Craig Dobbin

"Cutting expenses to balance the books wasn’t Dobbin’s style. In 60 fact, the concept wasn't in his genes. Determined to gain maximum fun and profit from business, he refused to surrender one in favour of the other, especially when the fun involved all those expensive whirlybirds at the hangar."

"CRAIG DOBBIN ABANDONED the idea of marketing building products. Nobody was making much money in that business, including his father, who had closed his operation. The big opportunities lay not in selling lumber and hardware but in using them to build homes, then selling those. Growing prosperity in and around St. John’s during the 1960s was creating a demand for houses, and Craig Dobbin stumbled upon a critical fact: not only could he sell a house before it was completed, but he and his family could reside in it until the deal was done."

"Not in this case. The helicopters became an animated version of Dobbin’s property developments, something to manage into a business as broad as his vision and ambition. He couldn't fly a helicopter, but he was never skillful at cutting and assembling a perfectly true roof truss, either. It didn’t matter. The world was filled with people who possessed these abilities. They were indispensable, but at the end of the day their chief concerns lay elsewhere."

"Craig Dobbin did all of these things. He did them, as he freely acknowledged on many occasions, by relying on talented people with skills that were beyond him. Like hammering a nail straight into a two by four, or flying a helicopter, or knowing how to maintain it."

"dedicated to meeting the industry’s need for helicopters, Dobbin decided. But they had to be the right kind of helicopters, he realized, flown by the right kind of pilots and backed by the right kind of management. “It didn’t take a genius to see how big the offshore oil business: was going to be for Newfoundland,” Patrick O’Callaghan points out. President and ceo of a large St. John’s catering firm, O’Callaghan became fast friends with Dobbin around that time. “The first contract I got with the offshore oil companies was $1.7 million a year just to feed the workers on one rig. We all thought we were in heaven.” Offsho"

"Many observers have suggested that the birth and subsequent success of Sealand was a stroke of Irish luck. True, the launch of Sealand and its growth into the Canadian Helicopter Company (cHc) happened to coincide with the development of Newfoundland’s offshore petroleum industry, but it would be foolish to suggest that Dobbin did not foresee the business potential from the beginning. Sealand was not initially designed to be a major player in the province's oil and gas production, and JetRangers were not ideal machines to meet the needs of the petroleum giants; they were too small, too slow and too subject to being grounded in bad weather conditions, making aerial surveys, photography and chartered flights their main applications. There was money to be made from these markets, but not big money. That opportunity lay elsewhere."

"As a builder and developer, Dobbin looked for every edge available. Finding a parcel of land on Wicklow Street, at that time part of the northern fringe of St. John’s, he noted the property’s price was substantially lower than that of similar lots located just a block or two away. For good reason: the expensive building lots were flat and square, with plenty of topsoil for easy excavation; the Wicklow Street lots were irregular and extended up a slope broken by stony outcroppings, making it impossible to construct a standard-design structure on them. Craig Dobbin bought the lots at bargain prices and built homes that flowed up the slope and between the stones. He sold them for a larger profit margin thanks to the low cost of the building lots."

"Dobbin soon discovered that the annual maintenance costs of a helicopter roughly equalled its initial purchase price. In effect, it was like purchasing a new helicopter every year he retained the same machine. Confronted with such a drain on their cash flow, most businesspeople would either shrug and absorb it or heed the advice of their accountant and pass the toy along to someone else. Dobbin, in a move mirrored at every stage of his career, did neither. The aircraft, he believed, could be altered from a consumer of cash to a creator of cash by chartering it. Of course, if he were to be serious about the business he needed more than one aircraft; in other words, he would respond to the cost of operating a single helicopter by adding the expense of buying and operating three or four of them. Additional JetRangers were purchased in short order, and in 1977 Sealand Helicopters, 100 per cent owned by Craig Dobbin, was launched."

"Other barriers to obtaining contracts in South America were more direct, involving plain brown envelopes filled with small pieces of green-backed paper bearing portraits of U.S. presidents. Craig Dobbin was upfront about this aspect of his business, explaining that he needed partners “to get the appropriate licence for us, get the appropriate visas for our personnel, provide us with copilots, clear our products and inventories through customs and, if there was any graft involved, to pay the graft,” although he despised this aspect of the business."

"One investment advisor familiar with the industry estimates there are fewer than 1,200 helicopters in the entire world capable of carrying ten or more people. The combination of extensive applications and limited numbers reduces depreciation concerns for quality helicopters. “In the twenty-seven years I’ve been ‘in the business,” said the cEo of a U.S. competitor to Craig Dobbin’s business, “I don’t think I have ever sold a helicopter at a book loss.”"

"On the upside, Dobbin’s pioneering move provided leverage in his negotiations to purchase the Super Pumas. Aerospatiale needed a breakthrough in the North American market, dominated by homegrown competitors Bell and Sikorsky. Aerospatiale were prepared to accommodate the first serious purchaser of Super Pumas with attractive deals, and they did, after Sealand received an injection of capital from Louisiana-based Petroleum Helicopters. Cash acquired in exchange for 22 per cent equity in Sealand enabled Dobbin to place a down payment on a fleet of Super Pumas for delivery in 1982."

"Bidding goodbye to his astonished co-workers at Okanagan, Jones departed for St. John’s. Within a few days of arriving at. Sealand, he began doubting the wisdom of his decision. He may have wangled a good deal out of Dobbin, but its value was worthless if Sealand was unable to meet its financial obligations to him. That was a distinct possibility, since the company was having difficulty meeting its financial obligation to almost everyone else. Among Sealand’s most vocal creditors was Aerospatiale, awaiting payments for its fleet of multimillion-dollar Super Pumas plus spare parts and servicing equipment in Sealand’s possession. The chances of settling the debt quickly were minimal. Sealand’s revenue was about $20 million annually, but overhead costs were absorbing so much of its income that little was left over. Much of Jones’s effort, he soon realized, would consist of juggling one dollar in the bank with every three or four dollars the company owed. Sealand’s immense debt was disconcerting to him and every staff member aware of the situation. But not to Craig Dobbin."

"Dobbin grasped the significance of these facts early. He also understood that, by servicing the production side of the petroleum industry rather than its exploration activities, his company would be immune to the market gyrations caused by fluctuating prices and geopolitical events. While helicopters can play a crucial role in the exploration for new oil deposits, this aspect of the industry involves substantial upfront costs and faces high odds against success; any drop in oil prices results in severe cutbacks. Once a production facility is operating, however, it becomes to a large degree inured to any rise and fallin prices. Craig Dobbin shaped and managed his helicopter companies to service production facilities first, creating a relatively stable floor of business volume."

"Craig became famous for his motto: When things get tough, you get bigger. And he really believed it. When things got tight financially he looked around for something to buy or some way to expand. That was his solution to almost everything. SYLVAIN ALLARD, president and cEo, cHc Helicopters Ltd."

"To become a serious bidder, Sealand would require a fleet of helicopters similar to Okanagan’s aging Sikorsky s-61s. To chase the contracts Dobbin would have to upgrade his fleet. But instead of the economical option of buying or leasing his own Sikorskys, he chose a strategy that became a hallmark for both the remarkable successes and the various crises the company encountered over the next twenty years."

"orget used Sikorskys or new medium-sized LongRangers, Craig Dobbin decided. They were half-measures. To get the job done right he would order a fleet of Supér Pumas, immediately identifying Sealand as a serious player in the industry. It was a bold, almost foolhardy move. The Super Pumas were among the most expensive craft available, each carrying a purchase price of $6 million, or about half the company’s annual gross revenue at that point. He would have to float their purchase at a time when interest rates hovered at record levels of 16 to 18 per cent. What’s more, the Super Pumas were unproven in the North American market; they looked good on paper, but no one was anxious to test-fly the machines in the tightly scheduled and highly competitive offshore petroleum industry. No one, that is, except Craig Dobbin."

"Over time, no one admired Craig Dobbin and valued his compan50 ionship more than Hudson did. In 1992 a roast celebrating Hudson’s upcoming marriage was held at Toronto’s Skydome Hotel, with all proceeds going to charity. Most of the all-male audience comprised representatives of Canada’s financial community. Dobbin, unable to attend, sent a telegram pledging $5,000 to charity but offering to double the amount if Hudson dropped his trousers and mooned the Bay Street heavyweights. Hudson agreed. The belt was unfastened and the trousers were lowered. Almost fifteen years later, Dobbin would return the gesture under different circumstances, before a somewhat different audience."

"Sean Tucker, a Sealand pilot (and nephew of Craig Dobbin), recalls occasions when Dobbin gathered pilots and maintenance staff _together in the company’s hangar at St. John’s airport to announce, “Boys, I can’t make the payroll this week. If you hang on I'll do my best to see that you get paid next week, and I'll catch up then.” “Each time it happened,” Tucker remembers, “the response was, ‘That’s all right, Mr. Dobbin. Do the best you can, It was an amazing example of the loyalty and affection everyone had for him. And he was as good as his word. Everybody got paid eventually.”"

"It often appeared that Dobbin could not resist an opportunity to expand his business empire, no matter how many challenges that might present or how much deeper in debt it would place the company. In the early 1980s, a change in Department of Transport regulations persuaded him to launch Air Atlantic as a feeder airline in the maritime provinces for Canadian Airlines Ltd. Dobbin got Air Atlantic into operation several months ahead of its competitor Air Nova, which would serve a similar role with Air Canada. Air Atlantic enjoyed immediate access to cAL's ticket counters, baggage handlers and computer reservations system, but Air Nova was unable to secure its deal with Air Canada for some time. “In any business deal, timing is generally everything,” Harry Steele observes, “and Craig's timing was perfect.”"

"Jones explained to Dobbin that he enjoyed his job, he and his wife loved Vancouver, and though he was flattered by the offer he was not interested. Refusing to concede, Dobbin called several times over the next few months, attempting to persuade Jones to accept the job, even flying Jones and his wife to St. John’s for a meeting. Jones continued turning down the offer until the day Dobbin called Jones at a relative’s home in Winnipeg and said, “What the hell is it going to take to get you back east running Sealand?”"

"gave them to you. And Craig said, ‘I didn’t tell him what I was going to do with them, did I?’”"

"Despite constant threats of bankruptcy, Dobbin kept finding new ways to expand the company, ways that demanded access to new sources of investment capital. His confidence and charm, plus a remarkable knack for grasping and assessing financial figures, helped him succeed where others would not even venture. On one occasion, he announced to a Sealand manager that he was off to New York in search of new financing. “But we're in a serious debt position,” the manager reminded him. “How are you going to convince anybody in New York to give us more money?” Dobbin grinned and replied, “A cat makes strange jumps when it’s cornered.” A few days later he returned with a new inflow of badly needed cash."

"Jones and his family were settled in Vancouver, a city he loved, and Jones enjoyed working at Okanagan Helicopters. His wife, a doctor, had a thriving practice. They owned a home near the water and had no interest in returning to the east coast. “In fact,” Jones says, “if you had told me an hour before I met Craig Dobbin that I would ever move back to Newfoundland, I would have bet my life savings against it.”"

"Even with the 10 per cent cut,.from time to time Sealand’s cash situation was insufficient to keep the company afloat. Bob Dunne, a childhood friend of the Dobbin clan who managed the Sealand hangar in the mid-1980s, recalls Dobbin being forced to lay off several of his staff, among them Dunne himself. “He gave me my severance cheque, and it was a pretty good one, too,” Dunne says. “But I was the guy who made the deposit at that particular bank branch and I knew there wasn’t a bunch of money there.” Leaving the Sealand offices, Dunne made a prudent decision. “I beat it to the company’s bank. I knew if I went there I'd get [the cheque] changed without question and without waiting around to see if she'd bounce or not. So I got her changed to cash, then went up the road to my own bank and deposited it.” The next day, Dobbin called Dunne back to the hangar and said, “Good news. I’ve got your job back for you.” ' “He asked me for his cheque back,” Dunne grins, “and I told him what I did. I said I went straight to his bank and got the cash without waiting to see if the cheque would clear or not. And you know what Craig Dobbin did? He laughed and said, ‘You did the right thing. That was good thinking on your part. That’s what he was like.”"

"The shift from real estate to helicopters was achieved thanks to traits that Dobbin acknowledged several times in his career, those that mark all successful cEos no matter what industry they serve. The traits are to hire carefully, assign responsibility widely, and avoid micro-managing wherever possible. Dobbin knew little about piloting helicopters and even less about servicing them. These were not his functions. “I’m not an expert on anything,” he explained. “Whatever the job, whatever the challenge, somebody out there can do it better than I can. True entrepreneurs surround themselves with professional managers who share their vision and put form around it. Not only can you not do it all yourself, it’s not necessary, and it doesn’t make sense. I believe in being a good casting director of people who work together and share together.”"

"The appeal to Dobbin may have been more than an opportunity to add to Sealand’s bottom line. It might have been personal. Dobbin’s winning the offshore oil contract from Okanagan a few years earlier had deeply angered one of Okanagan’s larger shareholders, John Lecky. Since that time, Lecky had acquired control of Okanagan, and Craig Dobbin may have enjoyed the chance to challenge him again, the son of a St. John’s lumber dealer matching wits with the Cambridge-educated sophisticate who was heir to the MacMillan Bloedel fortune. Many businesspeople, including Harry Steele and Robert Foster, liked and admired Lecky. Craig Dobbin did not. “John Lecky inherited a billion dollars,” Dobbin once noted, “and it’s become his hobby to blow it all away.”"

"spending so much time in such miserable weather while the man who owed him a substantial amount of money played cat and mouse with Hudson’s own aircraft. Dobbin’s strategy, Hudson gathered, was to assume that Hudson would give up his attempts to seize the aircraft and return to Toronto.-Hudson promised himself he would not leave until he settled the issue. On the third day, Hudson received a telephone call at his suite in the Hotel Newfoundland. It was Craig Dobbin. “You know,” Dobbin said, “a dumb Upper Canadian will keep running around this province looking for those damn planes. But a real man will come have an Irish whiskey with me and settle it.”"

"Jones kept raising the issue with Dobbin, pointing out that free trips represented a substantial leak from the company’s revenue stream. Finally he laid it out with all the strength and conviction he could muster. Controlling this single expense, Jones lectured, would represent a major step in the company rising out of its debt position. “J.C., that’s just what I need to hear,” Dobbin replied, slapping Jones on the back. “You get on top of this and tighten it up for me.” Jones asked Dobbin if he was serious; Dobbin assured him that he was damn serious. Quickly rounding up all the Sealand pilots, Jones announced there would be no further free helicopter service for anyone. “Only two ways can you take one of our choppers off the ground,” he ordered. “If it’s a real revenue-producing flight under a contract, or if my signature is on the flight request. Got it?” The pilots got it"

"“I couldn't believe that he'd tracked me to Winnipeg,” Jones recalls. “So I figured I’d put him off for good, I'd just get rid of him.” Jones asked for twice his current salary, adding that Dobbin would have to cover all his moving expenses to Newfoundland, provide his family with an acceptable house, and have a new car waiting when he got there. “I made it as ridiculous as I could, convinced that he would give up.”"

"“I learned that Craig’s management style was based on gambling,” Jones explains. “I had earned my mBa, which equips you to manage and reduce risk. That’s important, but the process sucks all the entrepreneurial spirit out of you. Craig never had a formal business education. He admired people who did, but he didn’t trust or didn’t appreciate some aspects of it. He was always working like a man at the very edge of a cliff. One strong gust of wind would blow him over the brink. The other managers and I, we were always trying to get him to pull back from the edge and give us a little manoeuvring room. But as soon as we did, he'd take us back again with some scheme or deal. He was never really comfortable unless he was right on the edge.”"

"Jones found himself spending as much time managing Craig Dobbin—or attempting to manage him—as he spent handling the company’s business affairs. “Over and over again, I would say, ‘Craig, if we do this idea of yours we will be rolling the dice, and we stand to lose the whole kit and caboodle. If it fails, we close up’ Craig would just grin at me and say, J.C., we're fuckin’ doin’ it!’”"

"That weekend, Jones was working in his garden when he looked up at the sound of a cuc helicopter passing overhead. Recalling no scheduled flight that day, he checked the log on Monday morning to see that the craft had been flown by Sealand’s chief pilot. Jones encountered the pilot and asked, out of curiosity, the purpose of the flight. An emergency call from a client? A post-maintenance test? “The pilot, who I knew adored Craig, started pawing the ground with his foot and looking around, trying not to answer me,” Jones says. “All he said was, ‘I had to go somewhere, and I kept asking him where, what was he doing? Finally, he admitted Dobbin had called, telling the pilot he wanted to go flying and swearing the pilot to secrecy, saying, ‘For God’s sake, don’t let J.C. hear about this!’ So there was the Chairman in conspiracy with his own people to keep me in the dark because I was trying to save the company money.”"

"To be invited on one of Craig Dobbin’s extended fishing excursions was to sample a highly developed form of male bonding. Time away from the water was spent trading bawdy stories, sampling barbecued meals, sipping Irish whiskey, and playing cutthroat card games. Dobbin’s demeanour during these trips was as rough-edged as might be expected from a man who revelled in his masculinity. He was no loud, uncouth chauvinist, however. In the presence of women, children and grandchildren, his manner and language were playful, courteous and respectful, and he employed only the mildest of four-letter words."

"AT SIXTY YEARS of age, Craig Dobbin could have decided to relax a little. Instead, he geared up to extend cHc’s size and clout in the same manner as he had been doing for almost twenty years: by playing harder and longer than his competitors. When the opportunity presented itself, he would liquidate them through the simple technique of swallowing them whole. As impressive as his success might have been under ordinary circumstances, the way in which he achieved it—against a challenge as unexpected as it was deadly—remains one of the most remarkable tales in Canadian business history."

"“He was very analytical about the numbers and procedures, and of course he was not the kind of person who sat around waiting for things to happen. He wanted to make them happen, and I had to point out that he really had no control over the situation from this point on.” A transplant cannot be undone, Dobbin was told. It was not like a business that could be sold or a marriage that could be ended. Once he was on the list, whether or not a suitable donor was found, the procedure depended on the skills of others and the luck of the draw. “It’s easy to sweet-talk a transplant patient and say, ‘Don’t worry, we'll get the transplant done and you will be as good as new, but that’s a huge disservice to a person who is dying, because you don’t know, you can’t know if it will be successful,” says Blumenthal."

"CRAIG DOBBIN PLAYED hard and fair, at least as fair as was necessary to win the game. Hiding aircraft from Steve Hudson, failing to make lease payments on his helicopters for several months and dodging lien-happy bankers were necessary tactics for an entrepreneur building a global business from scratch. In his heart, however, Dobbin believed he never engaged in disreputable activities such as backroom deals that undercut your partners or put greed ahead of ethics and principle. That’s why few events in his business career disturbed him more than his civil suit against the giant Boeing aircraft company, which charged that Boeing had engaged in exactly those unethical acts."

"To Craig Dobbin, these demands were gnats to be brushed aside. His vision of cHc remained as clear as ever, and his ambition as vigorous. The world was easing its way out of recession, offshore petroleum exploration and production were gaining strength, and Hibernia would soon come on stream. Craig Dobbin was running one of the world’s three largest helicopter service companies, surrounding himself with rich and powerful friends and settled in a mansion with a woman whose business capabilities almost matched his own. His personal net worth swung between $40 and $50 million, divided among real estate holdings and cuc assets, and his sons and daughters were providing him with grandchildren whom he adored and enjoyed as much or more than any other aspect of his life. He was also assembling an impressive list of honours and recognitions."

"Forming another partnership with Cabot Martin, Dobbin launched NorTek Engineering as an engineering source for petroleum companies engaged in developing offshore energy sources. In a brilliant business move, he invited Norwegian Petroleum Consultants, builders of concrete production platforms for use in offshore exploration, to take a 40 per cent interest in NorTek."

"In St. John’s, Craig Dobbin watched the situation with interest. North Sea helicopter services revenues approaching $500 million annually, for companies with whom cuc was already dealing? Now there was a prize, and it came with potential entry into the entire European market. The shaky financial condition of 81H failed to dissuade Dobbin. The company’s need for an injection of capital was nothing he hadn’t encountered over his years of building cuc. And the BiH fleet of Super Pumas and Sikorsky s-61s and s-76s was a perfect fit with cuc. Merging the two companies would be fairly easy, if he could sidestep that pesky requirement for EU citizenship. In Dobbin’s view, the U.K. Competition Commission was practi144 cally calling for him and cuc, or someone like them, to step onstage and deliver a happy ending to a dramatic situation. A couple of problems had to be overcome, of course. The first was money; the recent loss of the uN contracts had left cuc with little cash in the bank, but that small detail had never stopped Craig Dobbin before. Robert Foster’s Capital Canada firm could tap the necessary source of ready cash, Dobbin believed. And as for the small obstacle requiring Dobbin to carry an EU passport, well, he would deal with that in time."

"Losing $50 million worth of business was upsetting enough, but losing it to the Norwegian firm was doubly galling, because cuc was not permitted to bid on helicopter services in Norway. Legal counsel advised Dobbin that cuc could appeal the contract under the provisions of the Atlantic Accord, designed to favour firms in Newfoundland and Labrador in the sharing of Hibernia and other offshore petroleum earnings. Craig Dobbin always enjoyed a battle, and he was hardly a stranger to civil litigation. He rejected the idea, however. Dragging the case through the courts was not likely to endear him to the large petroleum companies he wanted to do business with. Besides, legal arguments bored him. But wheeling and dealing—that was the source of one of the many twinkles in Craig Dobbin’s Irish eyes."

"Capital costs for large-capacity helicopters with sophisticated navigation equipment can rival that of aircraft for scheduled airlines, but maintenance costs per kilometre flown are dramatically higher than for fixed-wing craft. Industry standards require operators to track operating time and cycles for specific components and to replace the parts even if they and the machine are operating at 100 per cent efficiency. Manufacturers’ guidelines dictate that aircraft such as the Super Pumas receive 3.6 hours of routine maintenance for every hour they spend in the air. This involves not only a substantial cost for maintenance crews, most of whom work overnight on helicopters assigned to offshore service, but for parts inventory as well. While revenue is potentially high, operating costs can quickly spiral out of control, and by the late 1980s Craig Dobbin was searching for a means to absorb sudden leaps in operating costs and dramatic drop-offs in revenue."

"Now that Dobbin appeared to have an effective steward for the company’s financial assets in the coo position, he was free to apply his entrepreneurial skills to other challenges. Returning to his idea of entering the leasing business, he created Aviaco International Leasing Inc. and Furlong International Ltd., the thirty-first and thirty-second corporation launched since he founded Craig Dobbin Real Estate Ltd. back in 1963. Perhaps as a means of achieving revenge on the computer he had manhandled into a snowbank a few years later, he also founded Dobbin Data Services Ltd. as a computer resource centre."

"N 1992, CHC COULD rightly claim the title of third-largest helicopter services company in the world. Helicopter Services Group (Hsq), a Norwegian firm, was the clear leader measured by gross income, followed by the U.K.’s Bristow Group. Third place may have impressed others, but it was never acceptable for Craig Dobbin. cuc, he was determined, would become the dominant firm in its industry, and he was too impatient to wait around while it grew from within. He would expand the company through acquisition, and the beginnings of an opportunity presented itself on November 5, 1991, through an event in the waters of the Atlantic off the Canary Islands."

"Back on this side of the Atlantic, Dobbin grew intrigued by Helicopter Welders Ltd., a Langley, B.C., firm engaged in servicing and rebuilding helicopters, and he proposed the purchase of the company to the cuc board of directors. The board was cool to the idea. In a fit of pique, Dobbin purchased it himself, changed its name to Heli-Welders of Canada, and installed the now unemployed J.C. Jones to manage it. Within a few months Heli-Welders had expanded significantly, growing from a staff of twenty-eight to . sixty employees and producing substantial profits. With a degree of understandable smugness, Dobbin sold his private company to CHC and pocketed the profit."

"THE STAFF AND executives Craig Dobbin gathered around him justified his claim that his job function was closer to casting director than to CEO. Most continue to this day in responsible positions at CHC, vital to the company’s remarkable global success."

"Aviaco, Craig Dobbin believed, would open exciting new opportunities. He saw the company as a way to exploit his widening circle of contacts in and around the aviation business, and as the source of a potentially massive cash flow from long-term leases. Unfortunately, Aviaco never succeeded in cashing in on its inaugural deal, the one sending the Dash 8s to the Bahamas. At the time the deal was settled, de Havilland was owned by Boeing, the Seattle-based aircraft giant. In Dobbin’s view, Boeing reviewed the Aviaco/Bahamasair deal and decided to cut out the middleman—in this case Aviaco and Dobbin—arranging a direct sale between Boeing and Bahamasair for brand-new aircraft. That alone might have launched a civil suit against Bahamasair, but Dobbin charged that Boeing and de Havilland officials had retained Duncan Rapier, through Miami-based Sovereign Aircraft Ltd., as a “consultant” to close the deal."

"what you decide happens. If you decide, for example, to get a contract, how you get it may not’be the most logical or elegant method, as long as you get it. And if you decide to be successful, as my father did—you can criticize the way he did it but you can’t question the fact that he did.”"

"“My father was a very bright man,” says Mark, “but there were 104 better people than him when it came to crunching numbers and better people at setting business strategy, I suppose. Sometimes the decisions he made didn’t seem logical to people on the outside looking in, but he usually made them pay off.”"

"Among the responsibilities Young assumed was managing the enormous fish pond at Dobbin’s Beachy Cove home, a 450-squaremetre pool fed by ocean water and stocked with cod and lobster. Dobbin’s idea of installing a pond from which he could enjoy fresh cod whenever it appealed to him was inspired by a comment from his friend and business associate Cabot Martin. Martin, a history and archaeology buff, was describing how the Romans kept live fish in tidal ponds, pulling them out whenever they fancied a meal of fresh fish. “Can I do that?” Dobbin asked. “What’s involved?” Martin, who had been discussing Dobbin’s potential investment in an aquaculture project (which later became Sea Forest Plantation), said of course it could be done in Newfoundland. “Send me a report on that,” Dobbin said. “Tell me how it could be done at Beachy Cove.”"

"The more Stanford met Dobbin’s demands, the more Dobbin asked of him. The demands grew substantially in Dobbin’s later years when, in contrast with his previous attitude, Craig Dobbin became almost obsessed with tracking changes in his liquidity. During this period, Stanford’s duties included providing a daily review of Dobbin’s assets, showing changes in market valuations and cash on hand from the previous day. “The report had to be on his desk by nine in the morning,” Stanford remembers. “If it wasn’t there by ten after nine my telephone would ring and I would hear Craig’s voice bellow, ‘Where the hell is my daily report?’ But this was rare. It was usually there for him.”"

"Moakler, who carries herself with the easy openness common among Newfoundlanders, provided Dobbin with information to support his salutary style. “He would tell me who he was meeting with later in the day,” she recalls, “sometimes a cHc employee, sometimes a client or politician, and ask me about them. I would mention perhaps that he and his wife were expecting a child shortly, that they had just purchased a new home, and that his hobby was woodworking. And I would hear Mr. Dobbin greet the man later, saying, ‘I hear you and your wife are expecting a child. Gonna be happy in your new house, I'll bet,’ and maybe mention something about carpentry, and the other fellow would be floored, simply floored.”"

"Ryan, as colourful and controversial in many ways as Craig Dobbin, established a pattern of partnering with heavyweight personalities in his corporate structure that Dobbin may later have duplicated. Among the non-executive directors recruited by Ryan to serve on Gpa’s board were former Taoiseach Garret FitzGerald; former British chancellor of the exchequer Nigel Lawson; and the former chairman of 1c1, Sir John Harvey-Jones, who served as Gpa’s chairman."

"Following that success, Clayton Parsons became the focus of varI02 ious tales concerning “Old Soldier.” They included the time Parsons reportedly worked thirty-six hours straight to relocate cuc, including aircraft, spare parts, maintenance equipment, furnishings and more, from one hangar to another on short notice. On another occasion a blizzard shut down the entire city of St. John’s, including the airport, but Clayton Parsons was at his desk promptly at 8:00 a.m., prepared to put in a full day’s work. “He is the embodiment of one of my favourite sayings,” Dobbin said in praising Parsons. “To Clayton and to me, failure is not an option.” Dobbin repeatedly challenged his employees at every level with a “Just get it done” attitude. Those who succeeded, as Clayton Parsons did, found themselves within Dobbin’s warm inner circle, free to move as far up the corporate ladder as they chose."

"from me and went down the list of twenty-five names, drawing a line through twenty-three of them, skipping my name and one secretary.” Included on the list of highlighted names were the president, vice-president, financial analyst and sales and support staff. “He handed the paper back to me and told me he wanted to meet the people on his list the next day at nine o'clock,” Stanford continues. “As soon as they showed up for work in the morning, he gave them their notice on the spot. That’s why I didn’t meet Craig Dobbin for a year. He basically went into hiding.”"

"The banks never lost their trust in Stanford, nor their expectation that he would keep Dobbin’s financial affairs in line. If Craig Dobbin was a riverboat gambler playing every game of chance in the house, Keith Stanford was a Calvinist preacher standing quietly in a corner, clenching coins within his tight fist. Dobbin’s bankers and creditors learned to trust Stanford’s assurances, and for several years Craig Dobbin’s file at the St. John’s branch of the Tp Bank carried the notation: “The day that Keith Stanford is no longer in the employ of Dobbin’s firm, call the loan.”"

"familiar with Stanford’s role, however, attributes a substantial portion of Dobbin’s success to Stanford’s unique talents. Newfoundlanders do not wear their heritage or their hearts on their sleeves, but their language and demeanour—Gaelic and open, devoid of any hint of intrigue—identify them with their deepest roots. Stanford expresses himself with warmth and humour, his words delivered in an accent as authentically Newfoundland as a school of cod."

"When Mercantile Bank finally withdrew, Stanford was free to handle Highland on his own, which was something of a mixed blessing. Dobbin’s properties remained heavily mortgaged and the firm stumbled from month to month, somehow managing to remain solvent. The situation remained relatively unchanged for much of the next twenty years. “Until just a few years before he died,” Keith Stanford explained, “Craig Dobbin was often asset rich and cash poor.” Dobbin was also, at this stage of the game, not universally liked or trusted. “You either loved or hated the guy,” Stanford said. Lenders and mortgage holders usually lined up on the obvious side of the border between affection and dislike, though others had negative views as well. “Some people asked me how I could work for that S.O.B.,” Stanford says, “telling me he didn’t pay his bills and had gone through many financial officers before I came along.” Dobbin, Stanford would counter, was no deadbeat. “He just refused to accept the financial restrictions other people placed on him.” Stanford shrugs. “He was, to be sure now, sometimes difficult and demanding.”"

"Fresh out of Memorial University with a bachelor of commerce degree in 1981, Stanford passed up an opportunity to earn a chartered accountancy degree by joining Highland Holdings Ltd., an umbrella firm encompassing all of Dobbin’s ventures except Sealand. Each time Dobbin launched a business he created a new corporation for it, held within Highland. The firm’s portfolio included a mix of real estate holdings and non-related businesses, a grab bag of ideas launched often impulsively from Craig Dobbin’s vision and ambition. Walking into Highland’s office on his first day of work in December 1981, Stanford found himself in the midst of financial and administrative chaos."

"On one occasion, Dobbin instructed Parsons to get a main rotor blade for a Super Puma from St. John’s to Ecuador within forty-eight hours. FedEx and its competitors had yet to achieve the unlimited global delivery service common today, making this more challenging than it may appear. The rotor blade, which measured eight metres in length, required special packaging and handling, and no chartered air transports were available. Parsons made arrangements to accompany the blade to Frankfurt on Air Canada, fly with it from there to Paris on Air France, and transfer to an overnight flight to Quito on Avianca Airlines. When Craig Dobbin called the day after handing Parsons the task, he was amazed to learn that both Parsons and the rotor blade were on the shipping dock in Ecuador."

"Keith Stanford’s talent for knowing what information the Chairman would need long before he requested it became something of a legend within cuc. Stanford kept details of relevant business matters in an overstuffed briefcase. One day, called into a meeting at which several coc managers were present, Dobbin began firing questions at him. With each question Stanford would respond, “I have it right here,” withdraw a document from his briefcase and hand it to the Chairman, much to the amazement of the helicopter people present. Finally, one of them called across the table at Stanford, “Would you happen to have an operations manual for a Sikorsky s-76? You've got damn near everything else in there!”"

"I consider myself a stage manager, somebody who can spot talented people, put them to work and let them do their job. CRAIG DOBBIN"

"Dobbin’s respect for Stanford became enormous, and he expressed it in various ways. In 2004, while liquidating many of his long-held properties in Newfoundland, Dobbin decided to retain one of his original apartment buildings on LaMarchant Road in St. John’s. Built in 1967 as the Bellevue Terrace Apartments, the building had undergone various changes over the years and was serving as a low-rent residence when Dobbin informed Stanford he wanted the complex converted to a hotel. Dobbin wasn’t interested in making a lot of money from the hotel business. “Basically,” explains Stanford, “he wanted a place to hang out.”"

"‘Today Baird is president of cuc global operations, dealing with top executives at ExxonMobil, Royal Dutch Shell and other mammoth corporations as well as heads of state throughout Europe, South America and Asia. From her Richmond, B.C., office she manages a team of 350 employees, many of them pilots and engineers g2 . unfamiliar with being directed by a female boss. Yet she commands the respect of everyone who encounters her within and beyond the corporation. Baird’s gratitude to Craig Dobbin for the opportunities and degree of support he gave her deepened through the years. Each time she appeared before the cuc board of directors to report on the activities and prospects of the firm’s global division, she ended her presentation with the statement: “By the way, I love the Chairman.”"

"On Monday, October 19, 1987, stock markets around the world suffered their largest one-day decline in history, shaking the faith of investors the world over. Many took years to fully recover their losses. CHC’s 1P0 was the last in Canada before Black Monday, and shares of the company that had been snatched up at $10 dropped within a week to $2.50. Had the 1P0 been delayed by two weeks, it clearly would have failed. John Lecky would have retained his company and the one million dollars, and Craig Dobbin would have withdrawn to St. John’s, devoting his time to paying down the massive mortgages on everything he owned. But the luck of the Irish kicked in. Instead, Dobbin’s credit was up to AAA, and his prospects were brighter than ever."

"Hurdles needed to be jumped. Pat Aldous had assumed that he would remain cEo of Okanagan as an independent corporation. No, Dobbin informed him, the two companies would be merged into one. In that case, Aldous proposed, he should be named cEo of the new company, since he held the top post in Okanagan. Again, no; J.C. Jones, who just a few years earlier had reported to Aldous, would serve as Aldous’s new boss. “Craig Dobbin was loyal to me,” Jones said. “He believed you went home from the dance with the person you came with.”"

"Craig Dobbin now operated what was by far the largest helicopter company in Canada and one of the five biggest companies of its kind in the world. At the end of September 1987, cHc’s accounts payable had been averaging almost twelve months in arrears. Shell Oil was threatening to cancel Dobbin’s personal and corporate credit, refusing to provide further products or services until the outstanding debts owed by him and Sealand were settled. By October 15, Sealand/cuc’s accounts payable had dropped to near zero, and Craig Dobbin’s personal bank balance was nudging $20 million."

"Every minute with Craig Dobbin-was better than an hour with the rest of the world—and certainly more fun. HARRY STEELE, chairman, Newfoundland Capital Corporation"

"It took the combined efforts of Robert Foster and Harry Steele to persuade Lecky even to meet with Dobbin. He agreed with some reluctance, insisting that he and Debbin reside in separate Calgary hotels during negotiations. “I want to buy your company,” Dobbin said when he and Lecky finally got together. As direct-as that. Lecky grinned as though Dobbin had just told him a mildly amusing story. “The way I hear it,” he replied, “you can’t write a cheque for more than a dollar without having it bounce.” Dobbin replied he was serious and asked Lecky to name a price. “Twenty-five million dollars cash,” Lecky said. Then, taking a page out of Len Rutledge’s playbook, he added: “Before we get started, I want a non-refundable deposit of one million dollars paid personally to me, and there is a sixty-day deadline for completing the deal. How does that sound?” If Lecky expected Dobbin to turn pale at the terms, he was disappointed. Assuring Lecky he would hear from him within a few days, Dobbin returned home to liquidate as many of his assets as it took to accumulate the million dollars. Whatever asset he owned that wasn’t mortgaged to the hilt and could find an eager buyer was put on the block. Craig Dobbin was pushing every poker chip he had into the centre of the table. A week after meeting Lecky, Dobbin dispatched a certified cheque for one million dollars to the Okanagan owner. “Let’s get it done,” Dobbin said in a follow-up phone call."

"a new competitor to enter the market. Craig Dobbin had foreseen the same advantage, of course, but selling the concept of creating a monopoly in an industry is a dangerous thing to do. McLeod Young Weir didn’t need to be sold; they got the message on their own. Joined by Richardson Greenshields, with Robert Foster’s Capital Canada acting as fiscal agent, an 1P0 was underwritten to fund a newly formed corporation named cuc (Canadian Helicopter Company) Helicopters."

"The dominant size of cuc enabled Dobbin to extend the company’s clout in the industry and acquire more competitors. By the . end of 1987, cHc had gathered fuel distributor Aero Flight Holdings Ltd. under its corporate wing, along with Offshore Helicopter Technologies Ltd., operator of a flight simulator facility in St. John’s. Early the following year cHc spent $9.7 million to purchase Ranger Helicopters Canada, highly regarded for its geological services, then topped off its acquisitions with Quebec-based Viking Helicopters in early 1989. Second only to cuc in size within Canada, Viking was Quebec-based, providing Dobbin and cue with a solid blanket of services across Canada. The once regional Sealand reigned supreme over helicopter services in Canada as cHc, with annual revenues approaching $100 million and Craig Dobbin being hailed as a genius financial strategist."

"The action of Bankers Trust, Jones believed, was akin to extortion, costing Sealand millions of dollars more than anticipated. But there was no backing out. He agreed to the higher interest rate, new terms were drafted, an agreement was signed, and the deal was completed. Craig Dobbin was furious over the actions of Bankers Trust, of course. In retrospect, however, the purchase of Toronto Helicopters proved a major step in transforming the company into a global powerhouse. With Toronto Helicopters rolled into Sealand and its cash flow solving many of Sealand’s liquidity concerns, Craig Dobbin’s eyes brightened at the prospect of the next step in expanding his company, this one even more audacious. One morning shortly after the deal to purchase Toronto Helicopters was completed, Craig Dobbin strolled into Robert Foster's Toronto office. “Robert,” he said, “I want you to get on a plane, fly to Calgary and buy Okanagan Helicopters for me.”"

"Dobbin began working on a deal to acquire Rutledge’s firm, turning to Robert Foster’s Capital Canada for assistance. To Foster, the purchase of Toronto Helicopters by Dobbin’s teetering-near-the-edge Sealand Helicopters made a good deal of sense. “Toronto Helicopters was very profitable, which meant it was paying a lot of taxes,” Foster points out, “and one way you value a company is against its aftertax income which, in this case, reduced its value to the seller.” Meanwhile, Sealand was losing money and recording substantial depreciation costs against its fleet of Super Puma aircraft, enabling Sealand to shelter Toronto’s enormous income free of tax."

"After spending time and effort on the ou1P pitch, Jones was dispirited when he broke news of the province’s rejection to Craig Dobbin, expecting the Sealand owner to abandon the idea. Dobbin, however, had a different response. “The hell with the contract,” he grinned. “Let’s buy the buggers out and we'll get the contract that way! We'll start with Toronto.” Buy them? Jones thought. What a crazy idea. Toronto Helicopters was comparable to Sealand in size, providing craft and pilots for a wide range of services beyond the ouIP contract. It was also a very profitable company. What’s more, John Lecky had been attempting to purchase Toronto from company president Len Rutledge for some time; each effort was turned down flat. Why should Rutledge look with favour on Sealand’s offer? One of Craig Dobbin’s most popular aphorisms was “Never take no for an answer,” and he instructed Jones to contact Rutledge, set up a meeting and arrange a deal. To Jones’s surprise, Rutledge’s response to his request for a meeting was, “Sure, let’s talk.”"

"more sanguine. “Look,” he said to J.C. when they were settled in their hotel, a glass of Jameson in his hand, “we can’t pay them now and we won't be able to pay them for a while. Someday, sure. But not right away. So let’s not try to hand them some bullshit story about giving us another break or promising to be good little boys and go back home and work on our cash flow. Because it ain’t gonna work. Not with that crew.”"

"that it couldn’t ignore Aerospatiale’s concern about continuing to provide parts and support without payment, especially when so much money remained outstanding for the purchase of the Super Pumas. The two sides agreed on a plan of repayment that met both their needs, and Sealand continued its operations. It was classic Craig Dobbin, this rolling the dice with everything on the table, and he would repeat the action over and over again in the coming years."

"Foster tapped str Canada, the local arm of Bankers Trust in New York, as a funding source, and on behalf of Sealand he began negotiations with Len Rutledge to purchase Toronto Helicopters. According to Foster, the negotiations grew complicated because of Rutledge’s apparently endless demands. “We would reach an agreement and get ready to sign off,” Foster says, “and Len would say, ‘Oh, there’s one more thing, and we'd have to deal with that.” Rutledge kept raising issues each time Foster believed they had a deal until, within a day or two of the final deadline, he said again to Foster, “Oh, there’s just one more thing.” “Len,” Foster replied, “I’ll do this ‘one more thing, but if there’s anything else I’m going to advise Craig Dobbin to just walk away and forget everything.” The “one more thing” this time turned out to be the purchase of Rutledge’s Mercedes-Benz. Foster agreed, and negotiations were completed. Sealand was about to purchase its larger rival, leaving Sealand with a sweat-generating 27:1 debt-toequity ratio."

"In Dobbin’s eyes, the risk of Aerospatiale shutting down Sealand was nil. The machines were about to sit uninsured and unprotected in locations around the world without pilots to ferry them to France or Texas. The prospect of Aerospatiale selling the machines at better than fire-sale prices to anyone else within a short time was not good; in exchange for taking Sealand’s debts off its books, Aerospatiale would acquire an inventory of a dozen used machines, perhaps with operational problems and with no immediate buyers. Dobbin’s decision to walk was hardly risk-free, however. Without the Super Pumas, Sealand was certain to lose its offshore petroleum contracts, and Aerospatiale could apply sufficient legal pressure to shut down Sealand entirely if it chose."

"In 1985 yet another crisis arose to challenge Craig Dobbin’s determination to succeed. In a perfect storm of adversity, offshore petroleum exploration and production around the world plummeted, and the federal government cancelled a package of incentive programs. Both events occurred just after Sealand placed an order committing it to accept delivery of six new Super Puma craft from Aerospatiale and purchase an additional six in the near future. Almost overnight, too many helicopter service operations began chasing too few contracts, creating an unprecedented buyer’s market. Less than two years earlier, Sealand was winning bids of $240,000 per month to supply one Super Puma and crew; now they were being asked to provide the same service at $99,000, with a second Super Puma as backup."

"Responding to a direct summons, Dobbin and Jones travelled south to Aerospatiale’s North American office, expecting to negotiate terms for future payments in a businesslike atmosphere. Instead, they encountered a herd of hostile executives and angry lawyers determined to wring money from Sealand with all the finesse of a Texas posse in pursuit of outlaws. “They talked to us like we were a couple of schoolboys catching hell in the principal's office,” Jones remembers. “They weren't polite, they weren’t accommodating, they weren’t even businesslike. They considered us a couple of dummies from Canada who owed them money and weren’t paying them.” One lawyer repeatedly challenged Jones, growing ruder with every effort Jones made to explain the situation. Referring to Jones and Dobbin as idiots and crooks, the lawyer interrupted every utterance from Jones with a fresh insult and accusation."

"Craig Dobbin proved as skillful a negotiator with helicopter 62 companies as he was with banks and financiers. Bell Helicopter considered Dobbin outstanding in this respect. “The president of Bell told me that Craig Dobbin was the best negotiator he had ever seen,” Harry Steele says, “because Craig was always ready to double the bet on ‘the last roll of the dice. The people at Bell admired him for that.”"

"All attempts to present Sealand’s case were made by Jones. Craig 64 Dobbin sat quiet and unsmiling. He let the Sealand president absorb the verbal abuse during several minutes of Aerospatiale’s harangue, then interrupted another of the lawyer's diatribes by standing up and raising his hand. “I’ve had it up to here with you people,” he said when the lawyer sputtered to silence. “You want your helicopters back, here’s where they are.” He began waving his arms, directing the Aerospatiale’s team towards appropriate points of the compass. “There are three parked deep in the Amazon jungle, two more up on Baffin Island, two in St. John’s and three in Africa. You want ‘em, you go and get ’em. But I’m cutting off the insurance on them, bringing my pilots home, moving the helicopters out of the hangars, and you can forget about maintenance. So go get your helicopters. We're going home. Let’s go, J.C.” Without even a glance back, Dobbin stalked out of the board room, J.C. Jones at his heels."

"On the return flight to Newfoundland, Jones assumed the deal was dead before it was born. Rutledge was not prepared to accept empty promises. He had told J ones, in effect, that when the $500,000 was deposited in Rutledge’s account, they would talk. Until then, nothing was going to happen. In St. John’s, Jones broke the news to Dobbin, who pondered the situation for a moment, then shrugged and said, “So pay him the half-million out of our operating line,” meaning the million-dollar credit arrangement Sealand had with rp Bank to cover the firm’s day-to-day expenses. Jones protested they couldn't do that. Tp granted the credit to pay for salaries, rent, fuel and other expenses, not to spend it on acquisitions. The bank would never approve giving half of Sealand’s entire line of credit to Rutledge just to open negotiations. Besides, reducing their access to available cash by 50 per cent would leave Sealand in a difficult position when it came to paying its bills. Dobbin’s response was familiar to Jones by now. “Screw the bankers,” he said. “Let’s do it.”"