Sir Peter Blake is widely recognised as one of New Zealand's great leaders. This recognition and admiration is derived not from what he achieved as a yachtsman, but from the way he went about doing things. As New Zealanders, we saw in him values and an approach that represented what is best about this country and its people.
Peter dreamed big dreams and was excited and motivated by extraordinary challenges. He often said, 'If it isn't hard, it isn't worth doing.' He understood that achieving difficult things requires a team of dedicated and hardworking team mates, and that a group of talented individuals is not enough.
Peter gathered around him not the best people for the job, but the best people for the team. He recognised and gave opportunity to the potential of what a person could become, rather than relying on what they had already achieved.
He trusted those team mates to make their best contribution as they saw fit, rather than prescribing what they should do.
Most of all, through his actions, Peter demonstrated what it takes to accomplish incredible challenges - determination and a will to succeed and never give up. To win the Whitbread Round the World Yacht Race took Peter five attempts over 17 years. On their own, these previous attempts could be viewed as failures, but in the context of Peter's life they were not. They were experiences and opportunities he used to learn, improve and develop.
Two attempts to win the Jules Verne Trophy (for non-stop circumnavigation of the world) and one unsuccessful attempt before leading Team New Zealand to victory in the 1995 America's Cup, are other examples of his tenacity.
All of which shared the same basic approach: a clear and ambitious goal;hard-working and fun-loving team mates; a commitment to continuous improvement; and a 'never, ever give up' attitude.
What the story of Sir Peter Blake shows us is that ordinary New Zealanders can achieve extraordinary things. Through belief, determination, a willingness to learn and a desire for constant improvement, by trusting and empowering team mates
As a teenager I fell in love with sailing and like any teenager smitten with a sport I had my dreams and heroes. For me the ultimate was to sail around the world. At that time the only significant yacht race around the world was the Whitbread. Started in 1973 and held every four years, by the time I started following it in the mid-'70s it had evolved from a race very much based around seamanship and adventure into a combination of hardcore yacht racing and adventure.
Peter Blake was already quite well known and widely respected among the New Zealand yachting fraternity. As the sailing master of the offshore maxi Condor he was one of the few New Zealanders who were full-time yachtsmen. While he was primarily based overseas, the interviews conducted live by a young Radio New Zealand reporter named Peter Montgomery were very descriptive and the first I had heard with somebody racing a yacht in the middle of the ocean. Between the two of them they managed to convey the adventure and excitement of ocean racing; exaggerated by the strange warbling pitch of Peter's voice as he spoke long-distance via the single-sideband highfrequency radio on board.
Peter sounded both incredibly excited by it all, but at the same time so in control and relaxed, you just sensed he was in his element and enjoying himself immensely. During those radio interviews he used expressions I remember to this day:
'The barometer is dropping like a stone right now and we are expecting full gale conditions by tonight. There's no moon at present and so we are driving the yacht down the face of monstrous waves virtually blind, trying to keep her under control. It's really quite something.'
It was captivating stuff for a young Kiwi sailor, enhanced by the excitement that Peter Montgomery expressed in his enthusiastic delivery, a trait he still possesses today.
Competing in the Whitbread seemed a fantasy until I learned that Glen Sowry, whom I had competed against in youth divisions, had been selected for Peter Blake's team to compete in the 1985-86 Whitbread on board Lion New Zealand. This was quite a coup, as Glen was young and relatively inexperienced in offshore sailing terms and his selection raised many eyebrows among the hardcore offshore-yachting fraternity.
For me, it was the first glimmer of hope that the dream might be possible after all.
At this time I was studying and sailing in Los Angeles, trying to get some big-boat and offshore experience and to build up my CV so that I might be attractive as a crew member for the next Whitbread race, which was due to start in 1989. Because the preparation time for around-the-world races is so long, most experienced campaigners start putting together their crews and teams several years before the race starts. I tried to think of who to approach, and began to ask around and send out my CV to those I had heard were assembling crews for the next race. I had been told that Peter Blake had hand-picked his crew from those who had been on board Lion New Zealand and so I didn't bother sending anything to him.
The only response I had to my enquiries was from Erle Williams, who, at that stage, was helping Grant Dalton get together a crew for a New Zealand entry to be sponsored by Fisher and Paykel. I was extremely excited to be given the chance for an interview and after my meeting with Erle felt very optimistic about my chances. Weeks went by and I hadn't heard anything.
At last the letter arrived, and I hadn't been chosen.
Time was moving on and most teams had chosen their crews for the next Whitbread. I decided I needed some help and that if anybody knew how to get on a Whitbread crew it was Peter Blake. I had never met him, but with Glen's encouragement I got the phone number of where he was based and decided to call him and ask for his help. I introduced myself to the receptionist who answered the phone and gave her my best sales pitch: 'My name is Mark Orams. I am a small-boat sailor from the North Shore. It's my dream to sail in the Whitbread and I would very much like to talk to Peter Blake about how I might make that happen.'
I expected to get the fob-off, 'Leave a message, he's in a meeting'.
Much to my surprise she said, 'One moment please', and click, the phone went through and a voice said, 'Peter Blake here.'
My heart was pounding - I was talking for the first time to my childhood hero. I gave him the same brief sales pitch and he said, 'Why don't you send me in a copy of your CV and then come and see me on Friday and we'll have a cup of tea and a chat about it.'
I thanked him, put the phone down, hand-delivered my CV to the receptionist within the hour and spent the next three days practising all the things I was going to tell Peter Blake at the meeting on Friday.
At last, Friday morning came around and, incredibly nervous, I went in to meet Peter Blake for the first time. I introduced myself to the receptionist and was then invited into his office where, for the next 15 minutes or so, we had a cup of tea and a chat. What I remember most, besides my nerves, was that we did not really talk about sailing at all. All of the practising I had been doing in front of the mirror had been a waste of time. Peter did not ask one question about my sailing background or ability. It was just a very ordinary conversation.
We chatted about current affairs and had a few laughs. I remember distinctly one strange question he asked, 'Have you got any food dislikes?', and I said, 'Yeah, I hate onions!' and he said he hated macaroni cheese.
It was just a pleasant, ordinary everyday conversation and then when he had finished his cup of tea he stood up, thanked me very much for coming in and wished me the best of luck. I took my cue and stood, shook his hand firmly, looked him in the eye, thanked him for his time and the tea and then left.
I remember thinking two things as I left his office. One, what a great guy, easy to talk to and have a laugh with, and incredibly polite. Two, I didn't have a hope in hell of doing the Whitbread.
Peter Blake had no interest in my sailing abilities, did not ask me one question relevant to my doing the around-the-world race. He was just being courteous and passing the time of day.
I felt incredibly discouraged and down. It just didn't seem as if things were going to happen for me.
So it was a surprise when the phone rang that afternoon and it was Peter Blake on the line. He thanked me for coming in and asked if I would mind coming in again on Monday morning as there was something he wished to discuss with me. I said, 'I'll come in at three in the morning if you want me to!' He laughed, and wished me a good weekend.
I spent the next two days and three nights pondering what Peter wanted to talk to me about. All I could think of was that he would ask if I could come in and do some volunteer work for them, to sweep the floors or some other menial task. I would have done this gladly, as I had made it clear that I would do anything just to get involved with a Whitbread campaign.
Monday morning came and I went in early and waited in the reception area. The receptionist called through to Peter's office and told him I was waiting. What happened next I will never forget. The door to his office opened and he came out across the reception area, held out his hand and said, 'Welcome aboard. We would like you to join our crew for the next Whitbread Round the World Race.'
I could not believe it. There it was, my dream being handed to me. I was speechless, catching flies for about a minute. Peter thought my reaction hilarious and threw his head back and laughed. To this day, that was the biggest break ever given to me in my life.
What I realised much later was that the 15-minute conversation we had over a cup of tea was very significant. Peter was looking for one more crew member for his Whitbread campaign and was considering a number of people. He already knew that I was a good sailor - remember, he had asked for a copy of my CV.
He had seen my background, the regattas competed in, the sea miles completed, the championships won, and he knew I had potential as a yachtsman. What he didn't know was what kind of person I was, whether I would fit into the kind of team he was building to win the Whitbread. That 15-minute cup of tea was about compatibility, about 'fit', about attitude and sense of humour. It was about his gut reaction to me as a person, and whether it felt right.
What Peter Blake understood was that in selecting for a great team the most critical attribute to look for is attitude. You can give somebody more experience, you can coach and teach skills, but you can't give somebody their attitude. That comes from their motivation and the kind of person they are. This is the most important lesson I learned from Peter Blake about getting the right people to build a great team.
Peter also looked for compatibility. He was interested in a person's ability to get along with others, their ability to laugh, especially at themselves, and he was interested in their honesty and in their tolerance of others. He was always wary of big egos. I don't think that any of this was a structured or deliberate strategy on his part. He didn't have a checklist of these things as a means of guiding his team selections. It was more intuitive than that.
He was guided by whether somebody felt right, whether he liked them and whether they could have a laugh together. His intuition had been developed over many years of involvement with offshore sailing crews and he trusted his instincts.
Edited extract from Blake: Leader, by Mark Orams, published by Random House, RRP is $39.99 and publication date is 3 July 2009. NZ Leadership Week runs until July 3; for information see www.sirpeterblaketrust.org