You're listening to the decidedly podcast with Sanger Smith and Sean Smith. Our mission is to help business owners like you defeat bad decision-making so you can improve your health, wealth, and relationships. We do this by digging deep into the stories and expertise of our guests and distilling their knowledge into actionable wisdom. If you're new, hit Subscribe, and head to YouTube for the full video. Now let's get into this week's episode and defeat bad decision-making in your life and business.
When I first started my career, I was really poor. Right after college you don't have much money and are figuring out adulthood. I made things extreme: I never left anything plugged in, kept blinds down to save on AC, and ate exclusively ramen noodles. My grandmother gave me an exotic pack of ramen for Christmas because she thought I loved it. Now I don't trust anyone who hasn't been forced to eat ramen.
Speaking of ramen, our guest today definitely struggled through that phase in a much more extreme way. Suzanne Heywood has an amazing story. At seven, her family set out to sail the world for what became a ten-year journey on a boat. She escaped, went to Oxford, got a PhD from Cambridge, worked in the UK Treasury, became a McKinsey consultant, and now is COO of Exor. Her story is one of breaking free from isolation and building a life of significance. If you feel trapped, this podcast is for you. I'm Sanger, and this is decidedly.
Suzanne, I used to think my family is crazy, but yours really earns that label. You set out to sail around the world when you were seven. Did you have any questions about the wisdom of it, or were you immediately up for it?
My father announced it when I was six. My questions were: how long will we be away, and what can I take? I could only take my teddy bear and favorite dress, leaving behind my doll's house and my dog Rusty. My father said it would be a three-year adventure, we'd see places no one else had, then come back to normal life. It was compelling.
Okay, somewhat compelling. I'd be worried about Santa visiting the boat. How does that work?
We asked that question. The answer was Santa would tie his sleigh to the mast and come down. At the start I was enthusiastic—I hero-worshipped my father and trusted him completely. I worried about leaving things but didn't push back.
How much of this do you think your mom was aware of at that time?
She knew the Captain Cook narrative and my father's passion. She probably saw he loved the media. But she was incredibly close to him and never doubted she'd go, even though she got terribly seasick and hated sailing. Every time we left port she'd retreat to her bunk for days. That's a huge sacrifice.
Yeah, especially when it's weeks before you get back on land.
Absolutely. We sailed from England to South America, six to seven weeks at sea. No communication, surviving storms, running short of food. By arrival we had no fresh food and almost no canned supplies.
How do you pack for seven people for seven weeks? That's a lot of food.
The boat, Wave Walker, was 69 feet long and narrow. It heeled over, so we lived tilted. After weeks at sea, land felt like it was swaying. In Rio we couldn't cross the road because we'd lost our ability to judge traffic speed.
What about the crew? How well did you know them?
Not well. The crew kept changing. Friends who were supposed to go all the way pulled out because it was dangerous. We were sailing the wrong way around the world, which meant going far south. We lost the compass on the way to South Africa but found a small plastic one. The most dangerous leg was South Africa to Australia. We were hit by a 90-foot wave that smashed through the boat. I fractured my skull, broke my nose. We found a tiny island with a French military base; a doctor operated on me without anesthetic. That's when I realized this wasn't a fun adventure but a dangerous undertaking.
That had to be incredibly painful.
Yes. I wrote a chapter called The Wave. Another author said I wrote it like I have PTSD. I had to break through and describe being a little girl thrown around, not in control. It changed my entire perspective.
You seem incredibly aware at seven. How much were you aware of versus found out later? Were your parents protecting you?
They had a deliberate narrative. They gave me filtered information. We were banned from discussing the wave or any problems because it upset my mother. As an adult, I used my mother's diary, my father's Reader's Digest article, and his book to piece it together. As a child, I had no access.
No childhood can be understood without adult context. What strikes me is the lack of normal experiences. Did you have toys? Could you play?
Not many. We had stuffed animals, but most washed away when we were shipwrecked. Only my small teddy bear survived. In Australia, a kind man from a toy factory gave us new ones. But as I got older, the lack of friends became unbearable. I worked cooking and cleaning with my mother. We took paying crew, and my job was to work. I was desperate for school and friendships. I read every book I could. In Hawaii, I watched Cosmos on a tiny TV and it opened up a world of knowledge. I realized education could be my escape from the boat, which was like a prison.
Originally it was a three-year journey. When did you realize it wouldn't be?
In Hawaii, age 11 or 12, we had a family vote. The voyage was supposed to end there. My brother and I voted to go home; my parents voted to keep sailing. My father announced it was a split vote and he, as captain, got the deciding vote. We kept sailing. From then on, I knew I was trapped.
What was your relationship with your mother and father like, and how did it change?
I was closer to my father. My mother wasn't warm. After age 11 or 12, she became worse, calling me names and banishing me. Sometimes she wouldn't speak to me directly for weeks. That's hard in a confined space. With my father, it was warmer but conditional. This was his voyage, and he would do it his way.
So when the vote happens, you're how old? 13?
And so at that point, you were originally going to go through the Panama Canal back to England, but instead you turned around and went east through...
The Panama Canal we go west and sail all the way back down the Pacific to Australia and it becomes apparent to me that my father has no intention of ever finishing this voyage; he's just going to keep on sailing. He fell in love with the idea of being the captain of a boat, taking crew on board to earn money. I was cooking and cleaning with my mother to support that. I eventually managed to convince my parents to let me enroll in a correspondence course. By this point I'm about 14 or 15, trying to teach myself, but it's very difficult on the boat because there's only one small table and most of the time I'm not allowed to use it. My relationship with my mother is quite bad, so I'm trying to hide from her. Also, with correspondence you need a post office, and it was always unclear when we would get to one or go to another. I was trying to work in the scraps of time that I had at sea.
How do you receive correspondence when you're on the boat?
