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October 08, 2024 2 Comments
After spending two and a half years away from home, I was finally in familiar waters again. The only thing on my mind was home and the welcome party waiting there for me.
But even though I was preoccupied — and I was in waters I had been in thousands of times before — those two and a half years had hammered into me the importance of diligence. Instead of relying on my electronic equipment, I got a fix and plotted my position on a physical chart, like always.
That’s when the storm hit.
It wasn’t just a passing shower. It was a violent storm that caused a severe whiteout. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face, but I could hear blaring alarms and smell burning wires.
Lightning had struck my catamaran, frying $100,000 worth of electronic equipment.
So there I was, just three hours away from my home and family, blindly navigating a tremendous storm with a traditional compass and chart. I thought, “How did I get here?”
I grew up on the water but didn’t fall in love with sailing until later in life. It was 1998, and I had just sold my company for a tidy sum. I believed I’d never have to work again, so I was busy relaxing.
One day, I was in Martha’s Vineyard and struck up a conversation with a nice man named Jim. After chatting for a while, I stepped away for a moment. Someone approached me and asked if I knew that I was talking to Rock & Roll Hall of Famer James Taylor!
I couldn’t believe it. The last time I saw James Taylor, he looked nothing like the man I was talking to. So, when I got back, I asked him if he was really the famous singer.
When he confirmed, I assured him I’d had no idea, and that wasn’t why I was talking to him. He laughed and said, “Why do you think I’m still speaking with you?”
We continued our conversation. He told me his brother had a catamaran and invited me out on it. I happily agreed.
I didn’t like that catamaran, but I fell in love with the idea of sailing around the world. The wind, the stars, and the moon all called to me. After selling my company, I had nothing but time, so I dove into research. Then, I had a boat built for me in France to start my voyage.
Before I set out on my trip sailing around the world, I took a weekend navigation course. I didn’t want to be reckless. But, since I had ample experience, I figured most of the trip would be “smooth sailing.”
But my knowledge was local, not worldly. I essentially learned how to sail while journeying around the world, and I faced many obstacles during my years on the water that I wasn’t prepared for.
Have you ever been in the spin cycle of a washing machine? I had a close enough experience when I found myself in 30-foot seas. I remember dipping into the trough of a wave one night and seeing nothing but gray around me. The ocean seemed to reach higher than my 65-foot mast. And the more fatigued I became as I struggled to stay alive in those dangerous waters, the more difficult it became to navigate.
When the sun rose, I almost wanted to put on a blindfold. At least at night, I couldn’t see how bad the water was. During the day, I could only repeat to myself that no matter where I was in the ocean, land was never much more than a mile away (even if it was straight down).
Not every challenge was so dramatic. For example, learning how to safely anchor my boat in different water depths, tides, and currents took a few tough experiences, such as waking up surrounded by a pile of rocks at low tide. I eventually got the hang of it.
Figuring out different docking configurations and mooring styles around the world was another lesson I learned through experience. I also had a ton of close calls because of regional differences in navigation aids.
My weekend navigation course didn’t fully prepare me for sailing around the world. I was ready for charts with different units of measurement, but in the far reaches, not many places have reliable charts at all. Frequent storms can completely change an area’s geographic makeup. I had to learn to read the water well to navigate safely.
I overcame every challenge on my two-and-a-half-year journey, and when I found myself in that lightning storm so close to home, I was prepared. My equipment was fried, and I couldn’t see an inch in front of my nose, but I didn’t panic.
I simply navigated the way I knew how to. When the storm blew over, I saw 40 or 50 boats up on the rocks and run aground just a few hundred feet away from where I was sailing. I knew it wasn’t luck that got me through that storm.
Cruising the world taught me that no matter how much you think you know, you’ll still have gaps in your knowledge. Although experience is key to filling those gaps, a solid educational foundation allows you to gain that valuable experience.
When I finally got home in 2001, I remembered one of the last things my mom wrote to me before passing from breast cancer: follow your dreams and earn your captain’s license. I finally decided to take a course and get my Master captain’s license.
School was never kind to me — I dropped out at 16 — so I was nervous about getting my license because I knew it would require some schooling. But I learned of a school with a good reputation and decided to try it out.
When I got there, I found I was right to be skeptical. For the most part, all they did was tell me the answers to the Coast Guard’s licensing test. I didn’t want the right answers; I wanted knowledge. But every time I raised my hand to ask a question, my instructor basically told me to shut up, sit down, and memorize more answers. Then, between lectures, he went to the bar downstairs to do shots with the students!
When test day finally came, I met my instructor for the last time. He told me the exam would be $95. I was shocked. “But I already paid for the course,” I told him. “That should include the test.”
“No,” he said. “It’s two separate fees.”
I was already anxious about passing. Everyone knew me as a success in the business world — they certainly didn’t know I was a high school dropout. I didn’t want anyone to see me as a failure. I was too freaked out to argue further about the cost, so I tracked down an ATM and returned with a $100 bill.
My instructor told me he didn’t have change and stuck the bill in his shirt pocket.
I already felt like the victim of a bait and switch. That gesture was the last straw. I decided that, after acing this test, I would open my own captain’s license school and do things right.
When I started Mariners School in 2002, I knew nothing about lesson plans or syllabi and had no idea how to build a curriculum. All I had was years of experience and a guiding foundation: teaching for understanding so that mariners could pass the captain’s license test and know why they passed it.
I can’t simply memorize information. But ever since I was young, if someone taught me the hows and whys behind every answer, I never forgot it. That became the basis of my organization.
I started offering weekend courses, and soon, Mariners School was all over the country. I was proud of our 94% success rate, and you’d better believe I touted that number at every opportunity.
However, I noticed that some students struggled in the classroom. Some had learning disabilities, and others weren’t suited to learning at a desk.
I remembered struggling with the limitations of the classroom environment as a student years ago. I thought, “Everyone learns a little differently. What if we could meet everyone’s needs?”
That’s where the idea of supplementing classroom courses with online material, audio, and video came from.
It was 2004. eLearning systems were new, and internet connectivity and speed weren’t always reliable. Nobody was learning online. But I knew that if I made it work, my struggling students would more easily overcome their challenges.
So, I got a team together to write the code for our first learning management system (LMS) so that students could access online material in addition to their in-person coursework. It cost $175,000, but it was worth the investment, even though I initially didn’t charge for it. We used that system for 12 years.
Students loved the online tools, so I soon contacted the Coast Guard to get approval for fully online courses. The powers that be came back with a grim message: it would never happen.
But I’m stubborn, so I spent the next few days researching. I found a hidden sliver of information from the early 1970s that directed the Coast Guard to find new and unique ways of teaching boaters — and the directive was still in effect.
I reached out again. The Coast Guard commandant told me not to get my hopes up, but I submitted the paperwork anyway.
Seven months later, that same gentleman called me. He said, “Captain Bob, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we’ve approved your online course.” Thus, Mariners officially became the first school in the country to get Coast Guard approval for online classes in 2005.
After our first 200 fully online students passed the course, I called each of them individually and asked for feedback. They each said it was a great experience because they had the flexibility to learn whenever, wherever. Plus, if they didn’t understand a lesson, they didn’t have to rely on hastily taken notes from a class. They could review the course as many times as they needed.
Most surprisingly, that 94% success rate I was so proud of rose to 98.7%.
Predictable results were one of the biggest benefits of our online courses.
Not every instructor of in-person classes followed the guidelines. Some felt that certain material was more important. Some had simply been up too late the night before. It was difficult to provide the high-quality education I wanted.
But when we went online, we could share the curriculum the way it was intended to be shared every single time, like how Big Macs are the same at every McDonald’s.
Today, we’re so confident in our methodology that we recently launched a pass guarantee. If you follow our course, use the tools and instruction we provide, and lean on us when you need help, we already know what the results will be.
About two years into teaching at my school, a hardened seafarer came in for the course. He had been boating all his life and thought he knew everything.
He was a difficult guy to teach. But at the end of the course, he approached me and said, “This was one of the best courses I’ve ever taken. I want you to teach my son, too.”
I was taken aback. His son was 17, and I had never taught a kid before. I asked him to reconsider, but he insisted. With my back against the wall, I finally said, “Sure, I’ll teach your son.”
The first class began, and the kid sat in the back of the room. I thought it would be a disaster, but I still worked with him. He absorbed all the information, engaged with us, asked questions, and ultimately did well on his exam.
Later, I met with his dad again. I told him that his son was the best student I had ever had and that I would pick him first out of a hundred Mariners for any job.
This hardened father wept. No one had ever said anything positive about his son regarding education. He had never done well in school, and it was always a battle between him, his teachers, and the school system. All he needed was an opportunity to get into an industry he could succeed in.
Fast forward a few years, and that bright young kid was one of the first on the scene when a plane crashed into the Hudson. For that heroism, the governor of New York awarded him a medal. Today, he’s still a licensed captain working on the Staten Island Ferry.
It’s students like him that make all the hard work worth it.
That’s the story of how I became Captain Bob Figular, founder and CEO of Mariners Learning System. What’s your story?
If you’re ready to add “Captain” to your name, too, don’t hesitate to reach out and learn more about Mariners.
October 09, 2024
Thanks for sharing your inspiring story! I passed my OUPV captain’s exam last month thanks to the terrific MLS course. It was so good that I’ve signed up for my Master’s license. Thank you!
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John McReynolds
October 09, 2024
Capt. Bob,
Thanks for sharing that story; I’m so pleased to read another ‘dropout to success’ tale. My own has a number of items in common with yours, and it’s always good to remember that behind even the most hardened, salty, skeptical people there can be a heart of gold; I’m working with a couple now, after pursuing a career change to the marine transportation field after being laid off from a 30 year career in cybersecurity and network engineering.
I pursued self-study for my master’s license for the last 3 years with some success, but ultimately bit the bullet and purchased your 100-Ton program, and passed it in August.
Now I’m working feverishly to accumulate the sea time as a deck hand before my 1-year window expires ;-)
Thank you for a great program, and stand by for my purchase of the sailing endorsement program ;-)
-John