The Fellowship of the Ring
In the last weeks of April 2019, while PAC Consulting was in its infancy, a few friends of mine had been catching striped bass along one of our local beaches. Not wanting to miss out, I jumped at the opportunity late one morning. Little did I realize that a casual fishing trip would become metaphoric for my new endeavor as an entrepreneur.
I had been casting from the beach for about an hour with nothing to show for it. My day was winding down and I was preparing for my last cast. I was using a lure that I had a particular fancy for. It was chrome plated, handmade in Southern California (so it had a little nostalgic value) and—best of all—it ‘swam’ really well.
I made the same cast I’d made fifty times that day. As the coveted lure flew out into the surf, a tangle formed at my reel, the line parted and the lure sailed into the surf. It was an $8 lure. Yes, I could buy another online, but they’re handmade and good swimmers need to be selected by hand. It was about 75 degrees outside. The water was somewhere around 60 degrees. I had a choice: go home or take a shot at wading into the surf to retrieve this diva of a lure.
The water sans wetsuit wasn’t that bad; the water clarity and visibility were. I could just barely make out my hand at the end of my outstretched arm. It then occurred to me that I didn’t need to find the lure; instead, I only needed to find the 20-30 feet of line still attached to it. After fifteen minutes or so of wading around in circles, I stepped across the line, grabbed it, took a couple turns around my hand and walked into the beach.
You think this story's over, but it's ready to begin. – Ad Rock, Beastie Boys
Perseverance and will had won the day even if the prize was only an $8 lure. I walked down to the waterline, bent down to rinse my hands in the now rising tide and then my wedding ring slipped right off. There was no hesitation around a knuckle, no moment where my curled finger could slow the fall; it came right off into the sandy water. I had effectively traded my wedding ring for an $8 lure. Brilliant.
My first thought: What is my wife going to think and say? “Well, frankly, I’m surprised it lasted as long as it did.” There was certainly much to laugh about when hearing the story, but the loss was obviously disappointing for both of us.
The next morning, I had another choice to make: cut my losses and fish elsewhere or risk the day’s fishing and try my luck for the ring in the morning low tide. Armed with the basket portion of a salad spinner for a sieve, I set out to find my ring.
Back down on the beach, I triangulated approximately where the ring should have ended up. A fool’s errand, really, given the effects of waves and tide but I had a plan, a starting point and a method nonetheless. I’d sifted through three salad spinner baskets full of sand to no avail when a fisherman walked up. He asked about my odd little activity and I filled him in on the recent events. “You know, I’ve got a metal detector up in the truck. You want to give that a try?” After accepting his offer in earnest, I set out and purchased a couple of batteries for the metal detector and a six-pack of beer for him.
I met him back at his truck with the batteries and beer about fifteen minutes later. He lent me the metal detector and I handed over the beer. I thanked him profusely—he had dramatically improved my chances of success.
I headed back to my little search quadrant and began sweeping the area. Just as I was homing in on my third hit with the metal detector, a lady walked up with her dog. “You ever find anything with that?” she asked. After telling her the story, she tells me to wait a minute and begins praying inaudibly or speaking to a spirit or deity whose name I never caught. “I keep getting this vision of a circle.” she repeated a few times. At this point, I’ll take all the help I can get. While we’re talking, I home in on my latest target and begin digging. Upon removing my fourth or fifth handful of sand, my wedding ring falls out of the wall of the hole, settles to the bottom and awaits being picked up.
Persistence, perseverance, will, hope, risk, a little tenacity, and the willingness and helpfulness of complete strangers is what it took to accomplish the implausible. It was far easier to imagine ways in which this story would end poorly than end well. The timing, plot and conclusion of this story could not have been more appropriate as I set out upon building my own business. No business will succeed without persistence, perseverance, will, hope, tenacity and a little willingness and helpfulness of complete strangers . These are the bedrock principles upon which PAC Consulting is founded.