Our Marty

Martin Gerard Dumas

This is Martin’s site. Martin is our son, brother, father, husband, friend, nephew, cousin. . . and so much more.

Born – Sydney, Australia – September 8, 1972

Mom and Dad moved to Canada in ’73 to Vancouver, BC.

Vancouver will always be Martin’s city. He knew it well, walked it over many times, rode the trails in the woods skirting the city – whether it was the UBC Endownment Lands or the North Shore trails on his mountain bike. He rode the streets skateboarding, he skied the mountains early morning before the lifts would open, rip down the yet untouched slopes of Cypress and come out and get to work.

Martin is our oldest brother. Trailing after him is 5 sisters, a brother, two more sisters, another brother, and then one more sister, born when he was almost 24.

He was always pretty gentle, and kind and a bit of a joker. He was quiet mostly, but he had presence. Everyone knew and loved Martin. or Marty.

Martin went to Vancouver College which went right through highschool. There he had many cousins, and friends who came to know him and dub him as ‘The Phantom’. He had a habit of appearing quietly, perhaps staying for a while, and when you looked for him again…he had gone, disappeared as silently as he had appeared. He held this trait right through to the end. You’d never know when he may come or go.

Martin was so talented in everything he pursued. He took everything to ‘the next level’. Not for acknowledgment, nor publicity, nor for kudos. He just was that focused and passionate about what he did. Martin was not a team sports player. There are a few of us like that in the family, he sought out the depth and freedom of pursuits that took him to a place of absolute zen and being in the moment where sometimes that moment would verge on going over the edge and ending in disaster, but when he was focused and feeling it – it was a thing of beauty. To see him do it, and for him to experience it. He knew when he was in the zone and nothing could break his focus. Mind you, there were times when he didn’t pull off the manouever he was executing. Sometimes to hilarious results like in skiing where I’d see him tumbling down the mountain side unbelievably clearing cliffs in his tumble to come out unscathed at the bottom – to not coming out so well at all. The skateboarding accidents he had were in the end, traumatic. More than just in the moment.

But this was Martin. He didn’t dwell on it, he didn’t let those wipeouts stop him. He just healed and got right back into the swing of things.

Martin had a full life. He would have loved a whole lot more of it. But nature, and society (as he felt) was not so kind to him in the end. He struggled a lot in his later years with health issues that for a super athlete would have been unimaginable to endure, where much of his soul seeking came from physically and mentally being engaged in those activities such as skiing, surfing and skateboarding.

…more to come soon..

Martin the surfer…the water had a hold on him. Beckoned him, soothed him. Frozen or liquid.