The Name
The boat was originally named “Sea Fever” which made me cringe when I first heard it.  Definitely not my style and the previous owners must’ve agreed because they had removed the lettering on the hull before I even saw the boat.  Keeping “Sea Fever” was clearly not an option, so I got to work brainstorming a new name.

First and foremost – I wanted to name the boat something that reminded me not to take this whole venture too seriously.  I’m entering a world of yaaacht clubs and ascots, and sharing water with massive motor yachts and 60 ft luxury cruising ketches.  That’s (obviously) not me.

I’m sure that within that group, there are wonderful people, but it seems that they also think too highly of themselves at times.  A name like Rascal ought to keep me grounded.  I’m just a twenty-something dude going for a sail, after all.

I also wanted a name that was easily cursable.  I’ve no doubt that things on this boat will go wrong over time, and if I named the boat after a deceased relative or a high school sweetheart, it’d be hard to holler at her when a halyard broke, or the engine died.  Saying, “you damned dirty Rascal!” comes more naturally and I’m sure she’ll give it back to me from time to time.

I’m told that folks within the voyaging community quickly become known by their boat names rather than their given names and being referred to as “the Rascal” for the next few years sounds great to me.  Comical and accurate.

Renaming Ceremony
The renaming of a sailboat is pretty serious business.  Nearly everyone agrees that renaming a yacht brings bad luck upon it from that point forward, unless the proper precautions are taken.  While I do seem to have quite a surplus of luck, I didn’t want to tempt the gods, so I decided to conduct a traditional re-christening of the boat before my departure from Bellingham, lest Poseidon strike me down in the Pacific.

Some good friends from around town and a handful of boat neighbors attended and we all got pretty good and sauced up for the occasion.  To begin with, one must make an invocation to the gods and express gratitude that they’ve let the boat continue to “ply the seas” up until this time.  Following that, you must ask for permission to de-name the boat and ensure that all parties have stricken the old name from their memories.  Next, you go about the process of renaming the boat, and finally, you must ask the gods for their blessing upon the new name.  Throughout this process, there is a lot of pouring libations across the bow and into the sea.  None but the finest wine should be used, and I took the liberty of using a bota bag to disperse much of it into wind.  I have no doubt that the gods were pleased and I trust that I’ll have fair winds through much of my journey.  

Hailing Port
I’ve done a lot of moving around in the past few years and I had a tough time pinning down the best city to hail from.  Most of the places I’ve lived (besides China, haha!) have been pretty landlocked.  I was born in Salida, Colorado and though I didn’t spend much time there, I’ve always thought it was a charming little town.  Salida means “exit” in Spanish and thus it will be easy for folks to pronounce in the countries I’m planning to traverse in the next few years.  Comically enough, the only water in Salida is the Arkansas river, so I guess folks will just figure that I sailed right down it and through the Mississippi.  

Today marks my last day of work at Black Diamond.  

I started at BD back in the summer of 2009 as an intern in the RnD department while I was still in school.  At the time, I had been building skis from scratch in my garage and I realized that a job designing and building skiing equipment would be way more fun than designing HVAC systems or manufacturing heat exchangers in a company with tens of thousands of employees.  That realization set me free and I focused all my time and energy into getting a job at BD.  My brother was working with Andrew McLean at the time and he was able to give me contact info for a few folks at BD.  I sent dozens and dozens of emails and made a bunch of phone calls before I finally convinced the head of design to join me for lunch one day. I was just a young, dumb kid, bursting with enthusiasm and stuffing my face with a burrito, but I must've done something right because I eventually got my foot in the door.

After college, BD offered me a full time job making next-to-nothing, and I accepted it without a second thought.  I moved from the rolling hills of central PA to the booming metropolis of Salt Lake City and I was in heaven.  Having the Wasatch in my backyard was delightful and I skied every morning I could.  I was surrounded by folks that did the same and my stoke level was high.  I worked in Quality Assurance for a little more than a year, testing skis and boots and living the life I had always dreamed of.  

Eventually, I was offered a role setting up a brand new ski factory in China.  I knew it would mean more time away from home, but I was stoked on the new responsibility and I dove into it with reckless abandon.  It turned out to be a tremendously challenging project, but I had an incredible amount of support from a very talented, hardworking group of engineers and we got the factory up and running by the winter of 12-13.  I learned a ton and grew a lot as a person during that phase of my life and though it was really stressful, I wouldn't trade it for the world.  During that year and a half I lived in China, I was wholly dedicated to my work and because I had little time for play, I was able to save up a lot of money.  

I eventually came back to the states in early 2013 and I worked as a designer/developer for a couple different products.  I enjoyed the work, but it didn't have the same element of responsibility and learning that I had grown accustomed to in China.  I realized that I was at a point within my career where I could either buckle down again and do my best to climb through the ranks, or I could take some time off and go on an adventure for a while.  During my time in China, I had become fascinated with sailing and I decided that's what I wanted to do.  I started some intensive planning and, in October, I gave BD my two and a half months notice.  

I decided to time my departure such that I wouldn't be leaving at a bad time for BD and they would have plenty of time to find a replacement for me.  BD has taught me a tremendous amount over the course of the past five years and I'm really grateful for that.  I'm planning to come back to BD at the end of this adventure (if I don't wreck my boat on some desert island) and I hope that there is a position available for me at that point.  I'll certainly miss this place.  

The time has come for a new era in my life. I’m leaving Black Diamond at the end of the year and I’m planning to buy an old sailboat, fix it up, and point it south. The last four years in Salt Lake have been some of the best of my life, and I'm going to miss my friends and colleagues more than words can express. Thanks for the fun times.

You're all invited to come ski pow with me in Chile.