Pinpointing Excellence: The Key to Finding a Quality Executive Coach

Corpus Optima Senior Partner and Executive Coaching Lead John Reed, PhD, MBA, has just  released his insightful new book. This is an important contribution to the field and great guidance for any organization that wants to optimize executive coaching processes and programs.  John Reed is bringing executive coaching into the 21st Century.

Here is a great review that goes to the major implications of  Pinpointing Excellence:

Rakhee Das, Vice President, Teledata:
Pinpointing Excellence is a wonderful and important read for leaders reaching a stage when mere management skills are no longer enough to build a business. Increasingly we turn to coaches to help us be more effective, fine tune our skills and understand our challenges. Only well-trained, confident and skilled coaches can successfully address an executive’s limitations while energizing strengths. Most of us don’t follow clear, structured guidelines to identify a coach. As a remedy, Pinpointing Excellence empowers us, the buyers, to make knowledgeable and consequential choices in searching for the ‘right’ coach. John Reed’s book is timely and relevant in a growing marketplace where leaders seek benefits of quality coaching but lack the judgment, intelligibility, and know-how to pick the best person for the job.

They went on through the night, walking, walking and walking. Shackleton said later:

“It might have been different if we’d had only ourselves to think about. You can get so tired in the snow, particularly if you’re hungry, that sleep seems just the best thing life has to give. And to sleep out there is to die, to die without any pain at all, like Keats’s ideal of death. But if you’re a leader, a fellow that other fellows look to, you’ve got to keep going. That was the thought, which sailed us through the hurricane and tugged us up and down those mountains.”(Morrell, 194)

At one point they did stop to rest:

“They found a little sheltered spot behind a rock and sat down, huddled together with their arms around one another for warmth. Almost at once Worsley and Crean fell asleep, and Shackleton, too, caught himself nodding. Suddenly he jerked his head upright. All the years of Antarctic experience told him that this was the danger sign –the fatal sleep that trails off into freezing death. He fought to stay awake for five long minutes, then he woke the others, telling them that they had slept for half an hour.”

(Lansing, 269)

Finally, at 7 a.m. they Shackleton heard the factory whistle at the whaling station. The three men stood, smiled and shook hands. “Let’s go down,” Shackleton said.

After making their final descent, the men entered the village. Schoolboys ran from them in horror. Noone comes in or enters the village from that direction; strangers would be coming from the docks, not the mountains. And they probably wouldn’t look like these guys looked: heavy beards, ragged clothes, black faces from the oily smoke.

Whaling Factory in South Georgia

When they finally were taken and then appeared before the factory manager, he didn’t recognize them.“Who the hell are you?” he inquired. “My name is Shackleton,” the Boss replied.

The men were treated as heroes by the whalers. They couldn’t believe the voyage and trek across the mountains they had made. They were treated to a dinner that night.

After the dinner, Worsley left on a whaler to go to the other side of the island to pick up McNeish, McCarthy and Vincent.

In less than seventy-two hours, Shackleton was off attempting to reach Elephant Island. It took him four attempts and more than three months to do it, but he did finally get through the ice on August 30,1916.

The men on the island were in the habit of getting up getting going. Wild would yell out, “Lash up and stow! The Boss may come today!” Of course, many men were beginning to doubt that.

One day, however, he did finally come. As the men were huddled around eating lunch, Marston, the artist, came running in announcing the appearance of a ship. Of course, everyone ran out of their little hut. To much cheering the ship drew closer. A small boat was lowered, and Shackleton and Crean were in it. Shackleton had already counted out all twenty-two figures on the shore through his binoculars. “Are all well?” Shackleton shouted. “YES!” came the reply.

Awaiting Rescue

Epilogue:

Ernest Shackleton’s famous journey is a brilliant example of servant leadership in action. His story and the story of his ship the Endurance, named after the Shackleton  Family Motto, is nothing short of miraculous. It teaches us about the living nature of teamwork and about the unselfish, emergent nature of leadership.  It also teaches us about astonishing possibilities that miracles do happen.

Whenever someone points out an example of a great leader, I like to compare the person to Shackelton. If there were a “gold standard” of leadership Shackleton would certainly be it. Few are not moved by his story.

May it continue to inspire us to emulate his example and change the world for the better.

Shackelton and his Crew

Worsley also wrote:

“Looking back on this great boat journey, it seems certain that some of our men would have succumbed to the protracted strain but for Shackleton. So great was his care for his people that, to rough men, it seemed at times…even to the verge of fussiness. If a man shivered more than usual, he would plunge his hand into the heat of the spare clothes bag for the last sodden pair of socks for him.”

(Perkins, 59)

Even though Vincent and McNeish were strained, Crean and McCarthy proved invaluable. Crean and Shackleton had a special friendship:

“Tom Crean had been so long and done so much with Sir E that he had become a privileged retainer. As they turned in, a kind of wordless rumbling, muttering, growling noise could be heard issuing from the dark & gloomy lair in the bows sometimes directed at one another, sometimes at things in general, & sometimes at nothing at all. At times they were so full of quaint conceits & Crean’s remarks were so Irish that I ran risk of explosion by suppressed laughter. ‘Go to sleep Crean & don’t be clucking likean old hen.’ ‘ Boss, I can’t eat those reindeer hairs.  I’ll have an inside on me like a billy goats neck.  Let’s give ‘em to the Skipper & McCarthy. They never know what they’re eating’ & so on.”

(Alexander, 148)

McCarthy was, like Shackleton, just an out-and-out optimist:

“He is the most irrepressible optimist I’ve ever met. When I relieve him at the helm, boat iced and seas pourg:  down yr neck,  he informs me with a happy grin  ‘It’s a grandday, sir.’”  Written by Worlsey.

(Alexander, 148)

And so, even in the midst of all this danger and constant soaking, wetness and ice, they could laugh and get along.

Worsley, with all of the bad weather, and the damage done to his charts by the constant soaking, had only been able to calculate their position four times. The situation was growing dire. If Worsley had miscalculated, and they missed South Georgia, the ocean eastward is a complete void for 3,000 miles until you reach South Africa. And so, they couldn’t afford a mistake.

Then one day, a piece of kelp rolled by and then a cormorant flew over. These birds rarely fly further than fifteen miles from land. Finally, McCarthy shouted, “Land!” It was a little over ten miles away.

The men desperately needed to land. They had been without water for two days. They indeed tried to land, but couldn’t find a place to do so that was safe. They knew that after this night they would be on land. What a relief this must have been. But, true to the pattern, a storm blew them away from the coast. They were almost wrecked and killed, but somehow they were spared. The danger was so grave that, in fact, both Worsley and Shackleton have recorded their resignation and disappointment. They had made such a phenomenally extraordinary journey, and no one would ever know it.  The storm was actually a hurricane that suddenly blew up. This same storm caused a 500-ton steamer to founder. I told you God was saving this man!

Finally, finally, they got to a cove and made landfall on South Georgia.  And so providentially, right where they landed was a water source: a stream. It was May 10, 1916, 522 days after they had first left South Georgia.

Alexander explains the significance of their voyage:

“Undoubtedly they were conscious of having achieved a great journey…But at the moment they could hardly have known – or cared – that in the carefully weighed judgment of authorities yet to come, the voyage of the James Caird would be ranked as one of the greatest boat journeys ever accomplished.”

(Alexander, 153)

Before Shackleton left, he tied up all the loose ends with Wild.  He trusted Wild implicitly and knew that leaving him there was just the same as staying there himself.  He trusted him to keep morale high and to take care of the men.  The rest of the group intensely respected Wild. Wild and Shackleton reviewed what to do during the stay on Elephant Island including what to do if he did not return and numerous other issues.  Shackleton left his last instructions with Wild in a letter:

April 23rd, 1916 Elephant Island

Dear Sir

In the event of my not surviving the boat journey to South Georgia you will do your best for the rescue of the party.  You are in full command from the time the boat leaves this island, and all hands are under your orders.  On your return to England you are to communicate with the Committee.  I wish you, Lees & Hurley to write the book.  You watch my interests.  In another letter you will find the terms as agreed for lecturing you to do England Great Britain & Continent.  Hurley the U.S.A.  I have every confidence in you and always have had, May God prosper your work and your life.  You can convey my love to my people and say I tried my best.

Yours sincerely

E.H. Shackleton

So, who would you rather be?  Frank Wild staying on Elephant Island, or Ernest Shackleton, sailing to South Georgia?  Both had pretty horrendous duties, did they not?  Consider what Wild was facing:

“Wild’s responsibilities were unenviable.  He was in charge of the care of twenty-one demoralized, partially incapacitated, and perhaps rebellious men, with one man, Blackborow, gravely ill.  The deserted, barren rock on which they would have to live was, as they had slowly come to realize, daily raked by gale-force winds and blizzards.  They had insufficient clothing and no shelter.  They had no source of food or fuel except for penguins and seals, which could not be counted on to be around forever.  They were well beyond all shipping lanes.  If the James Caird was unsuccessful, there was, as Shackleton himself wrote, ‘no chance at all of any search being made…on Elephant Island.’”

(Alexander, 141)

“The island of South Georgia was 800 miles away – more than ten times the distance they had just traveled.  To reach it, a twenty-two-and-a-half-foot long open boat would have to cross the most formidable ocean on the planet, in the winter.  They could expect winds up to 80 miles an hour, and heaving waves – the notorious Cape Horn Rollers –measuring from trough to crest as much as sixty feet in height; if unlucky, they would encounter worse.  They would be navigating towards a small island, with no points of land in between, using a sextant and chronometer – under brooding skies that might not permit a single navigational sighting.  The task was not merely formidable; it was, as every sailing man of the company knew, impossible.” (Alexander, 132)

“Worsley had already distinguished himself as a navigator by landing the three boats safely on Elephant Island.  He had served for several years in the Pacific for the New Zealand Government Steamer Service, where he had become proficient in sailing small boats and navigating for landfalls on small islands.”(Alexander, 134)

“Wild wanted him to stay with him on Elephant Island; Shackleton wanted him in the Caird.  Everyone knew that this tough seaman, who had won the Albert Medal for bravery on Scott’s last expedition, would be an asset to any cause he served.  Crean was perhaps as close as one can come to being indestructible.”(Alexander, 134)

“…had never caused anyone a moment’s trouble, and he was universally liked. Shackleton picked him for no more complicated reasons than that he was an experienced seaman, and that he was built like a bull.”(Lansing, 188)

Shackleton wrote:

“Most of the men were now looking seriously worn and strained. Their lips were cracked and their eyes and eyelids showed red in their salt-encrusted faces…Obviously, we must make land quickly, and I decided to run for Elephant Island.”(Alexander, 124)

Shackleton knew morale needed a boost and so he declared unlimited food would be available. Water, however, was low as they had not been able to take on any from the floes. Shackleton frankly did not think some of the men would survive the next night. The bravery and determination of everyone was incredible:

“Through all the demanding days and all the long and terrible hours of darkness, the helmsmen – Wild and McNeish,  Hudson and Crean, Worsley and Greenstreet – had remained immovable at their posts as waves crashed over them, as their clothes froze upon them, as the wind and spray stung their tired faces.” (Alexander, 125)

At dawn, good news! Worsley’s calculations had proved correct. Elephant Island was only two days away. The strong winds were favorable pushing them forward. The situation was very precarious, however. Alexander describes the circumstances:

“At least half of the party were insane,’ according to Wild, ‘fortunately not violent, simply helpless and hopeless.’ The Stancomb Wills drew abreast of the Caird to report that Hudson had collapsed after seventy-two hours at the helm, and Blackborow reported that ‘there was something wrong’ with his feet. Continual immersion in saltwater had caused the eruption of painful boils on many men; their bodies were badly chafed, and their mouths throbbed with thirst.” (Alexander, 125)

Now, only ten miles from land, a storm broke out!  Worsley had not slept for ninety hours. Finally when persuaded to lie down, he could not do so as he was so stiff form hanging over the tiller. Our man Shackleton was no different. He had not slept since leaving Patience Camp: “’Practically ever since we had first started Sir Ernest had been standing erect day and night on the stern-counter of the Caird,’ Lees wrote. ‘How he stood the incessant vigiland exposure is marvelous.’”(Alexander, 126)

Shackleton was immensely concerned and connected to his men. During this boat journey, the photographer Hurley had lost his mittens. Shackleton noticed and tried to give his own to Hurley. Here’s what Orde-Lees wrote about the exchange:

“At once [he] divested himself of his own, and in spite of the fact that he was standing up in the most exposed position all the while he insisted upon Hurley’s acceptance of the mits, and on the latter’s protesting Sir Ernest was on the point of throwing them overboard rather than wear them when one of his subordinates had to go without; as a consequence Sir Ernest had one finger rather severely frostbitten.”(Perkins, 36)

 

 

Finally, the next morning the three boats escaped the ice pack.  The full force of the wind and the ocean took hold of them:

“Freezing spray burst over them as they tried to beat their way to the NNE under sail.  Time after time, icy blasts whipped them across the face, and the penetrating wind seemed all the colder because of their lack of sleep.” (Lansing, 147)

Storms and snow beleaguered the sailors.  When they left Patience Camp, they believed they were only 39 miles away from Clarence Island.  After two days in the boats carried by the currents, they felt they were near King George Island, 80 miles away.  But, wouldn’t you know it?  On April 12, they sky was clear enough at noon for Worsley to use his sextant and get a reading to determine where they were.  Here’s how it’s described:

“About ten-thirty, Worsley took out his sextant.  Then, bracing against the mast of the Docker, he carefully took his sight – the first since leaving Patience Camp.  At noon he repeated the procedure, as the bots lay to awaiting the result.  Every face was turned toward Worsley as he sat in the bottom of the Docker working out his figures.  They watched to see his expression when the two lines of position were plotted for a fix.  It took him much longer than usually, and gradually a puzzled look came over his face.  He checked his calculations over, and the expression of puzzlement gave way to one of worry.  Once more he ran through his computations; then he slowly raised his head.  Shackleton had brought the Caird alongside the Docker, and Worsley showed him the position – 62-degrees15’ South, 53-degrees7’ West.

“They were 124 miles nearly due east of King George Island and 61 miles southeast of Clarence Island – 22 miles farther from land than when they had launched the boats from Patience Camp three days before! (Lansing, 155)

It was horrible, awful news.  And very disheartening, but what could they do but continue forward?  The new destination was Hope Bay, 130 miles away.

And now, here comes a storm.  The temperature drops to 4 below, and the wind was really blowing.  It was so cold they cold hear the water freezing on their clothes.

“The clothes the men wore, now that they were sitting almost motionless, froze stiff.  Not only were their garments wet from the spray and the snow, they were also worn and saturated with the oil secreted from the men’s own bodies during six months of constant wear.  If a man shifted his position, even slightly, his skin came in contact with a new, unwarmed surface of his clothing.  Everyone tried to sit still, but it could not be done.  The weariness, the lack of food, the exertion, and the worry had weakened them so that the harder they tried to sit still, the more they shivered – and their own shivering kept them awake…” (Lansing, 157)

Lansing describes the events of the first evening:

“Toward eleven o’clock, Shackleton became strangely uneasy, so he dressed and went outside. He noticed that the swell had increased and their floe had swung around so that it was meeting the seas head on. He had stood watching for only a few moments, when there was a deep-throated thud and the floe split beneath his feet – and directly under No. 4 tent in which the eight forecastle hands were sleeping. “Almost instantly the two pieces of the floe drew apart, the tent collapsed and there was a splash. The crewmen scrambled out from under the limp canvas.”

’Somebody’s missing,’ one man shouted. Shackleton rushed forward and began to tear the tent away. In the dark he could hear muffled, gasping noises coming from below. When he finally got the tent out of the way, he was a shapeless form wriggling in the water – a man in his sleeping bag. Shackleton reached out for the bag and with one tremendous heave, he pulled it out of the water. A moment later, the two halves of the broken floe came together with a violent shock. “The man in the sleeping bag turned out to be Ernie Holness, one of the firemen.  He was soaked through but he was alive…” (Lansing, 144-145)

And so, after scouting the rest of the route, with ever increasing pressure ridges, Shackleton decided they would stay put and camp on the large flow they were already on. He had some men and dogs go back to the Endurance and bring the third lifeboat. They were also able to obtain more stores by hacking into the ship. Eventually they obtained three tons of food.

Astonishingly, on Ocean Camp life was almost the same as it had been at “The Ritz.” They spent the days reading, hunting, doing chores, working the dogs, etc. There were five tents. The men had to lie down when sleeping like sardines -unable to move.

–

“…Clark noted that it had ‘all the ingredients of gunpowder.’ Kerr, Rickinson, and Blackborow were mild mannered. But Worsley was erratic and unpredictable, Macklin had a temper, Greenstreet and Orde-Lees tended to get on people’s nerves, and Clark had a constant sniff that drove people crazy. To everyone’s surprise, the men bonded despite occasional tension. Orde-Lees wrote, ‘We really get on wonderfully well considering the way that we are constantly and literally treading upon one another’s toes.” (Morrell, 142)