Some projects are measured in spreadsheets. Others are measured in miles of open ocean and the calibre of the people who trust you to stand beside them.

 

In 1993, I had the privilege of playing a key role in shaping and sailing one of South Africa’s great maritime stories: the final offshore campaign of legendary solo round‑the‑world sailor Bertie Reed. We raced together in the Cape to Rio on his 60‑foot yacht Grinaker—renamed Harbour Island for the race in honour of the title sponsor—alongside two of his closest friends and two other professional ocean racers.

 

Grinaker was no ordinary boat. Designed by Roger Martin for Reed’s third single‑handed circumnavigation in the 1990–1991 BOC Challenge, she had already earned her place in history. In the Southern Ocean, near Cape Horn, Bertie had turned that same 18‑metre yacht back into the teeth of the weather to rescue fellow South African sailor John Martin after his boat struck an iceberg and sank. For that act, Reed received South Africa’s highest civilian decoration for bravery, the Wolraad Woltemade Decoration. This was the vessel—and the man—I was now privileged to join for his final major campaign.

 

Being instrumental in putting that programme together meant more than logistics and sponsorship. It meant helping to frame a last chapter worthy of a career that had included three solo circumnavigations—on Altech Voortrekker (1982/83), Stabilo Boss (1986/87) and Grinaker (1990/91)—and then stepping aboard as crew, fully exposed to the same risks and demands. Life on Harbour Island was an exercise in pure fundamentals: discipline, trust, endurance, and the kind of leadership that is earned, never declared.

 

Crossing the South Atlantic in that context taught lessons no boardroom can replicate: how high‑performance teams function when there is nowhere to hide; how true professionals manage fear, fatigue and failure; and how legacy is built not on a single heroic act, but on a lifetime of repeatedly doing the hard thing when no one is watching.

 

For clients today, this experience sits quietly beneath the surface of everything I do. It informs how I lead under pressure, how I think about risk and resilience, and how seriously I take the privilege of being invited into the inner circle when the stakes are high—whether on the ocean, in the bush, or in the boardroom.