About this site

You've felt it too. That moment when everything you've built starts to feel like someone else's story.

I've spent 25 years inside boardrooms, airports, and strategy decks. Forty countries. More transformation projects than I can count. And at some point — somewhere between the first-class seat and the applause — I looked up and realised I had no idea where I actually was.

Not "how do I help this company change?" but "after all this — what have I actually changed, for myself, at my own scale?"

I tried the side hustle route. I built a blog that reached 15,000 subscribers, watched it turn into a machine for selling courses and sponsored content, and walked away. The creator economy had its own rules. They weren't mine.

I'm Generation X. We grew up without a safety net, earned everything we have, and were never really the centre of anyone's attention. (We're fine with that.) We also watched AI arrive and felt something the younger generation didn't — not fear exactly, but the quiet weight of wondering whether everything we spent a lifetime learning still means something.

We don't talk about that. But we feel it.

So I started ... The Beagle.

The name is no accident. In 1831, Charles Darwin boarded HMS Beagle with no clear destination and no guaranteed return. The shore disappeared. The horizon was just water. And he wrote everything down anyway.

That feeling — ground gone, nothing certain, moving forward — that's what I'm chasing.

To try. Openly. And see what happens.

Here you'll find four things: the story as it unfolds, the system I'm building, the experiments I'm running — with real numbers, real failures — and the strategic analysis that ties it all together.

What happens when someone who chose to restart with everything they know decides to build with AI — in public, without a script?

I don't know yet. Nobody does.

But if something in this page made you pause — even for a second — you already know what that feeling is.

Come aboard.