Like the much of the rest of our world, I watched with rapt, horrified attention the six-day saga of the Ever Given—that 1,300 foot long trade ship wedged diagonally in the Suez Canal. While I’m glad of course the Ever Given was freed, the image of that massive freighter mired hopelessly in the silt has stuck with me.

Staying home through much of the pandemic has made it feel like my ship is similarly stuck in the mud, wedged up against the sides of a passageway which seem too small to get through. The truth is that almost every “ship” I have launched (i.e., business, enterprise, idea) seems to get itself stuck in the mud at some point. During those times, it’s natural to wonder if it was a good idea to set sail at all.

I could go on with my metaphors about the Ever Given, but you get the idea.  While I have been stuck at home due to the pandemic, not able to travel, and in an environment where it has been difficult to launch anything at all, I have been thinking a lot about “setting sail.” That is, thinking about what it’s like to start something, to again be underway, to spark the spark which lights the fire, to feel the wind in my sails. I have initiated all kinds of things in my life, but much of my perspective on “starting” has to do with business startups. 

While I have had the good fortune to launch several startups over the years, such as Loosbrock World Trade in the 1980s, Lynxs Group in the 1990s and recently in funding over 20 early-stage companies through my Seed/Pod Investments company, I am amazed how different each start up is, no matter how much I want them to be similar to the last one. As the old saying goes, “If you have seen one startup... you have seen one startup.” 

Nevertheless, it is possible to glean a few nuggets of wisdom from each to be tucked away in one’s pocket as a touchstone for the next. This essay contains a few of those nuggets, and while it remains to be seen if they are golden or fool’s gold, either way they can still be touchstones for the next time. 

Starting anything takes equal amounts of naivete and courage. Naivete, because you never really know exactly what you are getting into. Courage, because no matter how good things look on paper, you can always find dozens of reasons to wait, research it more, gain greater visibility, wait for the thunderclouds to pass. So, if you are looking for excuses not to embark, they are always easy to find. Every time. There is no perfect time to start anything, or at least it will not seem that way until you have the pleasure of retrospection. It's more likely that you will launch without full visibility of what you are getting into and must adjust as you go. 

This is where the courage matches up well with the naivete. The seas may be calm when you leave the port, but it’s near certain that you will encounter heavy weather between your departure and your destination. So you launch, and you sail out into whatever awaits your ideas, planning, and efforts.

The launch of Scymaris, the UK-based marine eco-toxicology contract testing lab which Tim Derrington and I founded in 2016, is just such a story. Scymaris was a unique opportunity to re-open one of the most esteemed marine eco-toxicology labs in the world. Located in Brixham, Devon, England, it had been recently decommissioned by Astra Zeneca as part of their efforts to refocus in a more specific group of businesses which did not include this sort of testing lab. Thus, Tim and I had the opportunity to acquire this site and restart an updated version of the Astra Zeneca testing efforts—we became a third-party contract-testing lab providing extremely advanced scientific analysis of all sorts of substances, such as pharmaceuticals, industrial and agricultural chemicals, and the link to determine their effects on marine life. Since certification of these substances for commercial use requires this kind of testing, our services act as an important part of both research and development of a wide variety of new products and helps to insure that these products do not have a damaging effect on our seas or the plants and animals which live in them.

 For me, Scymaris was a brand-new business in a foreign country, founded just as Brexit was heating up, in a field I knew little-to-nothing about. Launch conditions such as these are not usually recommended. However, sometimes thunder in the distance does not necessarily mean that the storm will pass over you. 

There is an old Chinese proverb that translates to something like “loud thunder, but only tiny drops of rain.” In other words, lots of noise with no real consequence. Global events like those spawned by Brexit over the past five years can indeed sink ships. But at other times, you may encounter conditions of “much thunder, no rain.”  There was definitely plenty of thunder and clouds on our horizon during the founding of Scymaris in the summer of 2016, but fortunately they did not create a storm which might have swamped us. We made the correct decision to “take ‘er out to sea.” While decisions to launch under these sorts of conditions are not always positive, they certainly can be sometimes. Starting always feels a bit risky, and it is, but that does not mean you shouldn’t embark.  

How did we do, and what have I learned from all of this? 

To start with, it’s now almost five years later and we are still afloat. Much of our success so far can be attributed to the sound idea of this lab, a robust market for our services, and most especially to the good, old fashioned hard work of everyone at Scymaris. We are doing well because of you. 

So, the question becomes: how much of one’s business strategy should be based on macro-trends like Brexit? I have always thought that the landscape of opportunity is “lumpy.” It is possible to find good deals and execute profitably in most economic conditions, if only you can find the right deals in the right place for the right price. 

In one of my previous essays, “Macro is for chumps,” I took a look at our tendency to apply high level (macro) analysis to determine the efficacy of business deals and other sorts of projects. I tried to make the argument that we should also endeavor to look for opportunities at the micro level as well. The challenge for Scymaris, or any other business launching during any situation such as Brexit, or the COVID-19 pandemic , was to ensure that the fundamentals of the business were sound and the unique sales proposition of the business remained compelling through multiple macro outcomes. In other words, try to concentrate on the “micro” at least as much as the macro. 

If the last few years have taught us anything, it’s that predicting the future is risky business. The global pandemic has amplified this even further.  Therefore, a lesson learned is that no matter how much you predict and plan for the future, you must make sure your boat is seaworthy and prepare to get a little wet if necessary. 

I am surprised how resilient everything has been. If you had told me five years ago  in 2016 that Scymaris would have had to endure unprecedented and unforeseen conditions wrought by global circumstances during that period, I would have excused myself from the investment. The challenges of these last five years have not been a matter of “loud thunder and little rain,” but more of a “loud thunder, heavy rain.” 

Yet we are still afloat, and even picking up steam. Most of my early stage company investments have been affected by the pandemic, with its economic fallout and tragic human toll. Many of our ships have taken on water, and a few looked like they were starting to fail, but surprisingly, none have been totally swamped , sunk or even stuck too long in the mud, like the Ever Given. This is indeed unexpected, but gratefully welcomed. 

The dark storm clouds of 2016 have dissipated, only to be replaced by a new wall of threatening thunderheads and the hurricane force gales of the global pandemic’s extreme disruptions. Someday, hopefully soon, these clouds too will dissipate, only to be replaced by new clouds and new challenges not yet visible on our horizon. If you wish to begin something, the time is now, as it ever was; You discover, you scheme, you launch, and you sail on until the clearing skies make it safe to come up onto deck again.