52 Sundays in 2025.

Not 51. Not 50. Every single one.

Sunday Compass turned one year old in May. By then, I'd already published 52 consecutive editions without missing a single Sunday. And I kept going. Another 52 weeks. Another 52 Sundays.

That's over 80 editions since I hit "send" on the first one back on May 19, 2024.

When I started, I had no idea if anyone would read it. I didn't know if I'd make it past week 5. I didn't know if the maritime industry would care about what I had to say.

But here we are. A year and a half later. Over 80 consecutive Sundays. Not perfect editions. Not viral every week. But consistent. Present. Real.

This is what happened when I didn't stop.

Sunday Compass grew over 400% this year. More readers. More reach. More conversations.

But the real milestone wasn't a number. It was consistency. 52 weeks. Zero missed Sundays. Even when I didn't feel like it. Even when the ideas weren't flowing. Even when engagement was quiet.

The breakthrough moment came with the MSC edition. Over 30,000 impressions. People from MSC shared it. Readers I didn't know started subscribing. Messages came in. It felt like all the hours spent writing, researching, and second-guessing finally clicked.

That edition changed the trajectory. After that, everything shifted.

I also did something that terrified me: I launched The SC Talks.

Three interviews. Nick Chubb, Steven Jones, and Steve Ferreira. Every single one pushed me out of my comfort zone. The technical setup. Wondering if my questions were good enough. Classic impostor syndrome.

But I did them anyway.

The first one with Nick gave me a high I didn't expect. That feeling of "I actually did this" carried me through the fear of the next ones. Steve Ferreira's interview was fascinating—his work, his perspective, the way he thinks about the industry. It reminded me why I started this in the first place.

I used to think—and say publicly—that the maritime sector was old-school, slow to innovate, stuck in outdated ways.

Then Nick Chubb challenged me on it during our SC Talk.

He disagreed. Not defensively, but thoughtfully. He explained that maritime absolutely innovates—it's just not as flashy or elegant as tech or consumer products. The innovations happen in engine efficiency, fuel systems, port automation, logistics optimization. Things that don't make TechCrunch headlines but move billions of dollars of cargo more efficiently every year.

He was right. I changed my mind.

That conversation reminded me that sometimes the loudest voices in an industry aren't the most accurate. And sometimes, the work that matters most is the work nobody sees.

I've heard this phrase a thousand times. Everyone says it. It's a productivity cliché at this point.

But living it for 52 weeks straight taught me what it actually means.

Perfection isn't a starting point. It's something you develop by practicing. By publishing when you're not ready. By putting your name on something that could be better but is good enough for today.

Some of my editions were great. Some were fine. A few were probably forgettable. But they all got sent. And the ones I'm most proud of now? I wouldn't have been able to write them in May 2024. I got there by not stopping.

LinkedIn is full of people selling "content creation secrets" like it's some magical shortcut to success.

Here's the reality: creating valuable content is hard. It takes hours. Research. Writing. Rewriting. Doubting yourself. Deleting entire drafts. Starting over.

If you want to do it well—if you actually want to deliver something people remember—you can't hack your way around the work. You just have to do it.

This year reinforced something I underestimated: relationships in the corporate world aren't just nice-to-haves. They're everything.

The colleagues who supported Sunday Compass from the start. The readers who took time to write me an email (not many, but enough to matter). The people who shared an edition or told me they found value in something I wrote.

Those moments kept me going when the numbers didn't.

Business isn't transactional. It's relational. And the better you are at building real connections—not just LinkedIn followers—the further you'll go.

Early in 2025, I thought publishing maritime news and quick updates would help Sunday Compass grow faster.

It didn't.

I quickly realized I wasn't adding unique value. If I was just summarizing what Lloyd's List or TradeWinds already covered, why would anyone read me? And worse—those editions had a shelf life of about a week. After that, they were irrelevant.

I wanted to build something different. A hemeroteca—an archive of timeless analysis. Content that someone subscribing in 2027 could still find valuable.

So I stopped chasing news. I started building depth.

I won't sugarcoat this: there were many Sundays where I thought, Why am I doing this? Is anyone even reading? Does this matter?

The metrics weren't moving. Engagement was quiet. Some weeks felt like shouting into a void.

But I kept coming back to one idea: this is a long game. One visitor, one recommendation, one subscriber could change everything. My job isn't to predict the outcome—it's to do the work and trust the process.

Steve Jobs said it best: "You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards."

I couldn't see where Sunday Compass was going when I started in May 2024. Even by January 2025, the path wasn't clear. I can only see it now, looking back at over 80 Sundays. And the only reason there's a path at all is because I kept walking.

Early in 2025, I wanted to be on every platform. LinkedIn, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube—reach as many people as possible, right?

Wrong.

I spread myself too thin. I wasn't clear on what content worked where. I didn't have the time or focus to do any of it well.

So I made a decision: LinkedIn first. Master one platform where my audience actually is. Get that right. Then, maybe, expand later.

Turns out, focus beats distribution every time.

The first few emails from readers. Not a flood—just a handful. But each one mattered more than any metric.

People taking the time to write and say, "I appreciate what you're doing." That's fuel.

I discovered Beehiiv Recommendations this year. The ability to recommend other newsletters I genuinely find valuable—and be recommended by them—has been one of the best growth levers I've found.

It's not about gaming algorithms. It's about supporting good work and being supported in return. That kind of reciprocity works.

I finally read Atomic Habits by James Clear. Yes, I know—everyone's read it. But there's a reason it's everywhere.

It's not a magic hack. It's not some secret productivity trick. It's a book that reaffirms good practices, strips away societal BS, and gives you practical, simple frameworks with fantastic examples.

I listened to the audiobook. Then decided to buy the physical copy so I can revisit it. That's how good it is.

I also started listening to three new podcasts focused on leadership, communication, and providing better value:

These aren't maritime-specific, but they've made me better at what I do. Better leader. Better communicator. Better thinker.

This year, life threw a few reminders my way about what actually matters.

Your health. Your people. Your mental state.

We like to think we're strong. That our minds are unbreakable. But the truth is, the mind is more fragile than we admit. If you don't actively work to stay mentally healthy—if you don't find reasons to keep pushing forward—things fall apart fast.

So I kept Sunday Compass as one of those reasons. A commitment to myself. A habit that forced me to think, create, and show up even when I didn't feel like it.

When I started Sunday Compass in May 2024, I couldn't predict where it would go. I had no idea MSC would explode. I didn't know I'd do SC Talks. I didn't know 400%+ growth was possible in one year.

I just knew I had to start. And then keep going.

Steve Jobs was right. You can't connect the dots looking forward. You can only connect them looking backward. So I stopped trying to predict the future. I focused on doing the work. Trusting that one day, when I looked back, the path would make sense.

Over 80 Sundays later, it's starting to.

If you've read Sunday Compass this year—thank you.

If you've written me an email, shared an edition, or just hit reply once—thank you.

If you're reading this right now, thinking about starting something of your own but hesitating—start. Don't wait for the perfect moment. Just begin. Then keep going.

Happy holidays. Enjoy the time with your people. Rest. Recharge.

And I'll see you on the other side in 2026.

Let's keep the work and make it even better.

Cheers,

Fernando