Another Near-Death Experience

Thanks for being here and taking a sip from the Fountain

Before boardrooms, brands, and big ideas, there was a borrowed surfboard, a setting sun, and a near-death paddle off the coast of Nassau.

This is the story of how I got swept out into the Caribbean Sea, and how I made it back to shore with nothing but adrenaline, instinct, and gratitude.

It’s about being in over your head (literally), learning to take ownership, and finding the strength to keep going when no one is coming to save you.

In this episode I tell the the story about that night off Love Beach, and the lessons I carried home + some cool AI tools that are catching my eye.

⏳ Estimated Read Time: 7 minutes

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It was a Friday. After working construction all day, Chris Hill a fellow resident of Love Beach, asked me if I wanted to go surfing. I had not surfed before and was living in Nassau, Bahamas, working at a development called Old Fort Bay, which was next to Lyford Cay, where old money lived in a tax haven bliss.

Chris was hopping on a boat headed to the continental shelf - about a 30 minute boat ride - to ride a swell which broke as the ocean floor falls from 80 feet to as deep as 13,000 ft off the Great Bahama Bank.

I decided to join Chris and we boated north, me with a borrowed board.

When we arrived there was another boat anchored. It was hard not to notice the sheer size of the waves where we stopped. We dropped anchor at about 5:30 pm, and I jumped in the water wearing board shorts.

I proceeded to get smashed around in a few failed, brave attempts to catch a wave.

Eventually I was getting tired and beat up and I paddled over to Chris and said I was going to go back to the boat to rest, catch my breath.

He said cool and I turned the board for the boat.

As I got closer to the boat I could see it in front of me, then it was kitty corner, then all of a sudden like beside me, but still about 20 ft away, then I was past the boat, in very little time and paddles, I was washed out and beyond the boat. 

Chris’s boat was even farther now and this was my first instinct that I could get washed out, into the Caribbean Sea.

The force of the water floated me away and the boat appeared to be distancing. A map of Old Fort Bay and Lyford Cay below shows a huge bay below love beach and then a peninsula little lighthouse indicating the edge of land for thousands of miles.

It happened so fast - Chris thought I had gotten in the other boat, and the other boat thought I was with Chris - and now I had to swim and paddle for my life to get back to shore, which was an eternity away.

The sun was heading down, I was terrified, and paddling was my only choice.

I could see the horizon and as the waves would go up and down I could spot land and it was probably about 6:30pm - I thought about:

The motivation to get back to shore was at an all-time high.

My skin was tingling on my hands as I fought the waves and paddled toward what was becoming distant lights along the beach as the day turned to night.

I kept paddling as the current pushed me back - now it was dark and I was trying to focus on a certain light as my waypoint to shore. 

It was scary as hell being out there miles into the ocean.

After about 2 hours I heard a small “whisssh, whisssh, whissssh” off in the distance.

As I got near, I saw a small whitewater wave where the noise was coming from. As I paddled up to it, I realized it was water running over the very top of a little reef - my little life lily pad - and I paddled up to it.

The board hit hard rock and I rolled over and looked up at the sky. I gave thanks to my lucky stars and breathed in deep, which fuelled my energy for the last leg. The stars were beautiful as in the Caribbean their is very little surface light from the earth - so the sky somehow feels like you’re closer to space. 

The journey was at least 75% done and I was pretty sure I was not going to wash out into the ocean any longer. I just had to finish the paddle. I got off the reef and kept paddling. 

The current carried me diagonally, pushing me forward but also sideways with the drift. As the shoreline came into focus and I spotted the mansions of Old Fort Bay and Lyford Cay, I knew I was going to make it.

As I got within a few hundred feet of the sand I could see doors and windows of homes and washed up on the beach, greeted by a barking dog who was running toward me.

I swung my board at him, walked inland and found a path up between the houses.

I was able to get to the fence and jump it, landing safely on West Bay Street. I heard a vehicle coming down the road so I stepped out with my board blocking the path and hailed down the truck.

In the dark of night, the driver saw a desperate and soaked surfer in boardies. I stopped him and said “I need a ride back to Love Beach” he told me to hop in the back and he graciously dropped me back at the top of the dirt road. I started down the road and came across a great friend a neighbour Chad Towe who joined me the final stretch home. 

The bonfire was burning on the beach as it usually was and my adrenaline was firing from my adventure - I wasn’t ready to go home.

Chris was sitting around the fire and asked how I was doing. He said he thought I got in the other boat, and we laughed and cracked a Kalik beer and I told the tale of my unplanned swim.

I remember that night in vivid detail and we had one of the best nights ever really appreciating being alive, on solid ground, and how I figured it out and lived to tell the tale.

I hope you liked the adventure and me trying my best to bring you out there with me. The lessons from that day, that carry forward today and apply to all endeavours are:

I have since become a much better surfer and now enjoy surfing with my kids. We’ve surfed in Hawaii and California, on level-appropriate waves.

My biggest fear is sharks and I even have a shark tattoo - just getting in the ocean gets my heart rate up - so I hope all the people around The Fountain are being their bravest selves, and this near-death swim inspires us all to live a little more this year and seek life's adventures.

This week we tried out different AI tools for The Fountain, some comical, some potentially useful. Enjoy and tell us what you think! Hopefully this gives you a laugh.

Q: What are your philosophies on leadership, especially when it comes to building early-stage teams?

A: First and foremost, I really love listening to people who’ve done it before me. If someone has experience; if they’ve been to the big leagues and they’re telling me how to tweak my swing.

I’m all ears. I pay attention. I respect it.

But if it’s someone who hasn’t been there, I don’t give it as much weight. So for me, a big part of leadership is knowing when to lean on people who’ve made it through the jungle you’re about to step into.

Now, when you’re doing something new, when you’re creating a category or launching something that doesn’t have a clear precedent those people might not exist. In that case, leadership has to come back to values.

You need to know what yours are and lead with them. For example, if Kyle’s value is hard work—no excuses—then as a leader, he’s going to expect that from everyone around him. If Madison is obsessed with details, then you’d better believe she’s leading on precision. That’s what she’ll hold people accountable to.

So part of leadership is being self-aware, knowing your strengths, knowing your role, and delivering on that consistently. I think that’s something I picked up from sports: know your role, be great at it, and contribute it fully to the team.

Also, consistency is key. It’s hard. I’ve failed at it too. But showing up every day at 7:30 to open the gate, staying in the room until a decision is made, those things matter.

Leadership is about being firm without being rude. It’s about being there. It’s about being yourself, and making that clear to others.