Eric Soares – husband, father, brother, son, and good friend to so many people – passed away on February 1, 2012, of a sudden cardiac event at Stanford Hospital while awaiting surgery to repair an aortic aneurysm.
Eric was a great individual. His strong personality and his desire to live life to the fullest left a major impact on thousands of people, from his family members to his friends to the myriad college students who took his classes at CSU East Bay.
Eric was truly loved and admired – and he is truly missed.
Eric’s Early Years
Eric grew up in a rural area just outside Anderson, California. His love for outdoor adventure began there as he explored the nearby hills and waterways with his younger brother Marc. He had leading roles in several plays at Anderson High School and was a member of the swim team. He also really enjoyed playing sandlot football.
Eric’s Education
After a three-year stint in the Navy, Eric earned an A.A. degree from Shasta College. He then attended Sacramento State University, where he earned a B.A. and an M.A. in Communications. He completed his Ph.D. in Communications at Bowling Green State University in Ohio.
Eric’s Teaching Career
Eric had a highly successful 25-year career teaching business communication and marketing at California State University, East Bay, where he won awards for his outstanding teaching. He retired in 2008 and was soon honored as a professor emeritus.
Eric’s Family
Eric was well loved by his family members: mother Mozelle, sister Camille, brothers Marc and John, daughter Micaila, granddaughter Paisley, son-in-law Zoey, son Alex, stepson Nick, sister-in-law Patty, John’s life-partner Stephanie, nieces Dionne, Kirby, and Kasey, nephew Jake, and numerous cousins, aunts, and uncles.
Eric married his beloved wife Nancy in 1996. They created a life of adventure and exploration from their home in El Granada, California before moving north to settle in Ashland, Oregon in 2008. They studied martial arts together and they hiked, traveled, and explored the western United States, Hawaii, and the nearby Pacific Ocean.
Eric and the Martial Arts
Eric’s interest in the martial arts began when he was in his early 20s. He first earned a brown belt in Judo, and then later studied kung fu for two years. After meeting and marrying Nancy, he took up her martial art: Dan Zan Ryu jujitsu. They went to the dojo together, trained together, and spent hundreds of hours discussing and analyzing specific techniques and martial arts philosophy. Eric and Nancy began their jujitsu study at the KoDenKan Institute in the Bay Area and then expanded their studies by studying Ten Chi Do with Sifu Hung Lee. Once they moved to Ashland, they were warmly welcomed at the Medford Judo Academy, where they continued their jujitsu journey under the guidance of Professor Larry Nolte. Both Eric and Nancy hold second-degree black belts in jujitsu.
Eric as Sea Kayaker Extraordinaire
Eric formed the world-famous Tsunami Rangers sea-kayaking adventure group with his best friend Jim Kakuk in 1985. The group soon expanded to include other serious kayakers. The Tsunami Rangers delight in high-adrenaline activities like surfing big waves and exploring rock gardens and sea caves.
In large part due to Eric’s marketing and PR efforts, the Tsunami Rangers were featured on National Geographic Explorer, Outdoor Life Network, MTV, and the Discovery Channel. Eric also taught kayaking workshops and gave talks on kayaking to groups around the country and around the world, including Canada and New Zealand. He was well-known for his dynamic and entertaining speaking style, and for his ability to spout spontaneous jokes, many at his own expense. Most recently he taught “How to Paddle the Open Coast” at MacKerricher Park near Fort Bragg last August.
In addition to writing dozens of articles for sea kayaking magazines, Eric is the author of Confessions of a Wave Warrior and co-author of Extreme Sea Kayaking with fellow ranger Michael Powers . He also helped make several Tsunami Rangers DVDs, including Kayaking Ocean Rock Gardens and The Tsunami Rangers’ Greatest Hits.
On Eric and Life…
Eric only lived 58 and a half years, but he lived more in his too-short life than most ordinary people would live in five lifetimes.
Eric’s body is gone, but his spirit, his teachings, and his infectious joy live on in all of us who were lucky enough to know him.
If you like, you can make a contribution to the Eric Soares Scholarship Fund.
Please Share Your Thoughts…
Feel free to share anything you’d like about Eric in the comments below. It can be how you felt about Eric, a way Eric touched your life, or a funny or exciting story about Eric.
John, thank you for sharing a wonderful tribute to your brother.
So much to say, and so much has already been noted. I will add to it here. Eric made people around him feel more alive with his infectious joie de vivre. He challenged us to be true to our adventurous human spirits, while also preaching the lessons of teamwork – so critical to success for ocean rock garden paddling, Eric’s true domain.
Although I was invited, I will forever regret missing out on the chance to join one of the infamous Tsunami Ranger retreats to their favorite (and secret) coastal haunts. We had started talking recently about a Molokai trip for the summer of 2013, and I had dreamed of bringing my teenage son along to get some of that precious Tsumani comaraderie. He and Eric were comic book comrades, and shared a love of superheros. Maybe we will see Eric again on the ocean one day, joyfully exploring a new sea cave, or building a camouflaged driftwood campsite on a remote, wave-lashed coast.
Eric was such a unique human being in many ways. Teacher, poet, prophet, trickster – take your pick. He left us so many gifts, and he showed us an honorable way to live our lives. His passing is another Tsunami Ranger challenge for his many friends left behind, yet he prepared us well for “The Quest”. Thanks for sharing your great life with us Commander Soares. You were loved, and will be missed.
LONG LIVE THE TSUNAMI RANGERS!!!
There is not enough space to include Eric’s impact on the world. His family, his students, the sea kayaking community has been positively affected by Eric. If you measure a life by how you affect other people, Eric’s life was a monumental success.
During my long trips when I was away from any form of outside communication, I often wondered if my friends and family were doing OK. I realized at any moment I could lose one of them and not know it. In my mind they were alive and doing well. I thought it was possible to come back from a trip and find out that I lost someone close to me and that I even missed the funeral. Yet in my mind they would still be alive. Those thoughts made me realize that our family and friends are always alive and with us as long as we remember them and think of them.
Given Eric’s energy and his effect on his world I believe Eric will be around us in our thoughts and our hearts as long as we are here.
Remember, Eric is only a thought away from us.
Eric, thank you for enriching our lives. We will never forget.
Wayne & Hadley
I am close friends with Eric’s niece Dionne, so growing up I had many an opportunity to spend time with Eric both at his house and when he visited Redding. What I remember is a bright, infectious, silly, smart man who was quick to tease but even quicker to teach us lessons (whether about the ocean or how to iron your pants while you were wearing them). I only saw him maybe once every few years but man oh man did I have a blast when I did. My thoughts go out to his family during this hard time. Eric will be remembered and loved always not just by his family but by the many others he touched.
Reading these comments are so uplifting, and it helps all of us who are grieving Eric in our healing process. I was just listening to some Charles Mingus, noting that it was mentor brother Eric who enthusiastically introduced me to this jazz genius. Eric introduced me to a lot of art and adventure, and always had the right thing to say when I consulted him. What an honor it is for me to call him my older brother.
Hi Marc,
I don’t know if you remember me or not, BUT I remember you and your brother Eric. I was shocked and saddened to hear about your loss…..
I have very fond memories of you two, as we all 3 attended Anderson High School. What can I say ???? Eric well was Eric at all times, he was sooooo funny and talented. The drama group (plays), the fun, and laughter !! Watching you two on stage singing… I always wondered what happened to the both of you as we moved on through our lives..Rest assured that Eric is still having fun, I’m sure somewhere in his element.
May God give you and your family comfort, and peace.
Take Care !
All of this is well-said of an incandescent presence. I will only add one memory: watching Eric haul his kayak up the beach, burning with enthusiasm and cackling with glee, after completing the Tsunami race at Miramar… and paddling with the same verve and enthusiasm after his heart surgery as he did before it. That image of fearlessness and optimism and refusal to back down or off will be a candle lit to the durability of the human spirit, a light that for me will never burn out or fade. And somewhere, I just know this, Eric is charging something again.
Everyday I think about Eric’s laugh, bright eyes, strong voice, and kindness. My eyes get teary and I miss him. Then, I smile because I remember what an awesome dude he is and how he was such a loving being who positively influenced hundreds, if not thousands, of people to pursue their bliss. RIP dear Eric!
What a beautiful and touching tribute. Eric sounds like he was a hell of a person who lived a full and wonderful life, and I’m truly sorry I ne’er had the chance to meet him. Love and peace to e’eryone who knew and loved Eric; I hope you can find solace in the fond memories you have of him…
Here are 2 poems that have brought me a great deal of solace in the past 2 weeks. Eric had a very romantic outlook on life and he loved poetry:
It Is Not Growing Like a Tree by Ben Jonson (1573 – 1637)
It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make Man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere:
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May
Although it fall and die that night –
It was the plant and flower of Light.
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures life may perfect be.
This next poem appeared in our lives when we first met. I read it every morning:
I Think Continually of Those Who Were Truly Great by Stephen Spender
I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul’s history
Through corridors of light where the hours are suns,
Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition
Was that their lips, still touched with fire,
Should tell of the spirit clothed from head to foot in song.
And who hoarded from the spring branches
The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.
What is precious is never to forget
The delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth;
Never to deny its pleasure in the simple morning light,
Nor its grave evening demand for love;
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.
Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields
See how those names are feted by the waving grass,
And by the streamers of white cloud,
And whispers of wind in the listening sky;
The names of those who fought for life,
Who wore at their heart the fire’s centre.
Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,
And left the vivid air signed with their honour.
These are beautiful and touching poems Nancy. They brought tears to my eyes when I read them last week at your place.
My husband Tony and I knew Eric for just a little bit of time, through our friend, his wife, Nancy. Eric left an imprint in our lives as the great lover of Life, was a good friend and inspiring teacher/adventurer to so many…he was fearless and the most passionate who made my friend Nancy the happiest! Here’s a poem I’ve read to celebrate Eric…he lived a beautiful legendary Life!
Something Beautiful Remains – Unknown
The tide recedes but leaves behind
bright seashells on the sand.
The sun goes down, but gentle
warmth still lingers on the land.
The music stops, and yet it echoes
on in sweet refrains…..
For every joy that passes,
something beautiful remains.
Thank you for sharing these poems, Nancy. They reflect Eric’s gallant spirit so excellently.
Eric was one of my best friends and I’ll treasure my memories of all the great times we had on numerous adventures, mostly kayaking adventures, but also on the road to and from the ‘put in,’ and just generally hanging out.
Eric had a brilliant mind and we spent a lot of hours discussing everything under the sun. And yeah Mark, Eric was one of the few people I knew who’d listen to Charles Mingus’s music with me! He was interested in everything and his enthusiasm was contagious.
We worked on several kayak projects together, especially the ocean rock gardens instructional video, and it was always a pleasure because it was fun to work with Eric. His sense of humor was always there.
No question Eric made the most of his 58 years and I know for a fact his later years with Nancy were among his happiest. That is certainly something to celebrate.
A truly wonderful man who shared himself and his experiences so willingly with others. I will truly miss our email exchanges, his rock gardening advice, his telling me off for being reckless, and general his enthusiasm for giving things a go. I may have only known him for this past year, but I still feel truly blessed.
A most touching tribute, John…..I feel a kindred soul in there…hope you’re doing OK.
Thank you, John, for creating this beautiful site.
The first gift Eric gave me was the status of Auntie… an enormous boon for an 11-year-old girl. “My nephew, Eric,” was a phrase I then tossed out often (with little regard for its suitability to whatever discussion was at hand). This pride in the simple fact of Eric’s existence blossomed over the years into amazement and wonder. Even as a toddler he was a riveting character, offering me a rock or a toy while searching my face for reaction, as though he were analyzing a variety of effective levels of gift-giving.
But his greatest gift to me has been laughter. Eric would say something to make me laugh, then laugh at the fact that he’d made me laugh, then top whatever he’d said with another laugh line, then both of us would laugh maniacally, and whoever was near would be laughing, too. Laughter engulfed everyone wherever Eric presided. Anybody can “preside” if given a title or a lectern or a gavel, but someone who can preside based only on his essential connection to the human laugh is a rare, precious person.
For his mother (my sister), Mozelle, and for all the Big Family and Great Friends, may the laughter of rare, precious Eric always resound.
A thousand funny stories flood my mind when I think about Uncle Eric or “Uncle Airhead” as I affectionately referred to him. I can’t pick just one to say so I’ll just leave it at this:
Eric was by far one of the funniest men I’ve ever known, and he influenced me in more ways than I could ever express. His joy in life, music and water were extremely wonderous to me in my very early years and even more to me now as an adult. The times we spent together at Sims campground, verious family homes, and his and Nancy’s home either in Half Moon Bay or in Ashland were among the best memories I have.
I am forever grateful for the experiences we have had together, and Eric, my friend and amazing Uncle lives on in my heart. Someday we will meet again, and I’ll get to enjoy even more stories of his incredible life and times. I love you Uncle Eric!!!
Eric was such a rock star to us as young sea kayakers. I remember buying a used x-1 Rocket from him in 1988. He made sure we would study safety procedures before we went into rock gardens then invited us to play hacky-sack, Cool Guy.
My husband Raphael and I were Saturday paddlers who cheered on shore during the Sea Gypsy Races.
At the post-race potluck in 2005, the audience and racers stood around Eric on the wooden deck behind Michael Powers’ house and listened while Eric explained why that Sea Gypsy Race had been the final one. Everyone was stunned and saddened that this bold tradition was over.
I remember his face so clearly. We didn’t know it at the time, but that moment marked the beginning of the end of our time in Northern California. For me, Eric’s face will always be associated with a major change in our lives.
Rainer, if you read this, thanks for bringing us to the race that first time.
I contacted Eric by phone in 2004 after a hairy landing with three friends through ten foot surf off Martha’s Vineyard. His calm, practical advice and soothing tone helped me cope with the troubling mental re-plays of our adventure. He suggested resources so I could go out and face the ocean again. I devoured every word of Extreme Sea Kayaking, and played the video “Kayaking Ocean Rock Gardens” over and over again. He also recommended John Lull’s book, which has Eric’s same spirit of exploration and adventure. To his kayaking buddies: please keep reaching out to coach younger kayakers – by blog, book, or phone. Eric’s voice will always be with me when I paddle ocean swell!
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
Khalil Gibran
My husband Paul and I really did not know the Tsunami Ranger Eric. We only knew of the Tsunami Ranger Eric. (Although we have watched our copy of the Tsunami Rangers CD that we have a couple of times lately…you are all crazy!!) Our relationship with Eric and Nancy really began post-heart issues and especially when they moved to S. Oregon. We are also Coastsiders who moved to Oregon and Nancy and I reconnected when she first came to Ashland to take care of her parents.
We knew the Eric who loved talking about learning to play golf. We knew the Eric who was fiercely competitive when we played bocce. We knew the Eric who went from cutting through waves to cutting up branches on his property. We knew the Eric who loved his wife so very much and joyously spent the last couple of years traveling and spending time with her and their families. We knew the Eric who savored a good glass of wine (or two) when we had dinner together.
Eric was smart, (brilliant, really) funny, always smiley and we will miss our times together. A long life does not make a full life. Eric’s life was so full its hard to think he could have fit another thing in. RIP my friend…you were something else.
John, my deepest condolences to you and your family. What a great tribute to a super human being.
John, you introduced me to your brother and his kayaking awhile ago with one of your posts. I’m so sorry for your loss and for your family’s loss. Kayakers everwhere, of which I’m one in a small way, will also miss him. Thanks so much for sharing him with us.
What a beautiful tribute, John. Thank you for sharing the beauty and love that was your brother’s life. May you and your family be embraced in the warmth of your memories and the love you shared with Eric.
My thoughts & prayers are with you and your family, John.
What a joy to read everyone’s comments and to hear about the positive impact Uncle Eric had on us all. What I always found so inspiring about him was his sheer ambition, utter fearlessness and love of adventure. I feel very fortunate to have had such a jubilant and charismatic presence in my life. If ever I feel unworthy, afraid or unsure, I will think of Eric and be reminded that anything is possible.
If the world were full of Eric Soares, then it truly would be a perfect world. I glad I was Lucky enough to know you. Farewell Friend. Reagan
all mankind is of one author, and is one volume
when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of
the book, but translated into a better language
any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind.
I’ll think of him many times in my life as I do with any person
who leaves some of thier spirit with me.
He was a good man.
my condolences Nancy and always keep your heart open!
When I interviewed for a faculty position at California State University, Hayward, California was recovering from the dot-com bust. Eric told me that he was optimistic because he believed in the “great state of california” and I knew he was not referring to the political system. I took him at his word and joined the “great state of california.” It is a fabulous, rich way to experience life.
The past year has been, without question, the most difficult of my entire life, and Eric was there for me the entire time like the Rock of Gibralter. Always empathetic, supportive and positive, he was, on many occasions, my life raft. I have no idea how he managed to find the time to be there for me, but find it he did. He was an amazing, wonderful, and irreplaceable man who, simply by living his own life on his own terms, inspired so many others, like myself, to do a better job of living theirs. He was one of the very best friends I been fortunate enough to have in 63 years on the planet.
He was so humble when he was around our dojo I didn’t even know what he had acomplished. He never mentioned being on MTV, getting his PHD, or any of those things. He always knew how to put things that made sense to me. He helped me get to where I am today in Jujitsu. He also hepled teach me the true meaning of martial arts. He was so humble and such a great man. He will never be forgotten.
Eric
I would normally be writing to you to tell you about my latest adventure or family milestone. I’d share the joy of discovering a sea cave on an expedition or the hits and misses of a surf session – and there were many he he.
I could share these things with you knowing that you genuinely liked to hear the story and knowing you would consider my words and respond with wisdom, humour or a kick up the arse as required.
I remember that surf session where I got hammered and after a lot of fumbling about I was rescued by the on duty life saver. I was embarrassed to tell you about it, but trusted you to give me thoughtful, detailed advice. You did finishing with the words “Everyone gets wiped out in surf; there’s no shame”.
You were a wave warrior and hero yet you were a man not afraid to show how much you loved the people close to you. I looked forward to visiting with you and Nancy, to finally meet in person, but that is not to be. I cannot imagine the heartache Nancy, the rest of your family and your TR brothers are feeling.
Eric, you had a rare gift to see the value in people, wherever they were in their lives – and communicate with them on an intimate level, making them feel that value. You did that with me, from across the globe. Thank you.
On Sunday I went for a little kayak surf, sad knowing that I would never again be able to return home and regale you with stories. Instead I spoke to you in my heart while I was surfing. You already know, it was a good day.
So friend thanks for everything. I miss you. It seems appropriate to sign off as you often did.
Ta ta for now e,
Tess
I have trouble being able to express my feelings about Commander Eric Soares, Don Diego Cien Fuegos.
So much love, so much joy, so full of life, so much laughter, so loco, so brave, such a seeker, so hard to begin to put into words this wonderful and amazing spirit who blessed all of our lives in so many, many different and amazing ways. It will take me a long time to come to terms with his moving on to join Misha and other sacred souls.
I am so grateful to know him and Nancy, all the rangers, kayakers, students and people around the world who loved this fearless spirit.
My only daily solace at the moment is that every time I look at the waves I see him in every curve, every break and the mist that float into the heavens.
Don Diego we will honor with ever moment are alive, We love you and thank you for being you!
I knew Eric on and off for 20 years. He used some of my guitar music in a few of his kayak videos. In my life he was a particular wild man. We used to go
and play hackeysack up on the bluff near his house in Montara. I will miss his “being” in the world greatly. He wrote me this below, a short time before he died, about one particular hack session together, and in answer to my question:
Do you experience your heart with people in the world differently than before it all occurred?
Alan:
Yes, that hack rally was the best 2-man laugh session I’ve ever had in my life–also the best hack I’ve ever had. Thank you, my friend.
Yes, I do experience people differently with my “new and improved ” Iron Man heart. Conversely, I feel more compassion for everyone than I ever have, and I also experience a Taoist “shit happens, so get over it & blend in” attitude. Weird.
Keep the music happening!
eric
Eric The Red
I was really shocked to learn that you are gone to the greater beyond. I’m sure that you must have been aware of my “tsunami” adventure in Nigeria. Trust me, my Nigerian adventure rivals whatever you had done in those caves where no man had visited before.
When I first landed on the CSUEB campus, it was then the Hayward campus, you were one of a few people I could call a true friend and colleague. You were my mentor in whom I had absolute confidence. You taught me all I know about teaching. Because of the confidence I had in you, I did not hesitate requesting that you mentor my spouse, Stevina Evuleocha, Ph.D.; and you did! Thanks buddy for taking on both of us inspite of your very busy schedule.
Eric, you were one of a kind, always looking for ways to lighten moods in very tense environments. You’ve always inspired us with your simplicity. I found in you a very refreshing individual. Some who do not know you may not be aware that, as simple as you were, you were also quite firm in your convictions.
Your sense of humor impressed me the most. I remember when you and I stepped onto the Agora stage on campus during a Cinco de Mayo celebration and did our break dance routine, in suits, to the amazement of spectators.
I remember visiting with you, Nancy, and Nick at Halfmoon Bay. You were quick to tell us not to panic if we saw snakes in your yard! And, indeed, we saw some snakes! Eric, you should never had told us about those garden snakes. Coming from Africa, we are not exactly buddy buddy with them creepy creatures. Inspite of our morbid fear of snakes, you made us feel at home, and we had a lovely time with your family.
Eric the Red, you know I will miss you. You know that I will miss Super Bowl Sunday with you. Starting from our days as neighbours on the beachfront properties in Alameda, in fact, you made me move to Alameda, where we would congregate at your residence for Super Bowl, we maintained that ritual for over 15 years. We always looked forward to spending that occasion with you. We tried to spruce this up with some authentic Nigerian cuisine. I know the daredevil in you enjoyed Stevina’s cooking so much.
Eric, go well. You have left us with fond memories we will cherish forever. Wherever you are, please use your Tsunami Rangers skills to scout the place out for us. Find us nice spots for we will all be joining you someday.
Eric, the good Lord will grant you all the mercies that you deserve. Farewell worthy Tsunami Ranger, mentor, colleague, and friend. We will miss you!
There were 12 of us cousins on the Fitzhugh side of the family–our moms’ side. Eric was the firstborn cousin: the dynamic and elusive eldest of the Soares boys. As I grew up with a sister, I found these boys to be fascinating in their intensity and wildness, and it hardly seemed possible we could be related. We seldom visited (we were SoCal, they were NoCal), but when we did, they rarely slowed down long enough to even toss off a “hey.” Taking meals like men on the run, their bikes like horses at the fence, it seemed these boys could not be contained by things like houses and yards. They needed adventure beyond the horizon.
Some years later Eric and Marc came down and stayed with us for a while. To me, it was like having exotic cats prowling around our Hollywood bungalow. They were on a mission to see the ocean–not a feature of the countryside they grew up in–and my mother told me later that the boys were absolutely ecstatic being head-on to this powerful element; in retrospect, probably especially Eric.
The next time I saw Eric was at a family reunion. He had a VHS tape and co-opted the TV in the motel lounge to play it for us. He basically went up to the clerk and with that grin of his said something like, “Hey, I’m going to use the TV now, OK? OK! Great! Thanks!” before the guy could even open his mouth. Then with the same persuasive power, he had all of us relatives gather ’round to watch a National Geographic feature on the Tsunami Rangers. He sat in a huddle right in front of the screen, his eyes wide open as he narrated right over the narration, catching us up in his own excitement. Because even if you don’t love sea kayaking, you obviously love Eric, and what Eric loves, you love.
The last time I saw Eric was at the last family reunion, in 2007. I made a point of hanging around to talk with him. I wanted to get over fascination and into admiration, at least, to shed childhood impressions and get to know the person. As things turned out, I was inordinately fortunate. Partly due to my direct request (I hoped and figured that with a guy like Eric, better to come straight out with it), and greatly due to his and Nancy’s courtesy and hospitality, my daughter Maddie and I were able to stay with them, ostensibly to explore San Francisco.
By the end of our stay with them, it had very little to do with San Francisco, and everything to do with being with this cousin of mine, who had always been beyond my grasp somehow. There was real joy in their home. Like many people who live life intensely, using their bodies and senses fully to find pleasure in every activity, in their downtime they were mellow as a couple of cats. When we visited, he and Nancy were on a Netflix kick of “Perry Mason,” and not for the camp value, either: for the moral courage and integrity of Mason. A solid couple, surprisingly old-fashioned, and steady as the rocks in his garden.
The distinct picture memory I will carry of Eric, like a photo in my brag book, is of him laid back like a suburban dad in his recliner, watching TV, covered with an afghan, and the huge neighbor cat who adored him sacked out across his legs. This is “my” Eric, if you will: I didn’t know him as a Ranger, but I tracked him back to his lair and got to know him as the man of the house. Droll and deep, edgy and sweet. And for this I will always be grateful.
Thanks for this remarkable post Shannon. Really brought back all of the
elements of Eric in one picture. What a fellow.
thanks, Alan Tower
Eric was an amazing person and words can not describe how much I miss him. His spirit was vibrant and alive even when he was hundreds/thousands of miles away. He can light up a room with that goofy smile and I enjoyed some great years with him as my kata partner, workout buddy, a mentor and as a dear friend. Eric has left his positive mark on so many people especially me. I wish him a great time kayaking up in heaven or being reincarnated into another amazing soul.
My deepest condolences and love to you Nancy. You and Eric were a perfect couple: so silly, so strong, so meant to be together.
Eric Soares
The Commander,
It has been difficult imagining a world with out Eric and what the future will be for his family, friends and the kayaking community. His death is intangible, there are no words to express the loss except that a big part of our life has passed on. Reading the comments that people have posted it is clear that he touched many.
Eric was a measure of what I want to be as a person and our friendship was steeped in water, he was brave and had the courage to overcome fear. He called his kayak Antares, a red super giant star in the Milky Way galaxy and he was a giant among men.
Go on quests, get lost, have those adventures and have fun. Life is about making something happen not waiting for something to happen. Eric, you will be missed for as long as this life goes on.
friend and comrade,
Jim Kakuk
@Shannon, thanks for such a beautiful tribute. I am so glad I got a chance to meet you and so glad you came to stay with us. I love the picture you paint of Eric and me at home. One more beautiful memory come back to me. You got it exactly right. I am much comforted. Jim, beloved friend, we have many more adventures to come.
I met Eric or Erica as I sometimes called him in 1996. I always thought of him as a brother from another mother. I love him as a Brother as he did I. This helped me see him in the hospital the day he went for the very first time regarding his Heart. The nurses really thought I was his brother.
He started studying DZR Jujitsu with Prof. James Musselman exactly 1 year to the day after I did. He was an active Prof. Musselman student for 11 years which we all equate to dog years, so thet ment Eric had at that time been studying for actually 77 years. It showed through his internal Energy. We shared many excellent loving moments including testing for our shodan black-belt as partners on a weekend day at the dojo in 2000. We both passed and were promoted that December. Eric’s wife Nancy became our sponsor and Sensei. We shared contests, open houses, seminars and conventions together. We helped move the Dojo 3 times as he was a devoted Jujitsuka and probably still is were he is at.
I was very upset and sad when I got the news. I have since decided as we should to celebrate E (as I also called him) and his vast energy that still exisists in all of us who he knew, loved and touched.
Eric was a very intellegent person who allowed me to teach a sales class during his tenure at Hayward and he didn’t give me a hard time about my spellig flaws, he knew what I ment. One of his passions was food. It didn’t matter if it was yours or his he liked to eat and did. Mesa Luna is a fond memory for me. Chile Verde even after the first operation, after a walk also a fond memory, many good times.
He would want as most of us would, remember the good and respect who he was do not morn for long, celebrate that you met him.
Love, your Jujitsuka brother. Jeff Hansen
I just heard about Eric’s passing from your mom. I used to date Richard Berta
and have spent much time and phone calls with your mom whom I love. What I think of first when I envision Eric is his ingaging smile, his lust for life and his genuine love and interest in his family as well as those he came in contact with as friends. I know he will be terribly missed and my heart goes out to Nancy as well as his family.
Eric represented the epitome of how life should be lived. He was not only a daring and brave individual but, a brilliant, kind, giving and loving soul. Nancy, how lucky he was to have met you. You that could keep up with him in his many, many adventures.
I feel so lucky to have known Eric and been touched by his family.
Thank you John for the wonderful tribute.
Diane Wurzel
Eric, was a good friend of mine. Starting at Anderson High School, we would talk, hike and party, did we party.!. Over the years we both went over and through alot of changes. Eric and I would talk of life, work, politics, philosophy and women as we
Portuguese are fond of doing. Erics’ energy would take everything to a higher level. Sometimes I could not or would not keep up, still his smile would make me smile. I miss Eric and always will, still I think of him and smile.
Love and Peace, Rick Ramos
I don’t know what to say !!!!???? Most of you don’t know me, but Eric was my first friend. We were 5. After highschool we drifted apart. 2 months ago we got back together…on the phone. I could tell just by talking to him that he hadn’t changed much. I was laughing minutes after hearing his voice. We were going to get together this Spring to laugh and joke about the last 40 years. The world lost a great man!!! Nancy,Mozelle, my mother and I send our condolences to you and your families. For everyone that knew Eric,…Heaven will never be the same. I miss my first friend.
Terry, I just want to say that you will live on in Eric’s book “Confessions of a Wave Warrior”! Such is the way of our mutual friend Eric that he wrote about you and the amazing adventures you both had as kids, and then you guys connected again across the years. I think a lot of us were feeling some of that as Eric was bringing pieces of his life together in recent years. Anyway, the stories about you in Eric’s book are priceless, man! I just read the one about the go-cart AGAIN to some of my kids’ friends and they were totally blown away, just bawling with laughter. I’m smiling big time just thinking about it.
Be well amigo, and bless us all for beging able to call Eric Soares a good friend.
Ken, We were all lucky to know Eric. I’m glad our stories of adventure live on! . Eric was going to write another book. He was going to add a few other stories of our young adventures, but I guess we will all have to wait awhile longer to read that one. Thanks for your reply. It helps me deal with these raw feelings.
Eric was this little freshman,going out for high school swim team,coming up to me, the older, big, captain of the swim team. He walked up to me and, somehow, became my friend for life in under two minutes! You who have known him know what that ” somehow ” was. That’s the very short version. My heart is with his family- I love you all- Mike Warren Bend, OR
Beautiful and touching tribute to one of the legends in the kayaking community. It is truly a great loss. It would be best to imagine Eric now paddling on the high heavens and still do what he loves best right? Must be an awesome sight to see!
Nice job John,
To you, Marc, Nancy, & other family members…Eric led a full life respecting some of nature’s beautiful environments. His physical life cut short, but his spirit is among the coastal waves, eddies, and rocks,..and in the woodlands…where we all share good times on the planet.
Marc and Family,
I am so sorry for your loss, please know you are in my thoughts.
Eric gone… what a loss! But then again, what a life! Eric squeezed every bit of juice out of life, mixed it with his secret ingredients and shared the intoxicating results with any and all!
From the mid 80s into the 90s I had the extreme pleasure, along with my fellow Banzai Bozos, of paddling with, competing against Cmdr Eric, Jim, Glen, Dave, Haru (oh God, how could I ever forget Haru!) up and down the west coast. Scrapes, scares, thrills, bruises, busted boats, water up the nose and laughing, there was always lots of laughing.
Eric manifested the philosophy that “it’s never too late to have a happy childhood”… marvelously.
Best wishes to Eric’s family and friends… how lucky to have shared your lives with Eric.
It is 1970, first day of school at Anderson High. A “brown-haired, green-eyed Aries chick” enters Speech class as a Freshman. She takes her seat and looks around as students of various years enter. She knows none of them. She is nervous. She feels like a fish out of water. Her mind drifts to her big brother somewhere at sea with the Coast Guard. The Vietnam War is winding down, but not in time for her brother to miss the draft. She misses him terribly. On top of that her parents are heading for divorce. Her world is shattering and now she’s stuck in a class apparently none of her friends signed up for. She regrets taking this class.
Two upper classmen suanter into the room. One very handsome, the other rather different looking with two large front teeth, one eye a different color than the other, a mischievous grin and an impish glint in those different-colored eyes. The girl feels drawn to that grin, that glint, and that spirit of fun like a dehydrated person to water. She cannot help but smile back. Both boys zero in on the girl, sliding their desks as close as they can get on either side of hers. They begin talking and joking with her. The girl is elated that she signed up for this class.
While the girl came to know Marc better than Eric, the woman she grew into occasionally reflects back on that class and both Soares brothers and has sometimes wondered about where they were and what became of them. Thinking of both of them never fails to make her smile……..
I am so very sad to hear of Eric’s death, but inspired by reading of the life he went on to live and about the man he became. As I read about Eric’s life on this wonderful page his brother John created — this place where we can all share our individual “Eric” moments with one another — I remember Eric’s grin, his laugh, his love for his siblings and how valued and accepted he and Marc made me feel those days in Mr. Mowery’s Speech class. When I was with them, my troubles melted away. They made high school a fun, emotionally safe place to be during a time in life that could feel pretty tumultuous and scary. Thank you Eric and Marc for the gifts of self-confidence and laughter you gave me back in 1970.
Della (Reed) Clavere, (or, as long ago dubbed by Marc: the “brown-haired, green-eyed Aries chick”)
Sadly I can’t claim to know Eric. So it is with some hesitation that I add this comment amongst the memories of his nearest and dearest.
What I do know of Eric has been via this website and the articles he has posted. I just wanted to say that through this site, I suspect there are probably many many many people like me, who never contacted Eric, but when ever they received that RSS Notification that a new item had posted would think “Yeah !!!”. Stop whatever “important” work task they were doing and open that site and devour every word.
I loved every word he wrote and learnt so much common sense stuff that always just pops back into my head when kayaking. Especially if launching into surf (which I’m particularly crap at).
I’ll miss him and I didn’t even know him…. Wish I did though.
I love reading the comments about Eric. It brings him back to me so strongly in so many ways. @Rhys, thanks for writing. It’s good to know Eric touched so many people everywhere – he will live on in them whether he actually met them in person or not. I would like to let everyone who was/is a fan of Eric’s blog that the Tsunami Rangers and I have teamed up to keep the blog going. Eric wanted the blog to keep going after he died and Eric’s brother John is going to teach me to work the website. Together we will keep his dream alive. We’re not sure if we can do a weekly post, at least at first, but we should be able to come up with one at least bi-weekly. The new post should debut on April 2.
Nancy, I’m glad to hear you’ll be keeping the blog going, yay!
My fondest memory of Eric was on a beach just north of Trilogy Beach (TR’s name for it). I was a Ranger “cadet” because my significant other (at the time) John Dixon became a Ranger while we were together. So I got to paddle with those guys quite a bit. This was one of the Ranger retreats, and it was near sunset and we were playing on the beach. Running around like kids. Suddenly Eric and Jim and I were doing a maniacal dance, with cat-like crouching and darting and interweaving around each other. Jumping and landing low in the sand, running at each other. It only went on for a few minutes, but the wildness it elicited remains alive in me to this day. It showed me something about immediacy and power and flow. It was that fire that Eric was able to fan in himself and others that was so much fun and so inspiring. He–and all the Rangers–were wild and free and that’s what I loved the best about him.
We all love you Eric, and look forward to more adventures with you, in the next plane.
Laura
Eric has lived a full life, one of adventure and definitely of love. He is truly a loss, can’t claim to know him personally but it’s the things like this makes us value life more isn’t it?
Wow, I can’t believe Professor Soares is gone! Both my husband and I took a marketing class with him (separately) in the early 1990’s at CSUH. He was our favorite professor at the school. His class was never boring. When our school made it to the semi-finals in the Master Card marketing campaign competition, P. Soares spent a lot of time with us. He invited us to his house to work on the campaign together. He bought us all burritos as a reward for driving out to Half-Moon Bay. We flew on Southwest to New Orleans for the competition. We didn’t know that SW didn’t serve meals on board. We were all starving by the time we arrived in New Orleans. After the competition, we celebrated on Bourbon Street (dinner out). He and I weren’t drinkers in the group, so we walked back to the hotel while the rest of the group went bar hopping after dinner. I’m so sorry for your loss. He was a wonderful, generous and caring man.
I hope there is a wild blue yonder on the other side and that for Eric it is truly wild, blue, deep, and wet – and that any vastness there crashes against an equally wild shoreline somewhere, where benefits might still accrue from wearing a little bit of upper body armor. Eric influenced my life in ways I’m still comprehending: he abetted a developing, wilder style of coastal kayak-play early on in the 80’s as I transitioned to dynamic ocean water from river but, he also communicated to my then young heart and mind the whole notion to “grok” the coastal experience, if not of the whole of life itself – just to take it all in as one passes through, to inhale deeply the whole experience, the mystery of it all, the surrealism found in say, an energetic surf zone; the simplicity of fun itself to be had any time, any place where there was a freedom to be enjoyed and even relished; that there was safety to be taken seriously in all this with a responsibility that comes when pursuing risk; and that there is an essential individualism allowed, even encouraged amongst sea paddlers both on the water and off. And to never discount camaraderie and team synergies; mostly, as I followed Eric’s life in later years, was the commitment to yourself and those around you to just deliberately keep paddling forward through all the difficulties and problems that sweep through one’s little section of shoreline in this rather short life. As I try to pass some of these notions and realizations on to my own two adventure-loving teenagers, Eric’s legacy and positive influence may ripple outward in ways he perhaps never anticipated…
Beautiful comment, Doug. Thank you.
Nancy,
There are perhaps intangible aspects of love born in meaningful relationships that survive beyond time. Those pictures of you and Eric in Hawaii not so long ago, so romantic together – and so freely shared with blog readers, remind me now of this poem by Robert Frost:
I Could Give All To Time
To Time it never seems that he is brave
To set himself against the peaks of snow
To lay them level with the running wave,
Nor is he overjoyed when they lie low,
But only grave, contemplative and grave.
What now is inland shall be ocean isle,
Then eddies playing round a sunken reef
Like the curl at the corner of a smile;
And I could share Time’s lack of joy or grief
At such a planetary change of style.
I could give all to Time except – except
What I myself have held. But why declare
The things forbidden that while the Customs slept
I have crossed to Safety with? For I am There,
And what I would not part with I have kept.
Oh, Doug, that brought tears to my eyes. You know, I read Robert Frost to Eric in the ICU – he found it very soothing. Frost is one of my favorite poets. The road less travelled… Thank you so much for your lovely comments – connecting with people via the blog has been so healing for me. Along those lines, I hope you’ll enjoy the next post “The Quest for the Magical Healing Pool” scheduled for Monday, April 30. Keep in touch:)
I had Professor Soares as a teacher of mine while in college and made it a point to take him for any class I could after that. He always said that it wouldn’t be the lessons about the subject that we remembered but the stories that he told. I have thought about being in his class at least a few times per year since I graduated in 2006.
He truly cared about the development of his students into fully functioning adults in the real world, not just whether we could pass a class or not. He would speak of his life in order to enhance the lessons we learned and did speak often of the Tsunami Rangers and his martial arts background.
When I heard he had passed away through another alumn, I was shocked and torn. I am really saddened for the loss to the world of such a great man, but am also blessed to have been able to know him and grow because of him. I had always spoke of going back and visiting him before he retired, since I graduated in 2006, but I guess just being able to thank his family for allowing him to impact my life, as he did with so many others, will have to be good enough.
Thank You.
Thank you Maxwell for contributing to Eric’s obit. Eric was proud of himself for many things (rightly so), but one of the things he was proudest of was his work at the university. He loved his students and he wanted them all to succeed, both academically and in the world outside the university. His legacy lives on in people like you whose lives he touched.
Eric,
I am on my back, recovering from major back surgery, in pain and unable to do anything. I just lost my partner for life recently and I am inconsolable. I think of how you lived life and visualized future days of adventure after each of your challenges before you finally passed. I am still in the land of the living and you are not but you are here in the hearts of us ocean warriors who want to return to the sea and your life’s vitality you gave to the world courses through my veins as I think of your life and toward my future…
Doug, it’s a really dark and lonely time for you, no question about it. You’ve been hit by a freight train rather than the usual mini-bus or taxi, but you also have a bunch of mates still hanging on in the land of the living who care about you, admire you, respect you, and wish you a speedy return to the cockpit. If Eric was here, he’d be the first to encourage you and cheer you onward to better times.
Thanks Moulton. Was out watching some friends kayak surf today; life is slowly finding resonance again. Eric’s last words to me were to get help. Being independent, I had a hard time with that, but I am now glad I did follow that advice. We sometimes define ourselves in life by the friends we find and the advice we take from them. I will always be a better man for having known Eric and Nancy too, even from afar. Remember, we always do better leaning into the wave a bit and having buds around for backup.
Doug
今日たまたまYOUTUBEで「Tsunami Rangers: Memorial to Eric Soares」という
Sabirina Brennanさんが投稿したビデオを見つけた。
「まさか！」と思い,「tsunamirangers.com」で確認したら、
「In Honor of Eric Soares, 1953-2012」という記事を見つけた。
「なんてことだ！本当なのか？！」
思い出せば、
僕がカヤックを始めてから、何かの記事で「tsunamirangers」というすごいチームが
アメリカにいることを知った。
是非彼らのことを知りたいと思った自分はFAXと一万円札を「tsunamirangers」に送った。
「VIDEOとカヤックのカタログとメンバーの写真を送ってください！」と
かなり欲張った内容だったと思う。
しばらくして、なかなか返事がないので、
自分は恐る恐る国際TELをかけてみた。
その時TELに出たのがERICさんだった。
「おおHIROSHI！元気かい！FAX見たよ。
VIDEOは送ったのでもうしばらく待っててくれ。
ところで、日本ではすごい地震があったそうだな！そちらは大丈夫かい？」
そう、日本では「神戸大震災」があった年だった。。。
ERICさんは「本当に大丈夫か？」と何度も何度も
自分をまるで古くからの友人のように話してくれたことを思い出す。
英語がうまくしゃべれない自分は
「ありがとう」という気持ちをなかなかうまく伝えられなかったが、
ERICさんの「明るさ」「優しさ」は、顔が見えなくても
話だけで十分に感じとれた。
そんなやりとりが2回程あって、
ある日念願のVIDEOが届いた！
あまりに面白くてすごいVIDEOだったので、
仲間やカヤックSHOPの知り合いにも見せまわったものだ！
それからたぶんERICさんの紹介だったと思うが、
「tsunamirangers」のカヤックを造っていた人で
たぶん「ハセガワ」さん？だったと思うがハワイに移り住んだ方とも
TELで話した事がある。
当時、防弾チョッキに使う「ケブラー」を３層にしてカヤックを造るなんて
誰も考えつかない事だった。
おかげでマニアックな楽しい会話ができたことを思い出す。
ERICさんに送ってもらった「tsunamirangers」の写真と
１９９５．１０．２５の日付の直筆の手紙は今でも額に入れて部屋に飾ってある。
その一説にはこう書かれている、
「Enjoy! We are sure you have the same blood we have.」
日本語が読める方にお願いがある。
僕の言葉を、「tsunamirangers」のキャプテンやメンバー、
それからERICさんの家族に是非伝えてほしい！
「ERICさんの明るい笑顔と優しい言葉は、今でも僕の心の中で生きている！」と。
遠い日本に僕は住んでいるが、
４８歳になった今でも
自分は「tsunamirangers」のスピリットを持ったメンバーの一人だと思っている。
いつの日か「tsunamirangers」のみなさんと
ロケットボートを一緒に漕げる日を夢見ている。
田中 浩 (Hiroshi Tanaka)
〒８０８－０１４３
１２－１ ３ Aobadai wakamatu-ku kitakyusyu-city Fukuoka Japan
Nancy, family, and friends:
I am in complete shock after learning of Eric’s passing. My deepest sympathies. One of my brothers came upon this article as we were planning to drive up through Oregon for a wedding later next year, and I mentioned wanting to stop and see an old friend. My brother asked if Eric had passed away after seeing the title of this article. My heart sank, and I said that he was too young to have died. Little did I know…
He was a truly great human being, professor and friend. I had exchanged several emails with him over the years since you left your Half Moon Bay home, and I had wanted to come to Oregon to visit, but won’t have that chance anymore I suppose. I never got a chance to say goodbye, but here is the best way I know how to at this point…
Dear Professor Soares,
First off, let me apologize for never having coming through and visiting you when I had the chance during your time in Oregon. My brother, Daniel (who you met when we came to visit/walk with you in Half Moon Bay after one of your procedures) and I had talked of taking the trip to come and see you in Oregon, but constantly put it off, and now I regret not going every time I think about it.
I wanted to thank you for being the inspirational teacher you were to me at Cal State Hayward. I truly enjoyed your classes and loved your often side-tracked stories that somehow you managed to wrap back into the lesson of the day.
I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your suggesting for me to attend graduate school, and offering to write my letter of recommendation (as painful as that must have been 😉 I’m sure the bottle of Scotch I gave you to thank you, somehow was able to even out that challenge!). And, of course, the graduate classes that I took with you were always fun and enlightening. From the jujitsu mentions to kayaking stories and from your time on the aircraft carrier to sharing your childhood memories, I remember most of them and really thought how full of life this person really was.
Little did you know: often times, I would take the longer walk back to my car from my classes, and circle by the teacher’s lot to see if your truck was still there or if your office light was still on, and enjoyed stopping in for an evening chat in your office; always pleased to just sit and listen to your take on the world’s affairs.
I was honored, at my 2008 graduation, that you were the one who read my name as I walked across the stage. Your infectious smile pronouncing the complicated fiasco that is my last name and getting it right as you had for the past 6 years. This was the last time I saw you, and had I known it was the last, I would have said farewell and so much more to my friend.
Thank you for being so much more than just a teacher and a class, but a friend and a mentor.
Until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand.
Andrew Rossillon, International Marketing, Wells Fargo Bank
MBA, Class of 2008
Thank you for your comment, Andrew. Eric loved his students, and it’s great to hear from you. Your words mean a lot to me and I’m so happy to hear from another one whose life Eric touched. He was an amazing man and he did so much good for others. His legacy lives on in people like you.
Nancy, I am so sorry about your loss. I graduated back in 1987 and have always thought fondly of Eric. He was one of my all time favorite teachers and I enjoyed his friendship, too. He was a great coach for CAMCO (California Management Competition) which I participated in back in 86-87. I remember how badly he wanted to beat Berkeley (who Hayward had come in second to the year before) and fortunately we did but unfortunately Cal State Fullerton had a killer team that beat us for first place.
On the personal side, we saw Star Trek IV together at the movies. He also introduced me to one of my favorite meals: Rice covered with cheese, broccoli and crab meat.
I was always sorry that we lost touch but I see that he continued to live life to the fullest and I’m glad for your years together and sorry that they ended too soon. Stuart
Thanks for the condolences, Stuart. I love that you saw Star Trek IV together. We watched endless episodes of the original Star Trek, and all the episodes with Picard and Janeway. And of course, all the movies. He loved the newest one with Chris Pine as well.
Ah yes, rice with cheese, broccoli and crab meat. Yum. Broccoli was just about his favorite vegetable next to spinach, which he liked steamed with Bragg’s and rice vingegar as a dressing.
I love hearing from all the people whose lives he touched. It makes me feel that he lives on in all of us. Thanks again.
I am shocked and really bummed, i stumbled on this info on face book
Mark if you get this email please email or call
503-775-6757 this is a portland or ph#
I thought about Eric alot through the years he was the best dam
chess player i have ever known
Bill
Sad to hear that Mr. Soares had passed. I took his Marketing class at CSUH in the mid 90’s. He had a great sense of humor and made learning fun. I really enjoyed his class. Condolences to his family.
Dear Mrs Soares and his family:
I have just heard about this sad event, I am so sorry for your loss… May Professor Soares rest in peace.
I was one of his students at Cal State in 2005-06. My friend Christelle and I were both part of a student exchange program coming from France to Cal State for a year, and one of the classes we took was his. By far, he was the best professor I ever had. We were always looking forward to his classes, he had always managed to make them so interesting and personal and fun… I don’t know if he was just too nice because we were French, or if indeed we were good, but he always gave us As… 🙂
What a truly, truly, inspiring and Good man Professor Soares was… I feel blessed and honored to have known him and been his student, even if it was just for a short while. I will always cherish these moments…
You must be so proud to call him husband, dad, son, brother, nephew, uncle… Proud that he shared your lives, and am sure you miss him terribly, but be sure that he is somewhere having fun in heaven.
May God give all of you the patience and strength to move forward and bless you all. Lots of love.
Thanks for you sweet message. I always love hearing from Eric’s students. He cared greatly about being the best professor he could be and he always put the students’ interests first. He was an excellent teacher, and it was a privilege to have been part of his life.