eadership is a lot like fossil fuel — formed from the accumulation of some pretty rotten stuff over time with a great deal of pressure. But my best and abiding leadership lessons are those that involved the kind of immense pressure that results in diamonds.

It is likely that most of the people reading this will never face almost certain drowning in an ice-cold, remote Alaskan lake located in the Lake Clark National Park and Preserve, hundreds of roadless miles from a cell phone signal. But I assure you, the lessons taken from the ordeal were a personal breakthrough in the concepts of leading and following that I regularly apply to the most disruptive environments I encounter.

Like many trekking into the great outdoors, the lure of home is hard to resist at the close of an adventure. On shore, not far from our final destination, my father-in-law Dick and I assessed braving the weather versus bivouacking for the evening. We made the decision to push forward to a snug, warm cabin across the familiar lake. Ten minutes after leaving the safety of shore, the weather took a furious turn and in the blink of an eye waves were cresting well above the side of the boat. Dick masterfully held course, neither straight into nor straight away from the quickly rising gale. To turn directly into the wind would have flipped the craft upside down as the front cleared the wave, or buried the bow in the next swell. To turn away would have filled the boat with the first wave crashing over the stern.

Spray and the tops of some of the larger waves boarded the boat at will. I turned to look at Dick, standing at the rear of the boat with the tiller gripped firmly in his left hand. I found no encouragement from my captain. His face intense with teeth clenched, he was leaning into the storm searching the furiously swirling water for a path forward. I felt a terror rising in my chest — the kind that steals breath and reason.

The melee of water, wind, and engine noise paired with the boat’s violent rocking made it nearly impossible for us to communicate. Dick was certainly too busy to offer reassurance as I clung to the sides of the twisting boat, certain we would be in the freezing water shortly, alone in the pitch black. The prayer that followed was about my family, for sure. But more so, I asked God to preserve Dick’s life, and to reveal how I might contribute to his survival. This whole internal discussion took less than a minute. Calm returned and moved over me like a warm blanket.

It was then that I noticed the empty coffee can now floating freely in front of me. I grabbed it as I slid off the back of the seat onto my knees to face the rear of the boat. I did not look up or try to talk, but bailed furiously, seeking to maximize the amount of water that could be ejected downwind with each scoop. Once a minute the boat would rock violently. With each jolt, I would reach up and steady my captain with one hand, while working the coffee can in the other with furious precision.

At some point in the battle, water in the boat quit rising and began to fall ever so slightly, enough to risk a shout to Dick: “I think it is dying down!” A weak smile interrupted his masonry grimace and he nodded in response. We adjusted our stances inside the boat and set to our tasks with renewed purpose and restored hope. Obviously, we both survived, and until Dick’s passing in 2012, a knowing look with the phrase “I think it’s dying down!” memorialized certain death averted.

For me, the lessons learned that day are indelible and have been strengthened through reflection. They are relevant to the fundamental elements of successfully applied leadership and “followership.”

Think Clearly

We both contributed to the decision about whether to bivouac on the beach or run across the wide lake to the cabin. Lesson: Weigh the risks against the benefits dispassionately. Think big-picture and don’t underestimate the effects of personal comfort-seeking in the analysis. The more uncomfortable choice may be the best.

Once the course is chosen, it may not be possible to reverse or alter course. I am grateful Dick realized the danger and did not give in to that temptation. Leadership experience in difficult seas can help prevent deadly, panic-driven reactions. Lesson: Value that experience.

If a plan unravels, judgment can suffer, and fear-induced paralysis makes matters worse. Lesson: Consciously alter focus to others. One is more likely to think, plan and act effectively by focusing on the needs of someone other than oneself.

Leadership makes the call. “Followership” is the art of supporting the program at hand even after a poor decision, and making the best use of personal resources to mitigate the damage and perhaps even achieve an acceptable result. Lesson: Mutual encouragement in a difficult circumstance liberates both to focus on the mission rather than personal tragedy.

Consistent leadership is not easy. It involves making impossible decisions about unknown future events based on imperfect information. It is easy for followers to second-guess and arm-chair after the fact. My new rule when I find myself in a circumstance not of my own making, but in which I can affect the outcome, is: Pray, Bail and Shout.