Chapter 2: The Maiden Voyage – Navigating New Challenges in Business and Boating
Life is full of maiden voyages– those first forays on a new boat or into a new body of water, into a new business or career, or into new relationships in life. We enter something new, partake in it for a period of time, and then are often faced with the choice of continuing or moving on. There are rarely things in life that remain the same. The temperament of the sea has the potential to shift from calm to catastrophic in a surprisingly short time. Sales in business can swing from famine to feast and back again based on both known and unforeseen factors. Who we are and how we relate to others will also change course throughout the years. With each maiden voyage we face, we are presented with the opportunity to step beyond our comfort zone and learn valuable lessons.
Former US President Franklin D. Roosevelt once said, “A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor,” and I couldn’t agree more. The sea has always been a place of growth, challenge, and discovery for me. My journey as a boater has been defined by pushing limits—sometimes stepping into situations I wasn’t fully prepared for—and learning immensely along the way. My childhood boating experiences with my father taught me a lot. As a young adult, I felt prepared to move into the world of boat-ownership for myself. It was a level up, but I hoped that the years of experience I had gained pulling into docks, handling equipment maintenance, and navigating through various weather conditions would make for a smooth transition. I was incorrect.
Boating is an expensive hobby that took years of work to be able to afford. I wanted to make sure that I was spending my dollars wisely on my first purchase and setting myself up for success. I was following that old adage about an ounce of prevention being worth a pound of cure. After an exhaustive search, I found and purchased what seemed to be the perfect vessel– a 33-foot Egg Harbor in the Chesapeake Bay. We went through the usual buying process where the boat was surveyed, the seller made the necessary repairs, and the purchase was complete. I would be smooth sailing from there!
My plan was straightforward. I would bring the boat north through the Chesapeake Bay in the mid-Atlantic region. Then I would navigate the C&D Canal, a 14 mile waterway connecting Chesapeake Bay to the Delaware River. From there, I’d head down the Delaware Bay and up the coast to Tuckerton, New Jersey where my new vessel would call home. I felt confident after years of running my dad’s 36-foot Pacemaker through various waterways since high school. Even still, the selling broker insisted on giving me a handling lesson before I started the journey. He accompanied me to the helm as I maneuvered to the fuel dock to top off the tanks. After watching me handle the boat with ease, he agreed I didn’t need further instruction. Clearly, I had the knowledge to handle this vessel.
My confidence, however, was short-lived. They say that “you don’t know what you don’t know” and that was partially true for this leveling up in my boating journey. I was confident of my skills on a boat that I was family with, but didn’t take into account that every new boat has its own lessons to teach us. You cannot level up and expect that what you considered business as usual would translate to the new experience. My first lesson in this was realizing that I had brought the wrong crew for this maiden voyage.
What can I say? I was excited to have a boat of my own and wanted to share that joy with my family. In lieu of a well-seasoned crew, I brought my spouse at the time, Sue, and our three young sons. We made it through Chesapeake Bay without much trouble and hoped that this trip would be cemented in our memories as one of those idyllic family moments. But as we began our journey through the C&D canal, things started to take a turn. I noticed the bilge pump, a very important mechanism that removes unwanted water from the lowest part of the boat’s hull, kept running. This wasn’t normal. The pump should only be running if we were taking on water. I slowed the boat and asked Sue to take the helm while I inspected the engine room.
Sure enough, the bilge was full of water. I searched in vain for the source of the boat’s leak. Meanwhile, our vessel crept along the water as the bilge pump eventually succeeded in removing all of the water from the hull. With our momentary crisis averted, I resumed my place at the helm and cranked up our speed to continue onward. It didn’t take long for the bilge pump to kick on again. I slowed the boat once more, put Sue back at the wheel, and went below. Sure enough, the hull was filled with water again. More searching for a leak was followed by more frustration at having zero explanation. The only thing I knew was that our speed was playing a role in taking on water. I would have to trust Sue to navigate us along at a greater speed while I stayed below to investigate. Fortunately, my novice first mate was up for the challenge.
We increased our speed to a high RPM and I returned, once again, to the engine room. The issue became evident as water sprayed out of heat exchangers, the mechanism on a boat that transfers heat from the engine to the cool sea or lake water to keep the engine from overheating. The old, cracked end caps couldn’t handle the pressure when the engines were under load. This was a serious problem… and my second mistake. I had no spare end caps at my disposal to fix the problem. If we resumed a normal cruising speed, there would be no way that the bilge pump alone could keep up with the water spurting in.
I find that in these precarious boating and business situations, quitting is not an option. You had to make a decision, even if all of your options aren’t ideal. While I didn’t have an experienced crew with me, I did have a sailing partner who was willing to do whatever it took to keep us safe. Sue had to jump into action, using a hand bilge pump in the cockpit to manually remove water and keep us afloat. What she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in sheer determination. I have never seen someone pump water from a boat so furiously before. Her work allowed me to focus on navigating the boat to the nearest repair destination. Through our determined teamwork, we made our way to Schaefer’s Canal House on the C&D Canal. My dad arrived shortly thereafter with new end caps for the heat exchangers. I installed them while Sue regaled my father with the newest memorable boat story to add to her life experiences. We were fortunate enough that the remainder of our trip went off without a hitch.
Many years after that troubled maiden voyage on my Egg Harbor vessel, I found myself in uncharted territory once again. Sue and I amicably ended our marriage and I was now in a new relationship with a wonderful woman named Kate. While inexperienced in boating, she shared my excitement for learning and thirst for adventure. I also began this period of my life with a new boat– a 42-foot Hatteras cockpit motor yacht. While it was the largest boat I had owned up until that point, it was powered by the same twin engines of my previous vessels and had a bow thruster—a feature new to me—that made docking significantly easier.
I decided to complete the newness trifecta of that time by charting an ambitious 800 mile journey up the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) from Savannah, Georgia, to Somers Point, New Jersey. The ICW in total is a 3,000-mile-long waterway running along the Atlantic and Gulf coasts of the United States. Built by the Army Corps of Engineers, it’s a series of natural inlets, rivers, bays, and man-made canals designed to provide a safe route for military and commercial vessels. Today, it’s a haven for recreational boaters, offering a unique way to explore the coastline.
My prior boating experience was limited to offshore fishing and navigating the back bays of New Jersey. Inland waterways like the ICW were entirely uncharted territory for me. While I was still working with a novice crew (Kate) for this journey, I thought that I could overcompensate through extensive preparation. I spent hours watching YouTube videos about traveling the ICW. I purchased books like The Waterway Guide and Bob423’s Guide, which became essential companions for the journey ahead. These resources offered detailed charts, recommended anchorages, and tips for navigating tricky sections of the ICW. Where my crew lacked experience, I would be sure to make up for it with spare parts and extensive planning. What I didn’t plan for was that I would be pushing our relationship to its limits.
I loved Kate’s ambitious spirit, embarking on this journey with me while having no prior boating experience. While I tried my best to explain procedures—docking, tossing lines, setting fenders—Kate quickly discovered that explanations can only go so far. Hands-on experience is where the real learning happens. As we were docking, I watched as Kate tossed the bowline to a dockhand waiting to assist with guiding us into place. While she gave it her best effort, the bowline hit the bowrail, fell short, and landed in the water. I sighed as we worked to pull the rope out of the water.
Earlier, I had told Kate to make sure the line was under the bow rail. This was sound advice and easy enough to follow—except Kate didn’t yet know what a bow rail was. In fact, she was still learning the difference between bow and stern, port and starboard. The amount of information and level of newest was creating overwhelm. Overwhelm was breeding frustration. Kate blamed me for not being clearer in my instructions. I realized that while that detail would have been easily understood by the average crew member, it was easily lost by someone brand new who was trying to make sense of the situation. I was reminded that communication is not just saying the words, it’s saying them in a way that the other person can receive and understand them.
The amount of learning and newness of it all began to wear on Kate. She was growing more irritated with each small mistake that was made. It’s at that point that I realized I needed to provide some perspective. After all, we were sailing on an adventure together on a beautiful yacht. A soggy bowline didn’t need to ruin the life experience for us. I said, “Kate, I’m having the time of my life. You getting angry at small mistakes isn’t going to ruin my time. You’re doing a great job for a first-time boater! Please try to enjoy the journey.”
The moment was a reminder that we can’t always choose what happens, but we can choose how we feel about it. I didn’t get upset when Kate made mistakes because I knew they were part of the process. This philosophy extends beyond boating to my business. I encourage my managers to take risks based on their expertise. Some ideas succeed, others fail, but every failure is a lesson.
This same lesson, that mistakes and failures are a necessary part of the process, has been evident throughout my life, regardless of location or circumstances. I once coached my son’s youth hockey team and during a skating drill, one player fell hard while trying to go faster. As he lay sprawled out on the ice the rest of the team laughed. I could see the embarrassment on his face. This was time for a life lesson for the team. I stopped the drill and explained that the fallen player was the only one pushing their limits. If you don’t fall, you’re playing it safe—and you won’t improve. From that day on, falling during practice became a badge of honor. I hoped that someday in the near future, Kate would look back on these small boating mistakes and realize that they were a necessary part of the learning process and meant that she was trying something new, pushing her own limits.
Fortunately, Kate took the experience in stride and our maiden voyage together is one that we can look back on with fond memories and a few laughs. Five years later, we leveled up our boating vessel again to a 64-foot Viking. This time our maiden voyage would be traveling south from New Jersey to Florida. Once again, this journey would be just the two of us, figuring things out and making new mistakes together. While Kate now had years of boating experience, navigating the ICW in a boat that size presented new challenges for both of us. The act of docking was going to test our limits because setting fenders, those cushions that protect the hull from damage, is far trickier on a sportfishing boat than on a motor yacht.
Once again, we were stepping into the unknown, unsure if we were truly ready. But just like before, we embraced the challenge, learned from our past mistakes, and prepared ourselves as much as possible for the journey ahead. What resulted was an experience that was incredibly rewarding. We celebrated the holiday season exploring charming towns along the ICW, creating memories we’ll treasure forever. We never would have reached this point if we weren’t willing to take a chance on those maiden voyages again and again.
The Philosophy of Growth
Taking on a new role—whether it’s as a boat owner or a business leader—is like embarking on an uncharted voyage. You can’t anticipate every challenge, but with the right crew, the right tools, and the ability to adapt, you’ll find your way. There are many parallels between the two worlds; both require preparation, adaptability, and the ability to remain calm under pressure. Here are my four key takeaways from those maiden voyage experiences that I carry with me in both boating and business today:
1. The Right Crew Makes All the Difference
Having family on board made for great memories, but for a maiden voyage we often fare better when we prioritized experience over sentiment. In business, too, success depends on surrounding yourself with the right people—those with the skills, experience, and temperament to handle the challenges ahead.
When I became the CEO of Garvey Corporation, I encountered a similar situation. I inherited a team that was good but not quite aligned with the direction the company needed to go. I didn’t need friendly companionship for us to leisurely drift along; I needed a skilled team who was motivated to push the company to its limits. Over time, I made difficult decisions to get the right people in the right roles. The results spoke for themselves. Whether it’s a boat crew or a business team, assembling the right group is foundational to success.
2. Observation and Diagnosis Are Key
When we’re in a crisis situation, with water spraying in our face and pooling around our ankles, we may be tempted to seek the fastest solution to the problem– get the water out! But getting the water out would not have served us for more than a few minutes. This was a case where the quick solution was not at all the right solution. Instead, it’s imperative to slow down and truly analyze what is happening to find the source of the problem. Without that approach you could find yourself trapped in the endless cycle of bailing out water.
In business, leaders are often tempted to react to problems without fully understanding them. It may be a situation where sales numbers have dropped or customer complaints are on the rise. It’s tempting to provide a quick fix so that optically it appears that you’ve done something. As leaders, it's important that we are not driven by optics, but by results. Before jumping to conclusions, it’s essential to gather data, ask questions, and identify the root cause. Like the cracked end caps on my heat exchangers, the real issue is often hidden beneath the surface.
3. Be Prepared for the Unexpected
I was buying a boat that had passed inspection and had all necessary repairs. In doing so, I let my guard down to the possibility of problems. Looking back, I realize how unprepared I was for that trip. I didn’t have spare parts and I didn’t anticipate potential mechanical failures. Since then, I’ve learned to stock my boat with a comprehensive inventory of spare parts and tools. Taking the time for this type of preparation turns potential disasters into manageable inconveniences.
That same principle applies to business. When I joined Garvey Corporation, our product deliveries were consistently late. It was frustrating for our customers and maddening for our team, who never seemed to be able to get ahead. People kept pointing fingers and looking for who was causing the holdup, when the truth was that nobody was doing anything “wrong”, they just weren’t set up for success. I noticed that the assembly area was disorganized and resulted in a lot of extra time wasted searching for parts and moving between stations. By digging in and understanding the issues firsthand, I was able to implement changes that transformed the company and restored our delivery reputation. Whether it’s carrying spare parts on a boat or building systems to handle unexpected challenges in business, preparation is the ultimate insurance policy.
4. Stay Calm and Problem-Solve
When things don’t go as planned on a boat, panic is your worst enemy. The same goes for business crises. Whether it’s a supply chain disruption, a major customer leaving, or an unexpected economic downturn, the ability to stay calm and think clearly is what separates effective leaders from the rest. Panic leads to poor decision-making. It’s imperative to learn how to loop your mind out of panicked thoughts and into a state of calm problem-solving.
I’ve faced my fair share of business challenges, from mechanical failures on the shop floor to financial hurdles in the boardroom. In every case, the lesson has been the same: stay focused, communicate clearly, and tackle the problem step by step. That maiden voyage could have been a complete disaster. Instead, it became a defining moment in my journey as a boat owner. It taught me the importance of preparation, observation, and teamwork. With those lessons in hand, I’ve found it easier to navigate into future unknown situations.
One of the most valuable life lessons I’ve learned is this: jumping in, ready or not, is often the best way to grow, find your limits, and begin a journey of self-discovery. Fishing with my dad instilled this philosophy in me early on in life. Together, we were always pushing the boundaries of what our boats and equipment were capable of… even if some of the decisions were a bit foolhearty. I vividly remember one trip when we took our 23-foot Formula 62 miles offshore to fish for tuna and marlin. The boat’s fuel tank didn’t hold enough gas for the journey, so we improvised by strapping six plastic Jerry Jugs to the tuna tower. I can only imagine what the other boaters in the vicinity thought as they looked at our unusual (and somewhat unsafe) method of problem solving. Looking back, luck was on our side—it was a perfectly calm day with great visibility. But the truth is, we were far from ready for such a trip. The boat didn’t have twin engines, a life raft, radar, or sufficient built-in fuel capacity.
Today, I wouldn’t dream of venturing that far offshore without the proper equipment. Yet that trip laid the foundation for how I approach challenges: step into the unknown, learn from your mistakes, and prepare better next time. This approach has allowed me to step into bigger endeavors, knowing that I have done the work to give myself a better shot at success. It has made pushing the limits of my comfort zone a regular occurrence in both boating and business. While my preparation has done a lot to mitigate the risk of major disasters– there is always the need to learn and refine the way we operate.
Whether it’s boating, business, or life, I’ve learned that stepping outside your comfort zone is the only way to grow. Embarking on maiden voyages again and again is how you discover your limits and expand them. Fear of failure or criticism holds many people back, but I’ve found that taking risks, making mistakes, and learning from them are the keys to success. So, make a decision, follow your dream, and don’t let fear of criticism stop you. Mistakes are inevitable, but they’re also your greatest teachers. After all, the most rewarding journeys often begin when you dare to sail into the unknown.
