The Anchor That Changed How I Think About Leadership
My first experience with leadership didn’t happen in a workplace — it happened out on the water.
I was teenager, out on a boat with my dad, when he asked me to drop the anchor. Eager to please, I took the instruction at face value. I’d never handled an anchor before, but I didn’t ask questions. I just threw it over and hoped for the best.
About an hour into the trip, we heard the urgent alarm of an approaching ship.
We’d drifted — right into a shipping lane in the middle of Port Phillip Bay.
The anchor hadn’t held. It hadn’t even been secured properly to the boat.
My dad quickly rectified the situation, albeit with a colourful new set of Croatian swear words I hadn’t heard before. As we motored to safety, I felt terrible. Embarrassed. Like I’d let him down.
But how could I have known what I’d never been taught?
This is exactly what leadership feels like for so many people.
They’re handed responsibility and told to “drop anchor” — to provide stability, direction, and security for their teams. They’re eager to do well, but without the tools, training, or support to actually succeed.
So they throw themselves into the role and hope for the best.
Until something goes wrong. Until they drift into dangerous territory. Until the urgent alarms start sounding.
That moment on the water has shaped everything I do as a leadership coach.
Because I learned that good intentions aren’t enough. Enthusiasm isn’t enough. Even natural ability isn’t enough.
Leadership without proper foundation drifts.
The most well-meaning effort won’t hold without something solid to anchor to — clear expectations, proven frameworks, ongoing guidance, and the confidence that comes from knowing you’re equipped for what lies ahead.
That’s what my work is about: making sure new leaders never have to navigate by hope alone.
Instead of throwing them the anchor and walking away, I show them how to secure it properly, read the currents, and adjust course with confidence.
Because everyone deserves to feel steady in their leadership — not adrift, hoping the next alarm isn’t meant for them.