list. Many of us will never hear the name of that elusive mountain without remembering Bruce Collins.
On the drive back to Sydney on Sunday night, we were startled by the biggest moon we had ever seen coming over the horizon. Along with plenty of scientific debate about the reason a moon near the horizon is bigger and how to prove or disprove the prevailing theories, we found time to stop and wonder at this beautiful marvel of nature - a very spiritual shared experience.
Bruce, I miss you.
Colin Ridley
Tantangara & Bruce
Bruce loved snow covered mountains and enjoyed overseas trips with a firm called Waymark, operating from London, which we recommended to him. Over the past 14 years, both Bruce and ourselves have almost annually arranged a trip to Tantangara Mountain in the northern end of the Kosciusko National Park, one of his favourites. We will always remember the sparring between us as to who would be successful each year, as there was never enough snow for both trips to make the summit.
Join us early in August 2000 for a memorial trip to Tantangara Mountain, from where Jagungal partially hides behind Tabletop on the same bearing.
Marilyn and Henry Fooks
Bruce and Karhus
Bruce Collins (while executing some perfect teles on Anne Mackenzie's Selwyn lift skiing trip) to Kathy Husselbee (who firmly believes Karhu stands for 'straight line' in Norwegian) "See Kathy, Karhus DO TURN".
Later, over a coffee "Kathy, I liked my Karhus so much, after the first pair wore out I bought a second pair".
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