Deadliest Catch: Five secrets to winning over a tough team

Matt Bradley: problem solver
Matt Bradley: problem solver

The Northwestern has had its share of trouble in Season 10. It almost caught on fire, the steering broke & then half the fresh water was lost due to a leak. The men working 20 hour days doing physical labor were barred from taking showers. Edgar even brushed his teeth using coffee. (“Not half bad!” he opined about the toothpaste/coffee mix.)

But the one hit hardest by this was Matt. Watching how he dealt with his team piling on about his BO was one of the most instructive lessons I’ve ever had in how to deal effectively with a real problem in front of an aggressive group. Watch how he does it.

The classic definition of a Salty Tar

You could almost hear the relish in Mike Rowe’s voice as he called Matt’s aroma a “manly musk”. All the fishermen stunk, but Matt stunk worst. Eating dinner, his crew joked about how badly he smelled. They told him, quite literally, that he smelled like shit. Sadly, Discovery has not yet developed Smello-cam, but based on his reactions and the universal comments of his crew, his fragrance was appalling. But what could he do? The remaining freshwater was needed to run the engines. He wasn’t ALLOWED to take a shower. His work required him to work hard, and in working hard he sweated. He had no options for fixing the problem, and so he just grinned back and kept working.

But on deck, the situation got worse. The men of the Northwestern are not ones to delicately pass by the opportunity to discuss your aromatic characteristics in case your feelings get hurt. Every time he walked by they’d tell him how awful he smelled. They left him alone on the crab sorting table with a “crabalanche” in front of him because (they said) he smelled so bad. At one point a look crossed his face as he realized: this was not going away, and this was not going to get better.

Matt stalked off the deck.

Now, Matt has a temper. We’ve seen fistfights before. We’ve also seen our fair share of greenhorns running up to the captain complaining that the crew is not treating them right. (This is often true. See also: poor Myles on the Cape Caution). I wondered what he would do: take a forbidden shower? Show them how much less fun it is to work on a deck one seasoned hand down? Douse himself in cologne? Tell the captain that they need to lay off him, that it’s not his fault? Wipe his body down with a damp towel and hope it improves things enough to stop all the teasing?

He comes back onto the deck, stripped down. He takes off his shirt as he walks to the middle, leaving boxers and his wellingtons. (Still can’t figure out why he left his boots on!) Then, he jumps in the crab tank. In January. On the Bering Sea. In sub-freezing temperatures. In front of all his crewmates. He stayed in long enough to get totally wet, making a huge show of scrubbing his armpits with a bar of soap. As he comes out, his “friends” aim the saltwater hose at him to help him rinse off.

But once that’s done, his teammates thank him for fixing the issue and all the teasing stops.

I’ve never actually seen someone effectively counter that kind of personal, embarrassing, destructive abuse before. And Matt, with his tank-dunking technique, not only completely countered it, he used it as a way to make himself closer and more respected by the very jerks who were tormenting him.

I thought a lot about that last night, and I think I’ve isolated some of the elements that made this most effective.

1) He didn’t deny there was a problem
Matt didn’t try to deflect the issue at all. He owned it. “What day is it? I can say I haven’t taken a shower all year!” He didn’t diminish the concerns of his team, he didn’t remind them they smelled bad too, and he didn’t trot out the excuses for his stench. He just moved on.

2) He correctly judged the point of no return
He didn’t fall all over himself to fix the issue until it was clear that it wouldn’t resolve, and was escalating. He didn’t escalate the issue himself (see also: decking the other guys), but he didn’t start panicking at the first joke about his olfactory objections. He waited until the issue was clear & quantified.

3) He thought “outside the box”
Matt’s solution never crossed my mind. It probably didn’t cross his teammates, either. There was a solution to his problem (which did require great personal sacrifice). He was clearly thinking about it, instead of getting mad or feeling trapped. None of this would be possible without his problem solving creativity.

4) He fixed the problem obviously, and in public
If it had been me, I would have been hiding in my bunk trying to fix the smell. But Matt was smart enough to know it wasn’t just about the smell, it was about the reputation of smell. Even if he’d snuck in a surreptitious shower and fixed the actual issue, I bet he wouldn’t have gotten much credit for it. They either would have continued to tease him about his (now non-existent) smell, or made fun of him for caring that much. Making his ablutions in front of the entire crew was the ONLY way that he could permanently put this issue to bed. It is KEY that Matt did this in front of everyone – with a smile. Not only that, but Matt enhanced his reputation for toughness (a key on the Bering Sea) while erasing his reputation for stench. An illicit shower would have been more thorough, but it would have been massively less effective.

5) He engaged his critics in the fix
It may not have been part of his original plan, but when the guys turned the seawater hose on him, they were buying into his solution. He didn’t duck the stream, or get pissed. He took just long enough in the stream to make the other deck hands feel like he accepted their addition to his solution. As he walked off the deck (freezing cold, holy cow) his teammates were thanking him for solving the problem, grinning and clapping him on the back.

Matt managed to take a really uncomfortable situation of being ostracized and humiliated for his unavoidable odor, and turn it into a way to bond more deeply with his team and enhance his reputation. I was deeply impressed.

Now, I don’t work crab boats on the Bering Sea, and I’m unlikely to be in the exact same pickle. But I have never been able to figure out how to handle situations where you’re coming under fire for a deeply personal problem with no clear resolution. Matt just gave a masterclass in doing just that.

Fifteen minutes of internet fame

About two weeks ago, I sat down and wrote the blog post that was rattling around in my brain about the Discovery Show Deadliest Catch. It took a little longer than my average blog post to write (I mean… I had to do RESEARCH! And PROOFREAD! The horrors!) I clicked publish with a sense of satisfaction and moved on with my life.

Then, the next day, this happened:

Best Blog Day Ever: My post got retweeted by one of the Deadliest Catch Captains
Best Blog Day Ever: My post got retweeted by one of the Deadliest Catch Captains

There was squeeing on my part. I called my sister. Then I watched the traffic grow. Before the day was over, I’d hit 355 hits – over 100 more than my best day ever. I settled, self-satisfied, into a good night’s sleep.

The next day, traffic was tailing off. That’s the way it normally goes: I write a post, everyone who reads me comes to read it, it fades away. I enjoyed my good day. I went home. Being a 21st century mom, I checked my email while dinner sizzled on the stove. I noticed I had a comment on my post! Nice! Wait, 2 comments! Three! Um, sixteen? I only get about one comment per 100 views, and if that held steady… uh, hold on, gotta go check my stats.

Holy cow!
Holy cow!

And it was off! I got 37 comments, 10,000 hits (10% of my overall total, and I started this blog in 2008), and tons of views. It got picked up and passed on and retweeted. After long thought, I broke my own personal “fourth wall” and sent it to the content manager for my company blog, where the article was reposted. It came to the attention of my management, and they were very nice about it. (Which says more about how nice my management is than anything else!) I also got approached by the staff of the Cornelia Marie blog (which was responsible for a ton of the traffic) asking to republish the article.

That made me stop to think. Did it support my goals to have my writing rebroadcast on another site? Ummmm, what were my goals again? It’s a worthwhile question. I don’t have any sponsorship (I’ve never even got hit-up by those folks who court mommybloggers.) I don’t think I really want any sponsorship (a stance that might be challenged by someone actually offering sponsorship). I don’t really want to be a famous or professional blogger. I’m not nearly funny enough (I’m both autobiographical and sentimental). I dislike controversy and fighting, which are staples of the modern internet.

So why do I write, to the tune of about 80 posts a year on this blog alone? Well, you know how successful authors – when asked how to write – often say that they write because not writing is not an option? It turns out that can be true for rather more modestly successful writers. It’s important to my mental state to write.

In addition to providing an outlet for me, this blog plays other roles. It’s how I tell my family what is going on in my life. It is a bit of a family history, where I record the important things that happen (or at least, non-embarrassing important things) in the life of my family. I capture story-snapshots of what it is to be me at a given point. I also have a chance to articulate and make more real some of the ephemeral moments and thoughts that flit across my mind. For some of my readers, my blog creates a relationship. I met a mom at Chuck E Cheese at Grey’s birthday, who recognized me because she reads my blog. It keeps me closer to people I care about.

And – I’ll admit – I’ve always hoped that some of my writing would “go viral”. And that’s just what happened. Now, I’m a sophisticated enough internetian to know that writing popularity is so often a double-edged sword, with high readership accompanied by nasty comments. But the Deadliest Catch readership appears to be entirely populated by nice, positive people (based on the feedback I got).

So what’s my thesis? Just that… man! That rocked! It was totally fun! I got all the upside I dream of in my happier writing moments, and none of the downside that so often accompanies internet fame. So unless the Discovery Channel picks up the post and it goes onto one other wave of fame, it’s likely over and time to move on with narrating my exhilarating life of jam, football and kids. But boy, was that fun!

WordPress does a nice job of providing statistics and analysis on their blogs (secret: every blogger I know watches their statistics with a hawk-like eye). Their year-end analysis of my blog didn’t seem particularly insightful this year, so I didn’t share it at the time, but it seems like a relevant baseline to this post. I still find it highly ironic that one of my top search terms is “today sucks” since – in general – I feel like I write pretty positive and cheerful stuff!

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

4,329 films were submitted to the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. This blog had 18,000 views in 2012. If each view were a film, this blog would power 4 Film Festivals

Click here to see the complete report.

Leadership Secrets of Deadliest Catch

Time Bandit in heavy seas

I am one of millions of Americans who love the Discovery Channel show Deadliest Catch. For those of you who are not familiar with it, it’s a show about Bering Sea Crab fishermen. It follows five boats over two fishing seasons a year (King Crab and Opies). It is a show about a grueling, heart-breaking, back-breaking, fraught and dangerous life perched on the icy deck of a lonely boat on the southern edges of the arctic.

On my bad days, I watch it to remind myself of how good I have it. Most of the time, though, I watch it to keep me company while I do the laundry. I did about 5 hours of laundry in the last four days, and finished up through season 7. Now, I work in software. You can hardly get farther from the Bering Sea than my comfy cube in Boston’s “Innovation District”. But I still think there are some true leadership secrets buried in the ice up there.

1) Find your Freddie and keep him forever

Freddie Maughtai of the FV Cornelia Marie (now on the Wizard)

Every group of people wishes they had a Freddie. He’s always early on deck. Once there, he moves with quickness, alacrity and skill. I’ve never seen him slip and fall, and I’ve never seen him dawdle. He knows his job, and he does it well. Just that much makes Freddie a good deck hand (and anyone who’s watched the show knows that being a good deck hand is really hard to do.) What makes Freddie a great deck hand is what he does for morale. He never complains, at all. He rarely makes a negative comment, even when it’s blowing ice and -10 degrees and he hasn’t slept in 23 hours. But best of all, he can and does turn the morale of an entire boat. Freddie never talks about *bad* luck, but after hauling a string of empty crab pots, he’ll pull out the ol’ clippers and give everyone a good-luck mohawk, or smear his face with cod blood (he’s Samoan) and convince the whole crew that the next string is going to be better. Most of the time it even works. Freddie not only is the best, he brings the best out in others.

Freddie was also a byword for loyalty… right up until he could no longer afford to stay on the Cornelia Marie. Even with his huge heart and deep love for the Harris family, he still needed to make a rational decision to earn more money on the Wizard. And of course, with his tremendous skills, practically every boat on the Bering Sea was open to him.

Leader Lesson: If you find a person who is not only great themselves, but makes the others around them work harder and better, consider them one of your greatest assets – and treat them like it. Make sure you never stomp on their optimism or cheer. Make sure you give them enough latitude to work their wonders. And make sure you never pit their loyalty to you against their good sense.

Worker Lesson: The difference between good and great isn’t how much you can accomplish. You can’t be great unless your team works better because of your participation in it. That means less whining, less following negative energy trends, and less doing-what-everyone else does. Instead, try to change the tenor of a negative team to be more positive (even if that means giving yourself a mohawk), and try to build on the energy of a positive team. Of course, none of that counts for squat if you can’t get the basics of your own job done.

2) Buy fireworks ahead of time

Fireworks for Captain Phil
Fireworks for Captain Phil

In the Season 7 finale, the boys on the Time Bandit are coming into Dutch Harbor flush with victory – their ship totally crammed with fine-looking crabs. After they got Captain Sig Hanson “good” earlier (in a prank that involved having imported Chinese lanterns and sending them out over sea and turning out their lights – scaring the pants off our favorite wily Norwegian), Sig ambushed the boys with fireworks. (I must say, it’s kind of fun to watch people do something downright dangerous and inadvisable and not be told even once not to try this at home.) The Time Bandit returned fire. After a bit, both ships turned their fireworks skyward for an amazing display of pyrotechnics outside of Dutch Harbor.

Now, you could say this was a waste of money. Fireworks are expensive. And if the ship wasn’t full, what was there to celebrate? And if the ship was full, then surely just giving the guys wads of cash was enough celebration, right? But no. The very best of the fishing vessels on the Bering PLAN TO CELEBRATE SUCCESS. They buy those fireworks and bring them to the edge of Alaska at no small expense. The chance to earn tens of thousands of dollars are the reason that those fishermen work through injury, pain, cold, danger and sea-cooking… but adding a joyful celebration of success makes it about more than just the money. It creates a sense of pride, of joy, of celebration and of cameraderie that sets a boat apart. It makes the crew not folks employed in the fishing industry, but fishermen.

Leader Lesson: If you want your crew to treat their job as more than a financial transaction for cash, then don’t just reward your crew with cash. Plan on celebrating their successes in ways that are exhilarating, communal and right as they cross a finish line. If you can work in a method of celebration that would not be possible anywhere else in the world, it’s a bonus.

Worker Lesson: Life is much more rewarding when you work for a company that sees the works you are all engaged in as more than a financial transaction. Of course it is that (See Freddie above), but you spend too much of your life there to put up with a workplace that only has a paycheck to offer.

3) Pick a good captain

Captain Phil, the Hillstrand Brothers and Captain Sig Hanson

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the captains in Deadliest Catch. I think half of America still misses Phil Harris – his earthly, twinkle-in-the-eye wisdom, kindness, temper and vices. Sig Hanson is a manipulative, masochistic jerk… who still keeps his crew safe and his tanks stacked. Keith of the Wizard is a good Captain with good intentions, a gigantic chip on his shoulder and a completely out-of-control temper who gets his crew a full year’s salary in two months work. The Hillstrand brothers share a wheelhouse (although only one of them is ever captain in a particular season). There are a bevy of others: Wild Bill, Elliot…

And I’ve thought a lot about who I would want to work for, in the completely impossible outcome that I was forced to fish the Bering Sea.

Again – there’s that difference between sheer moolah and what it means to work. Those top captains will bring home similar paydays, between $30 and $70k for a fishing season. But if you work for Sig, you can expect to “grind” (work exceptionally long hours), be belittled and mocked, and to fear the anger of the captain. Although he offers a great payday, I don’t think I could handle working for Sig. (In the unlikely event that, you know, I could hack the other parts of the fishing.) Keith would drive me crazy – he’s too mercurial.

If I had to pick a boat, I would definitely pick the Time Bandit. In addition to being excellent fishermen who consistently earn greaty paydays for their crew, the Hillstrand brothers are smart about risking their crew’s well-being. They have a gift for morale, too. In situations where the other captains would explode at their crews, with yelling and puffing and pulling rank… the Hillstrand brothers will pull a prank or a joke that works 1000 times better. There’s nothing like throwing a string of firecrackers on deck to wake up a lethargic crew! They also do a great of job of celebrating their ship and their crew. And having two of them means that they have a backup plan and make better decisions.

Leader Lesson: It’s not JUST about the outcomes you create, it’s also about the experience your team has in their work. Given the same money, most people would rather work for a reasonable boss who solves problems in ways other than yelling.

4) Bring passion

The would-be captain

No one who has watched the show for more than an episode could doubt one thing: Jake Anderson has a fire in his belly to become a fisherman, and to some day captain his own boat. From the first episode, while he was still a greenhorn, he was angling to be driving the boat. He’s worked his rear end off every single episode to attempt to earn that right. His relations got him ON the boat, but he has no capital, no inheritance, no education…. nothing that would ever get him into that captain’s chair other than his own burning passion.

I believe that Jake will make it someday for one primary reason: he wants it so badly, and so clearly. He asks Sig practically every episode to push him further, to show him more, to teach him. He asked for the difficult task of steering a multi-million dollar boat into St. Paul Harbor, risking not just the ship but the lives of those on board if he messes up. How many of us would be brave enough to ask to do that? And Sig, after about 8 rethinks, lets him. And he does a fine job: showing himself as material for that chair eventually. Sig gets him up after only 2 hours sleep following a 30 hour shift. Instead of complaining bitterly (which is what I would do), Jake says happily, “It says a lot, that he thought of me.” If your bosses know how badly you want it, that helps. If you keep volunteering to do hard things in pursuit of a goal, that helps more. If you don’t complain about the hard work it takes to get your goal, that helps most.

Of course, it also helps that Jake knows so clearly what he wants.

Leader Lesson: If you have someone who brings this kind of passion to mastering their business, adopt them and make them like your own child. Give them hard tasks (but ones they can accomplish). And promote them for their excellence.

Worker Lesson: Figure out what it is you want. Let your bosses know what that thing is. Remind them regularly. Ask to do the things that role will require. Get any certifications you would require. And be persistent. When you do finally get the chance – even if it’s at 2 am after a 30 hour shift – feel proud. Don’t complain.

This is probably the one I have the most work to do on.

Edit: In case you’re waiting with bated breath, the 2013 Deadliest Catch season starts April 16th, 2013 – Tuesdays, 9 p.m. ET on the Discovery Channel. Put it on your calendar!

This post brought to you by Deadliest Catch

I don’t watch much tv. I have never seen an episode of Friends, Dr. Who, or Glee. Frankly, if it weren’t for baseball, I’d be more or less ok getting no cable whatsoever. (But there is baseball. Do not underestimate baseball.) But on Saturday, a friend came to stay with me while my husband was away with our friends on the Cape. One thing lead to another, and we spent most of the evening watching Deadliest Catch. I have to admit, I love this show. On bad days, it makes me insanely grateful for a desk job with benefits and a practically 0 chance of having 32 degree Bering Sea water dumped on my head. On other days, I reflect on the ties back to a former age. Interspersed with sonar readings and hydraulic cranes are age-old superstitions and an environment where men teach each other to be men in the oldest ways — as men have in the ruggedest environments since they first plied the waters. It’s an interesting environment for a feminist to see. I can tell you this much: I couldn’t hack it. I’m pretty sure that after 20 hours of backbreaking labor I’d be in tears and handing in my resignation.

Thane loves the park. It has the BEST garbage!
Thane loves the park. It has the BEST garbage!

I figured that as long as he didn’t go around preschool saying, “What the *beep* took you so *beeping* long to *beep* bring me my *beeping* Legos?” this was a pretty good show to watch. The only violence is against crabs. And there’s a truth to it. Of course, now he says he wants to be a fisherman because “It looks like fun.” Clearly he’s not paying attention.

Since I complain plenty when the boys are hard to handle, in fairness I should tell you that they’ve been just amazingly lately. Thane has stopped clinging to my leg like a screeching limpet while I make dinner. Now he’ll play with cars (he LOVES lining them up on a table, taking them down, and lining them up again). He has this Spongebob figure he’s extremely fond of. He, like his brother before him, calls the little yellow guy “Bob-bob”. He’s talking up a storm. He’s extremely interested in whatever his brother is doing. One of his most frequent words is “Gwey”. He’s also recently become obsessed with apples. Normal people will eat a great apple down to the core. With Thane, if he’s hungry, he’ll eat the entire apple. As in, there are no remnants of the apple left when he’s done. Apple is also one of his clearest words. At the height of apple-mania, I believe my 25 pound son (or so) ate about 5 apples in one day. There was a dinner where the boys collectively turned their noses up at pizza and preferred to eat apples instead. I confess that one left me not knowing how to feel. On the one hand, children should eat their dinner. On the other hand, apples are likely much better nutritionally than pizza.

Project “Teach Thane To Walk” has been going extremely well. Thane will now walk considerable distances holding a hand. The other day, he walked all the way down the block with me. This may not sound astonishing, but he has little legs and strong opinions. For him to nicely walk such a distance past so many distractions is real progress. Grey is quite a walker. My friend who spent Saturday brought her pedometer. We walked 3.7 miles that day. Grey walked all of it with us, and with the running around and jumping, much likely significantly more. I look forward to the day when all four of us can walk through the woods together (and not stop every 3 feet for a snack).

Grey has been super and fun and a delight (with one or two exceptions). I’m continually stunned by how USEFUL and HELPFUL he is, and how we can DO things with him. For example, we played several games of “Kids of Carcasonne” and he followed the rules and played correctly. He was also compassionate towards his parents (possibly not getting the idea of a game) and helped us complete our roads. He’s really, truly, honestly reading. I asked him to read a book to my friend, and he read through the entire thing with one mistake. He said “not” when the word was “never”. And it wasn’t a book he knew by heart — he was really reading it. (The book in question is Today I Will Fly). He is superb with Thane… most of the time. It’s a joy to watch him run and jump and play and make friends. And he’s very loving towards me. He’s also really sensitive. The other night he said he was scared. As I carried him to his room, I was talking about all the reasons he should be happy and ended with “And all’s right with the world.” He replied, “No, it’s not. There was that earthquake, and all the people got hurt.” He’s right, of course. All is right in his small world, but not the larger world. I was struck by his awareness that just because everything is good for him, doesn’t mean everything is good.

Little boy blue
Little boy blue

Monday is Patriot’s Day. It’s a state holiday. While theoretically it’s about some historic thingamajig, in reality it’s a day when Boston shuts down to watch some baseball and then watch the Boston marathon come through. There are some battle recreations in the morning, too, I believe. I have to work, but the boys’ new preschool is closed for the day. So I called Abuela tonight to ask if she’d be willing to take the boys. You know, she sounded really, really happy to hear from me. She really wanted to hear how the boys were doing. She said she really missed them – and I believe her. I’m caught between feeling great and feeling sad. Feeling great because it was such a great relationship for so long. And of course, feeling sad because I don’t see how that relationship can be well continued (although I have suspicions that if the Y takes Patriot’s Day off, they probably take all the other holidays off that I don’t get).

I hope that all is as well and joyful with you out there as it is for us!