Charles Robert Coules, "Chuck", came into this World on July 8th, 1943, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He grew up in Parker, Arizona where he spent his childhood rebuilding jalopies and running from the local sheriff when they would catch him drag racing. They finally caught him at the age of 17 and he was given the option of the military or jail. Chuck joined the Navy and served aboard the USS Hornet. According to his own account, he spent more time in the brig then his own bunk.
After leaving the Navy, Chuck worked hard until he was able to achieve his dream of owning his own business. Name a type of business and he probably owned one at one point in his life. He was a brilliant businessman.
Chuck had three daughters, Heather and twins Jennifer and Jolene. (Mind you he could not tell Jennifer and Jolene apart until they were adults and always referred to them as "twin" in an effort to cover up the fact that he was never really sure who he was talking to. We all knew.)
Though he owned a lot of businesses, his true passion was commercial fishing. He had several boats that listed the home port as Flagstaff, Arizona. Fishing allowed him to travel the World and avoid the nagging from his three daughters. His favorite bedtime story to tell his girls was about the shark he had to fight after it jumped on his boat and tried to steal his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Thankfully he always won.
Chuck passed on December 12th, 2018 and was preceded in death by his daughter Heather. We are sure that she was waiting for him with a pack of cigarettes and the lighter she stole from him. He is survived by "the twins", grandson Micheal, granddaughter Madeleine or "Rug" as he loved to call her and his jerk of a cat that is mean to everyone except him.
In lieu of flowers, we ask that you raise a coffee cup and toast to a life well lived.
"The clouds were building up now for the trade wind and he looked ahead and saw a flight of wild ducks etching themselves against the sky over the water, then blurring, then etching again and he knew no man was ever alone on the sea." ~Hemingway