This is by far the hardest Story I have ever written. Because our mums were friends living in the same street, we played together as infants. Same primary school, same high school. From early on I was mesmorized by this big blonde boy. Friends. Skateboarding was the craze and you dominated in our street. You even showed me how to make a skateboard from your mums clothes press. Sorry Ricki. We trained together after school on his weight bench in his bedroom. It was then he told me stories of his friend Ian who was into this sport called surfing. Holidaying in Newquay and with his skill of skateboarding he adapted easily and within a short time was a very good surfer. He would return from his adventures from Thurso with incredible stories, asking me to join him when there was space in a car. Having no skill and no surfboard sadly stopped me and I feel sad I never met the close circle of friends he developed within the scottish surfing comunity. Friends Forever. In 1990 after keeping in close contact after Mark moved to Newquay, I made the decision to move there myself. Mark being his kind self organised a room in the flat he was living in. It was Mark who taught me surfing, my number one passion to date. He made me my first surfboard and my new life began. He had a beautiful baby boy and gorgeous girl on his arm. He was bronzed and could surf. He worked in a surf shop and again helped me getting a job there. We surfed when we could and started working together on the door at Tall Trees as doormen. Mark, Angie, Kai and I traveled to Scotland where Mark took me surfing to his local spots on the East coast. I have vivid memories of surfing a spot called Coldingham, as I'm sure Angie does. It was big dark and cold. I struggled in the big surf, taking 2 attempts to get out. I spent the rest of the sesh sitting with Angie and Kai watching the big chap surfing with finesse and skill, only the most clever waterman could muster. I had a motocrosser and although skilled as Mark was, he crashed one day and ripped his knuckle off his thumb. I remember us laughing to the point of crying......not realising the dire affect it may have on his shaping career. Mark left for Australia early '91 and on his return told me of this amazing place that I had to visit. Sadly a girlfriend of mine used his prized camera for surf pics and through carelessness on my behalf the camera was ruined. We fell out. In '94 my father died. He and Mark were close and in a surf shop called Smile we met up. Tears flowed and right there we made this pact.... Friends forever whatever. He made me a new surf board on the bottom he wrote those words. I still have it thank goodness. Life went on and we grew close and the best of friends once more. I became godfather to his first son and spent weekends together when we could. I had a growing family and Mark having found God was doing more and more for his faith. Rich and Jen Coleman became very close and we shared some great times together. My wife Letitia and kids loved Mark and his family, Letitia becoming very close with Angie. My youngest shared the same birthday as his youngest and were best friends. In 2003 I decided to visit Australia and we fell in love with the place. Letitia and I made the decision to emigrate. By this time Mark and I with our families spent most of our spare time together. He was the hardest working man I had ever met. I would visit him as he was making my next board I would watch him taking a 1/1000 of an inch of the rail. He was the purest technician I have ever met. The boards he made were always great boards and I still have a carbon Mal he made for me and the board from 94' Now my most highly prized possesions. As far as I was concerned he made the best surf boards in the world. He was also a very humble person. From early on he never spoke badly of anyone, he didnt care for materialistic things and would never put himself first......ever. He won a coveted award in a local magazine for best shaper, he never told me, that was Mark. In the last few days before we left for Oz, Mark was helping us pack, I sat down outside my house and gave him my new Nikon camera. He understood and we cried and had a hug. It seemed right. I cant write properly now as the tears are flowing again, but I phoned him on Hogmanay. It was the last time I spoke to him. Big chap.......if you can hear me now, thanks for all the great times we shared together, without you I would not have met my wife, would not be living in Oz, would not have found surfing. As you wrote in that book you gave to me as we left for Oz. 'There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.'