Category Archives: Experiential

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Itinerary, Prepping Kandu

Date Certain: Baja Ha-ha

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Baja Haha

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 BajaMapin 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

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.

Comfy Cozy Neighbors
Comfy Cozy Neighbors
No Room For Momma
No Room For Momma
Momma Bird's Empty Nest
Momma Bird’s Empty Nest
Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

The (805) Perspective

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?

Area Code Beer
Area Code Beer
Educational, Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Better Now Than Later

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.

Can we glue it?
“Can we glue it?”
Educational, Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Pain in the Aft

Living aboard Kandu, our Tayana Vancouver 42, in Ventura creates an unexpected feeling of pointless discomfort, akin to living in an RV on one’s driveway while purposefully avoiding the house.  We sense how we could so easily be more comfortable living inside a house.  In some ways it feels like we are unnecessarily taxing ourselves, navigating the confines of boat living.  The challenge comes from straddling two different lifestyles.  We have not moved aboard to live a landlubber’s life on the water, as many of our neighboring live-aboards have done.  If we had, we would be making different choices, like clothing, galley, and on-deck storage solutions.  We are, instead, preparing for long-distance, mostly tropical, cruising and making decisions based on that future paradigm.  In some ways, we’re becoming more like the proverbial fish out of water . . . and sucking air is not enjoyable.  It’s not evolution; it’s de-evolution.  The extra burden comes from having to support a land life, which is so much easier from a house; while at the same time incorporating far-away, self-supportable, small-spaced, warm weather, humid solutions.  Schooling and extracurricular activities and all the inter-family networking still occur with homebound counterparts we meet from Bryce’s and Trent’s schoolyard friendships.  We’ve done it before, when we lived in a house, and we did it well.  But things are obviously different now.  In the morning, we will design a large no-see’m net to fit over our cockpit.  I’ll order the materials over the Internet, and Leslie will sew it using our bulky and powerful sailmaker’s sewing machine.  I make lists as to what all needs to be done before I feel we can safely and comfortably leave America and sail to fifty other countries across multiple oceans and seaways.  In the afternoon, we drive to soccer practice, attend a science fair or a choir performance, or drive to LA for a Cub Scout event.  Sleep-overs on the boat, while it’s torn apart and we have to use facilities that are 1/4 block away, are difficult to consider and thus, for now, avoided.  We do much of what we did from a 1500 sq. ft. house, only now from within a 250 sq. ft. sailboat in repair/upgrading.  For this, it’s cramped living.  Leslie estimates everything requires 40% more effort to get anything done, especially daily chores like cooking, dishes, laundry, typing emails, taking a shower, etc.  Trent states, “You know what I’m looking forward to when we get back?  Moving into a house.”

Of course we recognize that this is a transitional period, perhaps the most difficult part of the whole process (so the experts told us last week at the Strictly Sailing Pacific show, another landlubber activity).  We get how important it is to get the living space right, to adapt it for our needs and preferences, to work out the kinks . . . but we sometimes feels like we’re Noah, getting ready for the big flood—we’re the only ones in the village preparing a boat for a five-year “flood.”  As a result, sometimes you feel you’re a little crazy, and have to talk yourself into the dream again, remind yourself of all the great reasons for taking on such an unconventional and all-encompassing journey.  I’m glad we have the time we do to get ready.  We need it.  We’re getting a lot of great work accomplished.  And there’s no place I’d rather be than in Ventura, doing all this “transitioning” . . . but it’s still a pain in the aft.

It’s the night before Easter.  Time to go to bed so the Easter bunny can hide baskets and eggs for Bryce and Trent.  One thing we’ve learned about a cruising boat–there are nooks and crannies aplenty within which to hide things!

Pain in the Aft
Return Trek from Shower
Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Movin’ On Up, to the “V” Side

When we moved from Westchester to Ventura, CA; Bryce and Trent left the only neighborhood they’ve ever known.  Like most parents, Leslie and I were concerned how moving would affect our sons.  Unexpectedly, it was a positive change.  Trent immediately made excellent friends and loved his new school.  Bryce captured the lead in several stage productions and enjoyed Wood Shop.  Both earned the equivalent of “straight ‘A’s’.” Although they no longer attend piano lessons, swim team practice, or Cub/Boy Scouts; they are active, bicycling to and from school and surfing regularly off Mondo Beach.  We’re so pleased for their healthy transition and proud of their good work.  Here’s a scene from Oliver that Bryce and Leslie performed together at Ventura’s Festival of Talent last month:

 

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Lights, Camera, Sizzle

http://youtu.be/VeOXI2Is6SE

Four years ago, Brian Boring and Jeff Bown put together this sizzle reel to help them pitch a reality show they wanted to produce about our trip.  This was before we even purchased a boat.  So we borrowed yacht club members Tom and Pat Ramey’s new boat.  My aunt put together a crowed of friends and relatives to play along as our bon voyage party.  Brian and Jeff did a good job.  Nothing ultimately came of it, but it was fun pretending and a great experience for all involved.  Hope you enjoy

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Farewell Email to Sony Pictures

My 12-year-old son asked me how I felt leaving work after 20 years.  “I feel grateful,” I said.  “I got to work on some very cool projects, with some really smart people, at a major motion picture studio, helping people entertain the world.  I walked by Spider-man, Batman, Captain Kirk, and Thor.  I feel blessed.  But most of all, I’m looking forward to the future, spending time with you, your brother, and mom.”

My 10-year-old son started to ask me a question, then stopped, mumbling, “It makes me cry to ask the question.”

“What is it, Trent?” I asked.

“Well, . . . you have a lot of friends at work.  Aren’t you gonna be sad to leave them?” he asks and sniffles as tears well up in his eyes, remembering what it was like to move to a different school.

“Yes, I am going to be sad, . . . very sad.  But we can still write each other and they can watch what we do on our website,” I said. “Let’s give them something to see.”

I started as a laborer in the stock room and leave as a vice president.  What a great ride.  Believing we are the sum of passions pursued, I’m pleased for what was and for what is to come; for both me and the studio.  Sony Pictures Post retains managers and operators capable of developing the world’s smartest, most innovative, most modeled post operation.  The group will always be of great interest to me. In my own corny way, I paraphrase a line from Out of Africa: “Sony Post may not always remember me, but I will always remember Sony Post.”  I don’t know whether I’ll start something right away with another post opportunity, or if instead I’ll press the “pause” button on the career for awhile and the “record” button on the family.  Whatever happens, it won’t be boring.  But, I’ll miss my Sony family.

Thank you for your well wishes, love, and support.  May your wildest dreams come true, your passion and life merge into one, your fantasy be your reality.

Check out our website www.rigneyskandu.com, post positive comments, “Like” us on Facebook (when we get a FB page), watch our channel (once we get it one up), and stay in touch. Don’t make Trent sad.

All the best,

Eric

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Soft Hands

“Your hands are sooo soft,” Leslie coos in my ear, her thumb stroking the inside of my outstretched palm as we dance across the Valentine’s Day dance floor.  Her knowing tone supports her awareness that soon, soft hands will no longer be the case.  These hands that now gently guide her across the dance floor to the beat of a Neil Diamond impersonator are the unblemished hands of a motion picture executive and a father of two young boys.  For the past 20 years from a climate-controlled corner office in Southern California, these hands drove cars, tapped computer keyboards, and held phones; growing more pink and tender with each passing year. Leslie shared the ups and downs of my professional growth, from laborer to executive, the struggles and triumphs.  Well aware of the effort and sacrifice it took to get us where we are today, her eyes clearly indicate a relish for our current circumstance, inhaling the memory, and appreciating the effort it took to make my hands so smooth.

It’s our twenty-fourth Valentine’s Day celebration together, and I adore her as if it were the first, well okay, . . . the second.  We spent our first Valentine’s Day as a couple apart.  I was five hundred miles out to sea from Los Angeles, captaining a 32-foot sailboat bound for the Marquesas Islands.  She was finishing her French Literature studies at UCLA.  After graduating, she would meet up with my crew and me in Hilo; and sail through the Hawaiian Islands and from Kauai to San Francisco with us.  Sailors call this long distance, casual type of sailing, “cruising.”  Leslie knows what open ocean sailing and anchoring do to a sailor’s hands. Pulling sailing sheets, lifting galvanized anchor chain, and tools would soon be the objects these hands hold.  Additionally, the elements of sand, sun, and sea play their role, transforming princely baby-bottom palms into salt-encrusted instruments of adventure.  What does Leslie know that should make her wax so?  She knows that soon, we will be out to sea again—this time together, with our two young sons; for an undetermined duration; possibly 5 years . . . or more.

Righthand 2014

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Prepping Kandu

Habits Strangely Missed

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My first day as a non-working member of Sony Pictures was odd.  I awoke as normal, 5:30 a.m., but didn’t shower.  I took some time to blog.  Leslie made breakfast as normal. But then I didn’t have to rush off.  I handled the business of transitioning my cell phone plan.  It was stress-less because I didn’t have to be some place else.  I even joked with the associate on the other line, learning a lot about Mali, his home country.  Trent and I left the boat and drove off to consolidate items in a couple storage locations around Ventura. We cleaned the minivan and lunched at a place we hadn’t been before.  It was good.  I find myself considering cost unlike before, noting the prices on the menu, wanting to be economical.  When I worked at the studio, lunch was my little reward to myself for going to work.  That’s not necessary now.  The best part about yesterday was that I was able to work well with Trent.  He said he liked working.  I was patient and helpful with him.  He found it fun to work on tasks that are simple.  It felt good just to hang with him.  Being April 1st, we played a trick on his brother.  Bryce took it in good humor, catching me soon after on one of his own April Fool’s pranks.  It was a good father and sons day.

In order to save some money on my phone plan, I had to drive back into Culver City.  I called one of my former managers along the way, just as I had always done before leaving Sony.  In a strange way, I liked the whole habit.  Driving over a hundred twenty miles, checking traffic conditions, streaming “This American Life” over the car’s sound system, felt normal; especially driving up PCH at sunset.  But this time, I wasn’t mentally exhausted when I got back to the boat.  We watched “Life of Pi” together.  It was more comfortable this time.  I didn’t carry the struggles of work.

My first day away from Sony did not bring a feeling of empowerment and invigoration as I had expected.  Instead, I feel like I’m starting my own business, a family business. I’m excited by the challenge.  Best of all, I am enjoying the simple tasks.