2002 Bali bombings: Geoff Thwaites on the moment he knew he lost son Robert

A father has revealed the ongoing toll of the loss of his son – and how he could still be alive if he’d only been delayed by a couple of seconds. SPECIAL REPORT

It feels like just yesterday.

The pain and grief Geoff Thwaites feels at the loss of his son, Robert, has not dulled in the 20 years since he was ripped away in horrific circumstances.

Thwaites, 79, still remembers with crystal clarity the moment he watched the chaos unfold on television in the immediate aftermath of the 2002 Bali bombings.

It was about 11pm on October 12, 2002, when three bombs were detonated in Kuta – two in popular nightclubs frequented by tourists, the Sari Club and Paddy’s Bar, and one in front of the American consulate.

Geoff Thwaites at the Bali Memorial in Nerang. Pictured with a photo of his son Robert Thwaites who died in the 2002 Bali bombings. Picture: Jerad Williams

The terrorist attack killed 202 people, including 88 Australians.

One of those was Robert – or “Bob” as his dad affectionately calls him – who had just stepped out of a maxi taxi in front of the Sari, set to celebrate a winning game of rugby league with his team the ISCI Komodos. Instead, he took the full force of the blast.

“He didn’t even have time to get a drink,” Thwaites says, his voice breaking.

At the time, he didn’t know 24-year-old Robert’s young life had been cruelly cut short. But Geoff Thwaites, who was living and working in Jakarta, where he had been training his son to take over the family business building industrial estates for the oil industry, knew Robert was in Bali with his team. He tried to call him but there was no answer.

“I thought, ‘he’d been playing football, he was probably on the grog’,” he says.

Bottom lip quivering, chin dimpled and tears running down his face, Thwaites remembers his “smart, compassionate and incredibly generous” son.

“The day he was killed, he was man of the match, he scored three tries,” Thwaites says.

“He was Mr Congeniality, all the spectators voted for (him as) their favourite guy.”

Robert was born at Southport Hospital in 1978.

“I used to carry him around in my shirt when he was a tiny little baby and his little head would poke out,” Thwaites says.

The family lived between Queensland and Indonesia throughout Robert’s early childhood but, by the late ’80s, Thwaites’ wife Syamsinar and their three sons, including Robert’s younger brothers Ben and Sam, were settled back on the Gold Coast and Geoff Thwaites continued to fly back and forth.

Robert Thwaites in 2002.

“What I see now is the two brothers, they’re rusted together at the hip, you can’t separate them, they share everything together,” Thwaites says.

“So it (the loss of Robert) really glued them together.”

Robert was, in many ways, “just a regular kid” but his dad always knew he was “pretty smart”.

“He would always pick up these awards for sports and academia,” Thwaites says.

“He was sensitive but in control. You never, ever saw him angry.”

He relished being a big brother and looked after his siblings. “We have photos of him always trying to pick up his younger brother Sam,” Thwaites says.

After Surfers Paradise State School and The Southport School, Robert studied business and civil engineering at Griffith University, graduating with first class honours.

“He got the business medal, the engineering medal and the university medal – he was the dux,” Thwaites says, brimming with pride.

“But he never displayed the fact he was clever – he didn’t show off.”

After the attack, the university installed a plaque to commemorate their much-loved former student.

“He was their man, he was the man everybody wanted to be with,” Thwaites says.

“I only taught him a few basic things. I said ‘forget the Ten Commandments, just focus on these three: don’t lie, cheat or steal. Get those under control and you’re going to be OK’.”

When his dad still couldn’t get in touch with Robert the morning after watching the 2002 atrocity unfold on the news, he couldn’t shake his concern.

Geoff Thwaites and wife Syamsinar and their sons Sam, Robert and Ben.

Four holes into a golf game with important business contacts, he said, “Excuse me, I’ve got to go” and made his way to Bali.

When he arrived that evening, Robert’s footy mates told Thwaites his son was missing and “it’s not looking good”.

But he says the reality of the tragedy did not hit him even as he walked into the morgue of the local hospital, confronted with “a stack of body bags” and asked “is he in one of those?”.

It struck him in the days that followed when a dear friend took him for a walk and handed him Robert’s passport.

“That was the end for me,” Thwaites says, through tears. “You can’t imagine. Even right now my bottom lip is quivering.”

The weeks that followed were a blur for Thwaites but, eventually, he got the call confirming authorities had Robert’s body.

He arranged for his son to be returned to the Gold Coast, where he is now at rest in a special place alongside his grandparents.

Thwaites was also the driving force behind the Indonesian-style stone memorial featuring a bronze plaque with the names of the 88 Australian victims. It was designed and made in Bali and shipped to the Gold Coast where it was unveiled at Allambe Memorial Park, Nerang, on the first anniversary of the attack.

Geoff Thwaites and wife Syam at a 2003 memorial for Bali victims at a memorial garden near the Gold Coast. Picture: Lyndon Mechielsen

Thwaites’ charity and philanthropy work earned him a nomination for Australian of the Year in 2007. He describes the recognition as “the pride of my life”.

Ahead of the 20th anniversary twilight memorial at the monument, Thwaites says he still feels the same level of intensity and raw emotion as he always has about the bombings.

To this day, he remains “too scared” to allow himself to think about what could have been and what life his promising son could have lived.

Recently poring over old photos and videos of Robert, Thwaites was “amused” to discover one his son had made in which he had dressed up as television presenters – a newsreader, sports announcer and weather person. “That brings it right back, it’s as if he was there in the room with me,” he says.

“There’s an understanding that it has been 20 years but it still feels like yesterday.”