Lessons from 23 Days at Sea
If you missed last week’s post, I was on a boat. For 23 days. 2,500 miles up the Atlantic coast.
It was either as incredible or as dangerous as you’re imagining.
Now that I’ve had some time to process, there are tons of takeaways. Lessons I learned about myself. Lessons that are applicable to business.
Lessons that I hope will be of benefit to you. Or at the very least, provide some entertaining anecdotes.
Lesson #1: Captain
When I talk about chartering my boat from FL to MA, I should probably mention that the way I did it…really isn’t the way you do it. You don’t just hop in your boat, even with family and friends as crew members, and sail up the Atlantic coast. Especially if you’ve never done it before.
The smart thing to do, and what most people do, is bring a captain on the journey. But did I bring my captain? Reader, I did not. I thought I would save on costs with a DIY approach. Instead, I cost myself far more in repairs, from mistakes that my captain never would have made, than the expense of bringing him in the first place.
It is far more valuable to have the right people on board than to pay for the mistake of learning the hard way.
Lesson #2: Accountability
Accountability is so important for healthy team culture and getting stuff done in the business. But employees at every level often struggle to wrap their heads around what accountability really means. Even in high-pressure roles, they aren’t dealing with high-stakes situations.
They should get out on the water.
I’ve never experienced accountability the way I did during this journey. Accountability is the feeling that you are responsible for the lives—yes, the actual lives—of the people you have on board your boat. People you invited; people you love and whose safety and well-being you value immensely.
Occasionally, one of those people would ask, “Eric, why are you so stressed?” Well, because I’m responsible for your safety right now. I might have no idea what I’m doing, but that doesn’t make me any less accountable.
Lesson #3: Preparation
If this trip sounds messy at best, it might surprise you that I thought I was very prepared to take it. Before launching, I put a lot of work into my preparation. Hours and hours out on the water, training with my captain. Carefully planning my journey down to the hour.
I felt ready. And I was ready, for what I knew was coming. The problem was this adventure was one big series of unknowns, things I couldn’t have anticipated and couldn’t have planned for. So when a well-meaning crew member would ask, “Why didn’t you plan for XYZ?” my response was always the same: “How would I have known to think of that?”
You need preparation, but not because you can account for every last detail. You need preparation because you’re going to face plenty of unforeseen challenges no matter what you do. May as well plan for the ones you can anticipate.
Lesson #4: Steven
My boat stopped working when I was in Manhattan. Wouldn’t start. Of course, my boat requires a highly specialized technician. And, of course, there was only one available technician in my location—Steven. And, of course, it was literally Steven’s last day on the job. So if he didn’t help me, I wasn’t sure what I would do.
Steven agreed to look at my boat, with the grumpiness that’s characteristic of boat technicians (it’s a whole thing in the industry). I treated him with extreme kindness and respect. I got out of his way when he asked me to (“What I need you to do is not talk to me.”) After a few hours troubleshooting, Steven agreed to come back the next morning to put the boat in the water. I was skeptical, but he showed up as promised.
We lowered the boat, but no dice. It still wouldn’t start.
Steven took pity on me and told me that he would return again. He was no longer technically employed and under no obligation to help me. The morning arrived miserable: pouring rain. But Steven showed up. Overnight, he had done additional research on how to override my boat’s safety system. He did his thing, and somehow, the boat started. Steven’s final warning was that I shouldn’t shut the boat off for the rest of my trip. It likely wouldn’t start again. I decided to worry about that later and pulled out of the harbor.
This technician has single-handedly bolstered my faith in humanity. I often talk about aligning incentives between companies and their people. But incentives are more than compensation and benefits. Steven’s incentives should have kept him home on that rainy day. But he showed up. If we’re willing to ask for help, and if we treat people well, they’re far more open to helping us than we might think.
Lesson #5: Good, bad, or wait and see?
As I may have mentioned, this trip cost a LOT more than I anticipated. When Steven pulled my boat out of the water, we discovered that some of the most sensitive equipment was covered in black oil. There were two gallons of salt water in an area that should definitely not have any water. These issues were related to bottoming out on the very first day of my trip.
The repairs were annoying and expensive. But were they a bad thing? As my friend Lee Maxey would say, “You don’t know. It just is.”
It turns out that the repairs I made in Manhattan saved me $200,000. I narrowly avoided replacing the entire engine system on the boat. Mistakes and misfortunes: don’t be so quick to label them as a bad thing. In the moment, they may seem negative, but they could end up creating a new opportunity or preventing an outcome that would be much worse.
Lesson #6: Time
So believe it or not, in the midst of this entire journey, I was still working. Obviously, my schedule was limited. I could only do what was absolutely necessary.
I learned that much of my working day was not absolutely necessary.
I pack my schedule, often with back to back (to back) meetings. That feels like progress because it seems productive. I’m busy. And doesn’t that mean things are moving forward?
Turns out, my businesses run just as well when I’m less involved. My leadership teams can solve problems without me weighing in on every decision. And I can breathe, reflect, and get clarity about what the business needs next.
As I reenter, I’m committed to cutting back on meetings and prioritizing only what’s absolutely necessary. The rest can happen without me.
***
You know that saying, “If it doesn’t challenge you, it doesn’t change you?” After 23 days at sea, I believe that’s true. Transformation is uncomfortable. It pushes against who we are: our beliefs, our habits, and all the places where we feel safe. Growth, whether as individuals or for our companies, is uncomfortable because it’s fundamentally uncertain. We prepare, we use the data, we make the best decisions we can. And then…we see what happens.
What I am certain of: this trip will become a cornerstone of my identity. For the things I accomplished, the ways I failed, and the lessons I learned about myself.
Above all, I’m extremely grateful for the many people who helped me on the way: family, friends, and, of course, Steven. Your presence, kindness, and friendship mean more than you know.
