Loch Duart
History
IT’S the turn of winter into spring in 1999 and all has suddenly turned to hell in a handcart. One of Wester Ross Fisheries’ sites has been declared suspicious for ISA, and though it was highly unlikely and proved to be unwarranted, it nearly scuppered our attempt to buy the salmon farming arm of Joseph Johnston and Sons. But I am getting the cart before the horse.
About two years earlier, I was attending a meeting of the West Sutherland Fisheries Trust (which I now chair), when I had a conversation with the then chair, Dr Jean Balfour.
I was out of work, having left Joseph Johnston and Sons the previous year. She asked after their well-being and I replied that I was not sure, but life had been rather difficult.
It cumulated in a discussion about the company being bought out and Jean asked whether I would buy them.
I pointed out that I had only one problem with that, in that I had no money. She replied- and I will always remember this because it changed my life: ‘I wouldn’t let that stop you!’ Of course, she was right. I can see that now but then it seemed impossible. Some time later, having thought more about it, I contacted Andy Bing, an old friend with whom I had worked at Joseph Johnston.
He decided, rather amazingly, that I was not mad and that he would like to join in the fun.
On further discussion, we showed our initial figures to another potential mad man and to our utter amazement he asked if there was space in the project for him. So Alan Balfour joined the team and we were on our way.
Or not quite, as business plan and market concept needed to be written. I had never done this before and assumed it would be relatively simple.
But there are some times when you realise just how over optimistic you have been. This turned out to be one of them.
I had always believed in farming with environment and welfare at the top of the agenda, so working with Andy to produce the market strategy was easy and very enjoyable.
The financial part was not funny at all. As I was the fish farmer in the team, it fell to me to produce it, with no accountancy experience and very little knowledge. It resulted in the production of a 40-page Excel workbook plan with P & Ls and cash flows.
However, I did not create the balance sheets till last. This will produce loud guffaws of laughter from anyone who has ever had anything to do with
accounts, but to the uninitiated it is a nightmare, as every line has to balance between the two different sets of sheets.
I only discovered this when we were due to have a meeting with a major bank. In two nights I had about three hours of sleep, but I managed to get the sheets to balance in the end.
We presented to many different financial institutions, not least of which was Scottish Enterprise, which used the services of Ashdown Milan to write a critique of our market strategy.
I still have it and go to it when I want to have a good laugh. The essence of their argument was that our story was too complicated, it would never get to the customer and that, anyway, no primary product had ever been branded before.
So, in other words, our market strategy wouldn’t work and thus our business plan would also be a failure.
Of course, they couldn’t know the enormous talent in the team or how utterly brilliant (for that, read mad) we were!
I should point out that during this process we
were negotiating with Joseph Johnston and Sons to purchase the sites. The obvious difficulty was not letting the potential seller know that the potential buyer didn’t have the wherewithal.
It all looks so convoluted now when I look back and I am not entirely sure how we managed it.
The spectre of ISA made the idea of purchasing a salmon farm less attractive. Certainly, that made it llook less attractive to investors, as we found out repeatedly.
However, the sites we wanted to acquire were more than 100 miles from the nearest outbreak and we made a big stand on this, which enabled us to draw together the funds.
And then the Wester Ross scare occurred and we lost pretty well all of our funding overnight.
Well, we wouldn’t be here if we hadn’t succeeded, but it taught me an enormous amount about accounting, finance, funding and how luck plays a huge part in most projects.
On August 29, 1999, in a meeting with Ewos in a hotel in Dunkeld, I learnt that my partners had signed the deal with Joseph Johnston and Sons and we were the proud owners of a salmon farming business.
We had come up with the name Loch Duart after many long discussions, having rejected such great ideas as Badcall Salmon (where our head office is) and a few others.
It was a heady moment, full of hope and fulfilment; Loch Duart salmon was born and the roller coaster ride had started.
Within two years, our backs were hard against the wall, as the stocks on site at the time of buying refused to perform and some we bought refused to perform too.
It was a time which tested loyalty and friendship and we fast found out those who were as good as their word and those who vanished when times were tough.
We got through because we let all of our suppliers, customers and financial support know how difficult it was going to be, and then delivered what we said we would.
Crest of the wave
Within four years, we had bought the farm next door and entered a competition entitled Taste of Britain, sponsored by the Telegraph and Sainsbury’s.
This was the crest of the wave for us and will remain on my memory as one of the best times of my life.
We knew we had been short-listed for the prize and were invited down to the awards ceremony in the House of Lords.
As it was against the entire food industry, we doubted that we had been commended, but Andy Bing and I decided to go anyway as it would be good PR at worst.
We stayed in a cheap hotel across the river and walked in from there to the House of Lords, wearing our kilts.
You may not be surprised to hear that we were followed across Westminster Bridge, giggling madly, by a large bunch of enthusiastic tourists with cameras.
It put us in a very good mood and we went in through security to the ceremony with about the biggest smiles it is possible to have.
Anyone who goes to awards ceremonies knows that they can be a bit dull and they tend to drag until the awards part.
But the food was very good and the wine was lovely, so we may have taken a drop more than we normally would.
They went through the commended categories one by one, and cheeses and bacons passed us by without a mention of Scotland, let alone Loch Duart.
All that was left was the final prize. I will never forget the moment when we looked at each other as Loch Duart was called out. After all that the company had been through, it was such a vindication.
When we first took over we asked all our team to come to the village hall to explain who we were. I asked them if they thought they produced anything special and only one person put their hand up.
Here, finally, was the proof of what the market thought of what we did, and all the team that fought the elements and worked so hard were represented in that moment.
Like all of our lives, there are highs and lows. I could talk about the moment that Andy, on a sales trip, entered a sushi restaurant in Los Angeles.
It was run by a Japanese American and was very Japanese in style, with the first of the conveyer belts with chefs in the centre. As Andy walked in, the owner announced that he represented Loch Duart and all the staff stopped work and applauded.
When Andy told me, I asked him what colour his shoes were as I knew he would have been dreadfully embarrassed. We both tend to check out our shoes when we are complimented.
Since these amazing days, Loch Duart has had ups and downs, but our team carried us through.
There are many days I would rather not go through again but I would not change a thing.
As time passes, so one generation hands over to another, and if you are lucky - and I am- you get to see what they do with the concept.
I am now a non-executive director with Loch Duart and my last trip showed what a special group of people work there.
Passionate, committed and delivering at an extraordinary level, the stock that I saw were some of the best I have seen in my career.
The broodstock were magnificent and still so obviously different from the general industry stocks. The health status was also of the highest order. It was utterly wonderful to see.
Would these stocks win the Taste of Britain now if the competition still existed? Well, of course, it was so much better in my day, or was it?
Who knows and, to be honest, who cares? The stocks were magnificent and Loch Duart goes on doing the things that Andy, Alan and I dreamed about back in the late 90s.
Isn’t that just the most amazing thing?
“There are many days I would rather not go through again but I would not thing” change a