Leading on the Edge: Extraordinary Stories and Leadership Insights from The World's Most Extreme Workplace

Preface

I don't know exactly what it was that woke me up that time. It could have been the crash of my laptop as it slid off the table onto the floor; it might have been the crunch of my neck as I yet again slid up the bunk and whacked my head on the bulkhead. Perhaps it was the series of ship's noises as the icebreaker crested the 11-metre swells, the mighty rush of water and the 120-kilometre-per-hour winds ripping through the superstructure, the feeling of weightlessness as the ship first hung in the air then plunged downward to hit the surface again with an almighty boom, jarring every rivet, every tooth and every frayed nerve … Yes, maybe a combination of these things woke me.

It wasn't the first time I had been woken that night. By this stage I hadn't slept through the night in over a week. What sleep I did get was 30 minutes snatched here and there when my body simply shut down. It was cold, uncomfortable, wet and terrifying.

I rearranged my pillows for the twentieth time, searching for some combination of cushioning that would protect the top of my head, my neck and my ankles from the fore and aft sliding along the bunk. But then I would have no protection from the side-to-side rolling of the ship and my sides would be battered!

They say people who have never been seasick can't appreciate the depths of despair it brings. It's not just an upset tummy. Everyone's heard the term ‘green around the gills’ … it just doesn't capture the sallow, pasty sheen you turn when you're ...