Category Archives: Eric’s Posts

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Acronym Conversion

October 7, 2014 admin

Preparing Kandu over the past several years, vendors and boat owners have shared many negative (or “realistic,” if you’re a pessimist) expressions. Most common: “The best two days of boat ownership are the day you buy it and the day you sell it.” Second most common: “A boat is a hole in the water in which you throw money.” Third most common: “The definition of cruising—instead of everyday working on your boat in your home port, you work on it everyday in exotic ports.” Common: “Cruising is 99% boredom, 1% shear terror” and “No matter the perceived difficulty of a given task prior to its commencement, it will always turn out to be much more difficult in the end.” Not so common: “The skills required to maintain a boat are simple. The challenge is having to know all 10,000 of them.” Most painful: “BOAT is an acronym for ‘Break Out Another Thousand [$].’”

Truth lies in all these expressions. Worst is when they hit together like a shower of daggers attempting to assassinate your attitude, to weaken your will to press on with your goal to sail to foreign ports and adventures beyond. When preparing an older boat for long distance, long-term cruising, many disappointments strike each day, anything from “they don’t make these anymore,” to “you have to replace the whole thing/all of them”, to “but a professional installed it just last month,” and “how does hoisting my brand new $5000 sails break my professionally rebuilt $3000 furling systems and damage my sails?” (That was a bad day.)

In the morning, when a marine surveyor (a professional you pay to tell you what’s wrong with your boat) inspecting your boat tells you that you need to replace your manual bilge exhaust hose and your boat’s steering cable, he says it in a way that sounds like a boat owner can be done with it by day’s end. So when he leaves, you’re smiling and thanking him for finding the problems. After lunch, you call to order the parts. But it’s not easy. It winds up taking two days to research what is needed, another day to find and order the parts, two days to remove the dying unit, a half day to install what turns out to be the wrong part, a half day to order the right part, two days to receive it (that is if you paid the extra money to expedite shipping), and a day to install (note: it’s markedly faster the second time) and test/adjust/calibrate it. Don’t forget about the two new tools bought to do the job. And also don’t forget that the timeframe-equation is twice multiplied: firstly for the bilge hose and secondly for the steering cable. So two weeks and three thousand dollars later, you call the surveyor to tell him the things are done.

Were I to end the account here, the bleak comments about boat ownership hold true. Why then would anyone own a cruising boat? Well, hoses are important. Should one fail, your boat could sink. I knew this before I owned a boat, but after replacing them, I now have confidence in my bilge pump hose, and the other three hoses I replaced that the surveyor didn’t flag. I replaced the other hoses when, in removing the bilge hose, I saw that they were of similar type and poor condition. All the below-the-waterline hoses have now been replaced and tested with superior hose, new fittings, and the best hose clamps. Additionally, while fussing around to find the lay of the hoses’, I had the pleasure of peering into corners and recesses of my boat that I might never have otherwise (I ain’t scared).

Steering is also important (no, duh . . .). After removing the old and installing the new, I now know how my steering system works, every nook and cranny of it. I know how to find the part numbers and where to get parts (Edson). I installed and (4 times) adjusted the assembly myself. I improved the system by adding in-line grease points to the cable conduit to help better maintain the cable within, a feature absent from its previous installation. I learned, after some debate, which grease to use, for not only the steering cable, but for most of the boat’s moving mechanical parts (SuperLube Synthetic Grease). With all that I learned, I elected to create emergency spares. For bilge pump, I re-plumbed and re-wired a portable bilge pump (the fifth bilge pump on our boat). For the steering assembly, I put together a comprehensive kit. In the event that any of the steering components should fail, between the parts I set aside and the newly acquired knowledge on how to replace the parts, I feel confident that I could repair the steering, should the need arise.

So I come out of the ordeal with greater knowledge, greater skill (only 9,998 to go!), and greater confidence. Yeah, sure, I paid for it in money, time, sweat, and frustration. But there are worse ways to spend your time and money than on preparing your “space” ship for an extended world tour with your family. And in the end, I made several new relationships with really smart people. For me, BOAT now stands for, “Buying Our Adventure Time.”

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

School’s Out for Summer

June 15, 2014 admin

This week marks the end of a successful school year for Bryce and Trent and the beginning of a surf summer.

On Monday, I chauffeured Trent and Bryce to and from school aboard “Rebel Child,” my former boss’s tricked out Jeep, modified for a form of extreme off-road driving known as rock crawling.

A show car, it’s a real head turner. While riding shotgun, Bryce remarked how much he loved stoplights, getting a chance to see everyone’s reaction to the “crawler rig.” I dropped him off to a group of jaw-dropped, screaming girls. I later picked up Trent surrounded by a group of on-looking buds. As Trent described it, he had told his friends that he had a surprise for them after school. One classmate guessed it would be a new dog (something Trent really wants). Exiting campus, one of his classmates saw the Jeep with its 40-inch wheels, full armor, and large skull decal emblazoned across its doors and proclaimed, “What a cool car!” Trent said, “I know,” walked up to it and opened the front passenger door. “NO WAY!!!” said his blown-away friends as he climbed inside. I have to thank Tommy again for letting me do that for Bryce and Trent. It was so much fun.

Trent promoted out of fifth grade yesterday. He adored his teacher, Miss Bird, who understood and appreciated his qualities from the first day at, what was for Trent, a new school. She made him feel valuable at a time when he was vulnerable. She inspired him to be his best self. He beamed as she talked with him after the ceremony. Trent leaves Pierpont Elementary having earned excellent grades (top scores for two quarters) and having forged several friendships, most of all, Charlie. We see Charlie several times a week, visiting his family’s beach home or having him on board Kandu. As part of the class of 2014’s mural, Trent and Charlie have their initials permanently imprinted on the school’s perimeter wall. The last week of school included a pajama/movie day, an all sports-day, a beach day, and finally, and after-graduation pool party. Leslie and I are so pleased for Trent, and very proud of what he accomplished this school year in Ventura at Pierpont.

Big Gulp

Trent's Mural Initials — Trent’s Mural Initials

As Trent did with Pierpont Elementary, Bryce entered Cabrillo Middle School with practically no connection to anyone on campus. But unlike must young people his age, Bryce entered with cache, boldly walking on with his colored duct tape bowtie (he would later be referred to by his classmates as the “bowtie guy”). He left yesterday with a yearbook packed with praise and well wishes. Like a typical guy, Bryce enjoyed woodshop and PE the most. With his grade point average having floated between 3.75 and 4.0 throughout the year, he made honor roll (and yes, we got a bumper sticker). His school treated the entire honor roll to a day at Magic Mountain’s rollercoaster park, bussing them there and back. Of course Leslie didn’t miss the opportunity to “chaperone” the kids, getting to ride all but one of the roller coasters while the students did their own thing. Also, classmates who’d heard Bryce perform months earlier at Ventura High for the school district’s talent show, encouraged (begged) Bryce to participate in their school’s talent show. Last Thursday, Leslie and I attended Bryce’s performance of Train’s “Hey, Soul Sister” as he sang against a karaoke track to the entire school, one grade group at a time. The seventh-grade class greeted his introduction with screams and cheers. As a token of his gratitude, the day before the last day of school, we helped Bryce make 90 of his banana cream pie doughnuts, a treat he invented in the fifth grade: doughnut-holes piped with banana cream filling, dipped in glaze and graham cracker crumbs and topped with whipped cream. His gesture of appreciation was well received as made apparent in his yearbook where many praised his talents as a singer, baker, world adventurer, and all around cool dude—a remarkable combination that represents just a part of what Bryce is capable.

Bryce's School Year Ends — Bryce’s School Year Ends

Lastly, this week marked the beginning of what will likely be a surfing summer. After months of afterschool surfing soft-top short boards from Costco at Mondo’s Beach, proclaimed as Ventura’s Waikiki; we provided Bryce and Trent a private surf lesson from Jeff Belzer of Makos Surf. He taught much to us all: some basic surfing skills, practices, and exercises (and vocabulary); local surf spots; and the various characteristics of a surfboard and where to buy one. The latter sent us over to Robert Weiner, founder, owner, and renowned shaper of Roberts Surfboards. Rob patiently listened to what we learned from Jeff and to the boys’ opinions and hand selected two slightly used epoxy boards from his used board stock. Bryce and Trent surfed on them the next day. They liked one, but not the other, so we returned it as Robert suggested. Not having in stock another like the one the boys liked, he graciously pulled from his car his personal board and swapped it with the board the boys did not like. It not only matched the preferred board, it came with a dedication to himself embedded in the board: “Made for myself. Lord, thank you for this board.” With a surf camp starting next Monday, Trent and Bryce, and an invitation from Miss Bird, an avid surfer, to surf with her some day; the boys are well set for a surfin’ summer.

The Pipe at Surfer's Point — The Pipe at Surfer’s Point

Artist's Touch — Artist’s Touch

Gracious Icon

Robert’s Board. In the Background, Leslie’s Sailboat Races

Artist’s Touch

Gracious Icon

Robert’s Board. In the Background, Leslie’s Sailboat Races

http://youtu.be/EkhiSxaGMQ0

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Preparation Priorities

May 29, 2014 admin 1 Comment

With multiple demands, all important to our trip, priorities have been categorized into three ranked groups: 1) Kandu preparations, 2) skipper and crew skills training, and 3) multimedia production.

Kandu Preparations: Getting Kandu ready, is divided further into three ranked categories: a) below deck necessities, b) above deck necessities, and c) nice-to-haves, things to work on as we have time between now and October. The only other aspect of Kandu’s prep is an August haul out when we’ll replace the through-hulls (bronze ball valves that let seawater in or exhaust waters out) that are freezing up due to age and corrosion, and we’ll add a couple more coats of bottom paint to help inhibit marine growth on the hull. Anything floating in the ocean becomes host to a myriad of sea life, all of which negatively impact Kandu’s ability to glide through the water, slowing her down and making ocean passages longer.

Skipper and Crew Skills Training: Sailing Kandu’s various sails, navigation, anchoring and docking, safety drills and first aid, marine weather, radio and satellite communications, port departure and arrival documentation (vessel documentation, liability insurance, crew list and doc’s, ship’s inventory list; all in English, Spanish, and French) and creating a boat maintenance calendar. Safety drills include; fire, water entry, medical emergency, crew overboard recovery, and abandon ship. First aid training includes learning how to stitch an open wound, administer an IV, and administering a catheter. Communications includes email via high frequency radio and single sideband radio, and text via satellite messenger.

Multimedia Production: Producing and maintaining a YouTube channel, Facebook page, Twitter and Instagram feeds, trip blog, and educational partnerships with various middle school classrooms as well as youth chapters within the American Numismatic Association. As part of producing our YouTube channel, we’ll have to learn how to use our quad-copter (drone) to capture compelling establishing shots.

We hope to have Kandu ready by the end of June, have our skills ready six weeks after that, and use the remaining time to get our production channels up before our October 28th San Diego departure with the Baja Ha-ha Rally. One step at a time, day by day, first things first, everything is going to be okay . . . .

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Rest for the Wicked?

May 17, 2014 admin 1 Comment

For three and a half years, with the help of Uncle Bill, we’ve been refurbishing and preparing Kandu for our trip. As the departure date approaches, pressure to finish multiple projects increases. The family is tired of hearing me say, “I need to work on the boat.” Actually, until recently, Uncle Bill and Nick, our excellent youthful laborer, have been doing the bulk of hands-on work. I provided the direction, did research, made purchases, guided the process: in short, managed. Since my time at Sony came to a close 6 weeks ago, I’m very hands on now. Nick comes and goes engaged with other work outside Kandu, but Uncle Bill continues to support the effort in large ways, almost daily. He wants us to get Kandu sailing in a couple weeks so we can work during the week and sail the weekends, locally. I hope to have Kandu mostly ready for offshore sailing before Bryce and Trent finish school, June 12. We’ll still need the months up to October to finish moving on board and organizing the boat, as well as training (first aid, weather, email, navigation, videography, etc.). There’s a lot still to do and a lot to learn, but getting her moving again, after 18 months of hibernation, will feel good.

An interesting awareness is developing. Living on the boat, I’m literally living in my job; thus little time “away” from work. I’m usually only a step away from a project that beckons attention, and each step draws attention to a different task. It’s easy to get side tracked from one task to another. Uncle Bill has learned to finish tasks as soon as possible before starting another, offering a sense of accomplishment and relieving the burden rather than piling up the to-do list and adding stress. My challenge is that it often takes much effort to unbury a problem, preparing it for resolution. Once arrived, other problems are inevitably discovered, usually significant once that, taking advantage of their opportune exposure, are more easily addressed while accessible. This adds to the list and the cost of completion, but I think the proactive nature of such an approach is an investment in relief, in future problem prevention, while at the same time gaining greater awareness and knowledge of (and confidence in) the boat’s systems. I’m not expecting complete satisfaction, that is, I’m not expecting to have every inch of Kandu perfect before leaving. I strive to minimize potentially labor intensive or discouraging repairs that not only take time away from visiting the countries where we make port, but that also minimize incidences that might demoralize crew spirit. I want to see the countries we visit, not just Kandu’s engine room and local hardware stores. And I don’t want Leslie or the boys to think that cruising aboard a 42-foot sailboat is a big mistake. Of course there will always be issues that arise that need our attention, but I want to minimize issues related to the age of Kandu’s infrastructure. We are making significant progress toward completion. The list of what’s needed to be completed is dwindling.

Here are a couple examples from last week how tasks crop up. On Tuesday, while replacing the inverter (the $1200 device that converts 12 volt battery electricity (direct current) that’s in your car into the 110 volt outlet electricity that you plug things into at your house (alternating current)), the normally inaccessible water heater was nearly exposed. Even though it was not yet a problem, its age put into question whether or not to take advantage of its current access. Leslie and I decided to spend the $700 to replace the 6-gallon unit with an all-stainless steal 10.5-gallon model. Wednesday, after removing the current water heater, we found the plywood floor supporting it was soft and delaminating, indicating rot. So we added repairing or replacing it to our to-do list, pushing back by at least a week our original intention, a 2hr. inverter installation. And then Friday, while installing a folding step to allow us to exit the boat’s interior when the ship’s steps are temporarily relocated, I inadvertently drilled through the large portside cockpit drain hose in the engine room. On closer inspection of the hose, its wall seemed deteriorated enough to preemptively suggest its replace as well, an arduous job, that while we’re doing that suggests we might as well replace any other similar type hoses, like the one under the deteriorating water heater floor. So that’s how it goes. That’s why a completion date can be elusive.

Circumstances, not excuses; that’s what I’m facing—at least that’s my perception. Now add to these “circumstances” the stressful element that all this is occurs within the small space within which we actively live. The water heater described above resides under Leslie’s and my bed. Every evening, the home has to be put together (mostly), and every morning, it gets pulled back apart. It’s like converting your garage into your bedroom/kitchen/living room at night and back into a garage during the day. Although the conversion takes only about 20 minutes, it’s very disruptive and adds to the pressure of wanting to get the boat closer to completion while making living aboard as comfortable, or more accurately, not so uncomfortable as possible. Consequently, with living where I work, there’s little time off. If I have any energy, I find I want to employ it toward preparing or finishing the boat. Leslie questions whether I’ll ever be satisfied. I know I will. I see the end. I have the components I want, I just need to get what we’ve purchased installed or stowed on board, and then learn how to use them and teach the family how to use them.

The pressure to finish is 24/7, which provides few mental days off, which creates another problem: all work and no play makes daddy a grouch. Bryce, taking a line from a YouTube video, says I suffer from “relaxed a_ _hole face,” the expression my face takes when I’m thinking about things. So it’s apparent to my kids that I need to add balancing life’s priorities to my to-do list. A couple of weeks ago, while Leslie drove to LA to take care of some business and meet up with some colleagues, I made it a play day with Bryce and Trent and chose not to feel guilty. It was great. Trent remarked to me, “Dad, you’re smiling,” letting me know I was succeeding in my effort to change my “relaxed” facial expression. I guess the real work is in effectively balancing multiple priorities.

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Huff and Puff

May 7, 2014 admin 1 Comment

Waking up yesterday in the aft belly of Kandu, the boat is calm. Wondering what to wear this fine day, I check Ventura weather on my iPhone. The icon indicates wind, but the marina water is placid. I’ve learned that when it comes to wind, I can trust the iPhone. (I’m in the processes of installing the hardware and software necessary to receive NOAA weather forecasts. I’m just not there yet, so for now, iPhone is fine.) I look up the NOAA forecast for Ventura: winds 15-25, gusts to 30, increasing in the evening with possible gusts to 40. I check Kandu’s dock lines and cinch them up for the blow. Leslie and I are leaving to LA to fetch our 8’ Sabot sailboat, lent to a friend. As we walk away from the dock, ripples of wind erase away the mirror of what was the marina’s placid surface.

The wind performs as scripted. We get the boat safely back, atop our Toyota minivan, over Los Angeles County’s Sepulveda Pass on the 405 freeway and over Ventura County’s Conejo Pass on the 101, the gusts attempting to rip her off the minivan’s roof rack. We decide to leave the Sabot on the minivan’s roof, parked in the marina’s parking lot. Tomorrow it will be calmer and easier to maneuver.

Kandu is snug in her slip, as expected. While dinner is prepared, the boat rocks side to side. The wind howls through her rigging. I turn on the wind speed indicator. It’s blowing up to 25 mph. The cabin is warm. The boys are in shorts and T-shirts watching a video on our portable Sony Blu-Ray player, their filthy bare feet just above my sleeping pillow. New rule: Wash bare feet before entering cabin. After dinner, the boys finish their movie and go to their berths in the fo’c’s’l (short for ‘forecastle’). As Leslie and I climb into our shared aft berth, the wind builds. We are both very happy to be safely docked in our own slip, double tied; appreciating this won’t always be the case. We both know we will experience these types of winds while sailing and while at anchor, and thus thankful for not having to have to deal with it for the moment. For now, the big bad wolf can huff and puff all he wants. We’re safe, warm little piggies, being rocked gently to sleep in Kandu’s belly.

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Density of Days

May 5, 2014 admin 1 Comment

Friday demonstrates the range and depth of what we live, of how we drive ourselves to prepare for our voyage, while attempting to extract as much from our current culture and deal with the adverse.

In the morning, having not bathed in a couple days after working on the boat under warmer than usual weather, blasted three days by dry Santa Ana winds of the east, I wished to shower, but there was no time. Instead of driving Bryce to 7:30 choir practice, Leslie and Bryce wanted me to bicycle to the high school musical hall where they rehearse, a six-mile round trip. On the return ride to the marina, I swung by Trent’s elementary school to meet up with Leslie so we could bicycle back together. But she recalled she was to bring treats to the choir, so she took off back to the boat without me. When I arrived, she was rushing off. I pulled the aft cabin apart and prepared for the days work.

Work took its rhythm. My uncle and I prepared and feed work to Nick, a young man who’s been working on Kandu with my uncle for a couple years. I explain what I want done, my uncle figures out how we should do it, and then he and I go about getting the materials into Nick’s hands so that he’s constantly working. It’s seems efficient. A lot gets done. Before lunch, burritos I picked up from a local Mexican restaurant, the hot water heater I ordered a week before arrived. After lunch, we worked out the details of its installation, quite a puzzle. Satisfied with the plan, we moved as far along as possible before a lack of adaptive parts halted further progress.

UB and Nick Measure Options — UB and Nick measure optionsHow to make it all fit . . .Why is this always so complicated?

UB and Nick measure optionsHow to make it all fit . . .Why is this always so complicated?

In the meantime, Leslie helped escort Trent’s 5th grade class to the beach for a little fun before class ended at 2:20 p.m. Bryce gets out early on Friday’s which I forgot. I was hoping to bicycle back with him. But he knew Trent’s class would be at the beach and text me that he’d bicycle there to meet them there. Leslie, Bryce, and Trent bicycled back to the marina. Shortly after three, Leslie took off with Bryce and Trent. Bryce had another choir rehearsal and Trent had soccer practice. Both practices would end after 6. Work on the boat ended for Nick and my uncle around 3:30. I then worked to put the boat together before Leslie briefly returned before heading out again. She boarded Kandu before I could finish. She asked me to pick Bryce up so she could get the minivan SMOG checked before she would pick up Trent. She also asked me to start the rice for dinner, after I returned from picking Bryce up. Dinner was going to be squeezed between Trent’s AYSO soccer practice and Bryce and Trent’s YMCA basketball game, which started at 8. I finished putting the boat away, made a run to the storage unit to clear out the boat a bit more, picked up Bryce, and put the rice on just before Leslie arrived with Trent. While Leslie cooked dinner, I took a long hot shower and splashed on some cologne. I felt clean and crisp like a freshly laundered sheet pulled from a warm dryer. We ate a wonderful fish dinner, smothered in green olives, steamed broccoli spears, all on a bed of brown rice. I had seconds. Under the urging of Bryce and Trent, we threw the dishes in the sink and took off for for the basketball game. The boys team didn’t win, but they had fun playing. These days, they enjoy playing basketball a lot, even practice. When we got home, it was time for bed, although the boys weren’t tired. By 10, it was lights out.

Around 11 p.m, I started to feel some pain in my lower back. I hoped it was from moving the empty 10 gallon water heater in and out so many times, trying to find the best arrangement. By 11:30, I realized it was probably a kidney stone. I climbed out of bed, powered down a slice of wheat bread and some water to insulate my stomach before swallowing 800mg of Ibuprofen. At 12:30, with the pain increasing, I hunted for and found my Percocet, a stash set aside just for such an occasion. I took the one pill as prescribed and counted the minutes. By 1:15, the pain was intensifying, so I popped another Percocet, 5 hours earlier than prescribed, trying to get in front of the pain. At 1:45, I woke Leslie and told her we need to go to the local emergency room–now. This being my ninth stone, she knew what this meant and how crucial each minute was. I dressed for the hospital, my Adidas running suit and slippers, and then vomited in the sink after hastily pulling the dirty dishes out from it. Leslie got me to the hospital quickly. She drives fast even when she’s not taking me to the ER. She checked me in after the young pregnant lady in front of me wished me well as she stepped away from the ER window and around me where I laid curled in a ball on the floor behind Leslie’s chair. Oddly I felt a kindred spirit, albeit my labor wouldn’t produce a child. I climbing up on a gurney within 10 minutes (remember minutes count!). The nurse introduced herself and asked for my data while measuring my vitals. As she set me up with an IV in my right forearm, I order from her like a regular at a bar: “I’d like an injection of Toradol backed by a full bag of saline, . . . as soon as possible . . . please.” She asked the doctor and the doctor approved. With in minutes, the first of what would be three injections (the other two were a narcotic), vanquished my pain in a flushing wave of comfort.

". . . and there's another dropping on the left side too!!!" — “. . . and the cat-scan shows another stone descending on the left side too!!!”

By 7 a.m., Leslie and I were home again. The boys hadn’t even noticed we had been gone. At the basketball game the night before, a friend had text an offer to grab the boys for a play date for the whole day with her son, starting early in the morning at 8 a.m. Leslie text an offer to bring them to her and off went Leslie and the boys as I slipped soundly into a narcotic slumber.

Just another dense day in paradise. At least it’s not boring . . . .

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Itinerary, Prepping Kandu

Date Certain: Baja Ha-ha

May 2, 2014 admin 2 Comments

Today, May 1st, at the moment registration opened, at noon, we registered our entry with the Baja Ha-ha’s 2014 Cruisers Rally (http://www.baja-haha.com), celebrating its twenty-first anniversary. This event kicks off the start of the popular Mexico cruising season, getting boats to leave ensemble at the tail end of the North Pacific hurricane season–which technically ends mid-November. Boats from all over the North American west coast will meet in San Diego to commune with other cruisers with one common goal: head southward to adventure in foreign ports.

For many cruisers, sailing in a rally counters the benefit of self-sufficiency and remote access. How much of the native culture can a crew enjoy if they arrive with 400 other countrymen? And why would a skipper wish to adhere to someone else’s schedule? Before the crew even have a chance to truly explore the region, the rally is off and running. For these reasons, many cruisers abhor herd sailing, and would rather go it alone, quaint and free. So why would we want to join 125+ other cruising boats; more invasion than cultural exchange? Well, for us, we need to hurry down further south, no dawdling, and this event is quick and offers a “hard date,” a day of departure for which we must be prepared in order to participate. And while amazing and filled with wonder, a deeper dive into Mexico will have to wait until our return to North America. If we wish to cruise her more fully, which we may do, that’s easier than circumnavigating. Right now, we’re focused in Costa Rica, Ecuador, Peru, Galapagos, and Easter Island. Weather windows require we descend rapidly so we can be in French Polynesia and parts further before tucking out of the southern hemisphere’s hurricane season which starts in October.

For some of the boats, sailing down with the Baja Haha rally offers support for their first overnight sailing. For others, it’s a friendly way of getting to their traditional cruising grounds, a big reunion with many friends. For us, it’s several things: 1) It sets October 27 as the hard date for our first foreign port departure. Without a hard date, a skipper may delay departure until all is “perfect” with the boat, which seldom occurs. 2) It provides an opportunity to meet and travel with other cruising families, “kid boats,” with whom we may buddy boat well beyond Cabo. 3) It provides assistance in navigating Mexican paperwork requirements; customs, immigration, insurance, and fishing licenses. (Greater enforcement of existing Mexican import laws last year caused the temporary confiscation of several dozen foreign flagged boats, mostly American. Some were chained to docks for up to five months while the necessary paperwork was obtained and processed.) And 4) the Baja Haha Rally offers a festive, friendly, and organized way for the crew to kick off our voyage.

Along its way southward, the rally make port in two bays, Tortuga and Santa Maria, before arriving in Cabo San Lucas. The first is a sleepy fishing town with a fuel dock. The second is a fishing camp that only comes to “life” when the rally comes in, hosting a large party with food and music trucked in from far away. Were we to sail directly to Cabo, it would take about 6 days. With their activities, including Halloween trick-or-treat for kids dinghying from one boat to the next (boats are asked to bring candy for the event), the rally takes about 10 days, plus award ceremony and beach party days in Cabo.

What’s the benefit in registering as soon as registration opens? Registering early increases a boat’s chance of getting an expensive marina slip upon arrival in Cabo, offering hot showers and restaurants just steps away. There will be a limited number of slips available upon arrival. The rally organizers in collaboration with the marina officials reserve what’s available for rally participants and offers them to the boats in the order within they registered. Kandu will likely be among the first two dozen boats signed up, providing us good chance of securing a slip.

Although we haven’t officially added crew, we’re likely to add one or two to lighten the watch schedule, providing more sleep for all, and adding to the adventure. They would then fly out from Cabo with one or two more flying in to take their place, helping us get to Costa Rica and beyond. All this has not been sorted out or decided.

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Humming Along

April 28, 2014 admin

Last week, over Passover, for the first time and forever, two hummingbirds left the nest so painstakingly and exactingly constructed for their care, comfort, and development. It took several weeks for momma bird to build and decorate the nest before laying her eggs. Soon after, her babies broke their shells and grew as she faithfully fed them. At some point, the two chicks barely fit in the nest, and there was no longer room for momma. Thus, the goal toward which they had all endeavored arrived. It was time to go, and go they did to see the world as so many birds do in the spring. The nest is now empty and in our possession aboard our boat. As did the hummingbirds, we too left a comfortable nest, beautifully decorated. Until recently, our two young boys had known only one house as their home, growing there since days after birth. Yet for as long as they could remember, they’d been aware that someday we’d leave our home, board a boat, and sail around the world. Three months ago, we moved aboard Kandu. In a few months, instead of spreading our wings, we’ll unfurl our sails. In the meantime, we’ll practice sailing and navigating. And in October, we’ll begin our adventure south, toward the southern hemisphere’s spring and the great big world, similar to our hummingbird neighbors.

No Room For Momma

Momma Bird's Empty Nest — Momma Bird’s Empty Nest

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

The (805) Perspective

April 27, 2014 admin

When asked or given, Venturians don’t include the area code with their phone numbers. Whether home, mobile, or business; people in Ventura assume “805” is a person’s area code. Some trucks don’t include it across their painted sides (unless they work in Los Angeles County too). When asking for your number, store clerks start over if you offer an area code first. In greater Los Angeles, an area code is expected as part of any phone number. Angelinos are a little curious if it’s not 310, 818, or 323; and nostalgic when it’s 213. If they hear an area code that’s not familiar, and the circumstance isn’t obvious, like talking to someone from Santa Barbara (805), Orange County (714), San Francisco Bay Area (415, 510), or New York (212), they might ask about the area code. Perhaps the caller “immigrated” to Los Angeles from somewhere else in the US or Canada. It could be an interesting story. Of course between ever-multiplying area codes cropping up, various telephone plan schemes, and various other common possibilities, there may not be an interesting story. In any case, if a caller doesn’t offer the area code when providing their number; in LA, it’s considered . . . well—“provincial.” Angelinos think, “Isn’t it quaint that people live in a world where there’s only one area code, one common identifier.” In Ventura, it seems the only place it’s declared is on one of their locally brewed beers. If a person’s area code isn’t 805 and a Venturian hears an LA-based area code declared, he or she may feel a little sorry for the person, for the stressful urban life with which any Angelino must contend. Moving from Los Angeles to Ventura, with my LA transplant mobile number, I’m learning to begin with the phrase, “Area code 310 . . .” before offering the rest of my phone number. As we sail Kandu away from Ventura and into other countries, we won’t often have a phone number to offer. Whether Venturian, Angelino, or simply American; one might think, how quaint or how cut off it is to not have a phone number or to have one from another country. When that happens, when giving our number, we’ll be sure to include the country code along with however many digits their phone numbers have. Contrarily, we won’t expect our American friends, Venturians and Angelinos alike, to automatically include their country code as part of their phone number, because we already know it, or perhaps because, . . . well, dare I say—provincial?

Educational, Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Better Now Than Later

April 24, 2014 admin

Today, after a full day of working on Kandu with Uncle Bill and Jojo (pulling the water heater and install a multitude of electrical items), while I cleaned up down below and Trent & Leslie were at soccer practice; Bryce decided to do what he’s been asked many times not to do–play on the handrails. “It’s not like it’s gonna break, Daaad,” was often his reply, choosing to believe my instructions were intended to prevent fun rather than breakage or injury. He was surprised and I was frustrated when his jump-up/pull-up abruplty pulled down the 80″ solid teak bar fastened above the galley.

I bit my tongue. Fortunately no one was injured, nothing else was damaged, and we can likely repair it, making it even sturdier. I texted a photo to Uncle Bill. His response, “Better now than later.”

I told Bryce that we scold certain rambunctious behaviors because of their high injury or breakage potential, reminding him that jumping down the companion way was as equally foolish a practice. Will he learn better to follow orders and appreciate the intention behind his parents’ directives? Easier at twelve than 16, I suppose. I certainly hope so.

The Rigneys' Great Adventure

Category Archives: Eric’s Posts

Acronym Conversion

School’s Out for Summer

Preparation Priorities

Rest for the Wicked?

Huff and Puff

Density of Days

Date Certain: Baja Ha-ha

Humming Along

The (805) Perspective

Better Now Than Later

Sailing Kandu Around the World