In conversation with Sam Strivens
Alumni Sam talks about harnessing – and witnessing – the ocean’s power
“The first I knew something was really wrong was when a beanbag flew past my face.” Many things stir memories of key life events. A sound, a smell, an object. For Sam Strivens, it’s a beanbag.
As we stroll into one of the cafes on the University campus, one catches his eye. “I hadn’t thought about it for a while until today,” he continues. “I was part of a crew sailing across the Atlantic and we got caught up in a series of severe storms. I wasn’t on deck at the time, and things were suddenly flying everywhere. It was one of the only occasions when I really thought my time might be up.”
Sam’s entire life has been dominated by water. His first experiences on it came at the age of four, in the somewhat more genteel surroundings of the River Dart. He sailed smaller boats to begin with, then slowly building in size. At 16, still at school, he got a job on board a classic yacht owned by a London businessman. Used by the owner for family holidays, it was put to sail in races along the south coast and across the English Channel. For a teenage Sam, part of a small crew on board, it opened up a world of possibility.
Those thoughts were to some extent put on hold while he was at university. Already holding a considerable passion for renewable technologies, he enrolled to study Exploration and Resource Geology in Cardiff. And while he loved the course – including the placement it offered him in the Sahara Desert – graduating just as a global recession took hold was not ideal for someone with aspirations to work in the energy sector.
“I needed a stopgap,” Sam says. “A friend asked me to join his crew for a transatlantic sailing race. We were on the water for three weeks with no internet, and almost no communication with the outside world. It was just what I needed.”
That voyage concluded in Antigua. With superyachts aplenty moored up within a week Sam had secured another crewing job that ultimately lasted 18 months. Further roles followed, the upshot being that over the next decade, Sam experienced almost every corner of the world’s ocean. The remoteness of Vanuatu. The beauty of America’s East Coast. The vibrant sailing communities of the Mediterranean and the Caribbean.
I already loved the ocean. But it made me realise just how amazing it and what it means to people. I also learned the different ways it is important to communities all over the world. That is something I have carried forward into everything I’ve done since.
Fast forward to the present day. Almost a decade after Sam left the world of superyachts, and its occasional flying beanbags, he is overlooking a very different body of water. The
Marine Building ’s Ocean Basin extends beneath us, as tests run on a prototype renewable energy device. The hydraulic paddles at one end of the tank are in constant, rhythmical motion. At the other, a deep boom coincides with the water’s departure from the tank.
The experience, even for those who have seen it played out many times, is somewhat hypnotic. But Sam got to see it at closer quarters than most while studying for his
MSc Offshore Renewable Energy . Having witnessed the power of the ocean from the decks of boats, his focus had switched to looking for ways to harness it. And as he watches the waves from the balcony, it is clear the Ocean Basin has lost none of its fascination.
“This place brings back a lot of happy memories,” he says. “Some nights we were in here until 9 or 10pm. They were great times. I always love coming back here.”
In 2014, Sam had decided he needed a little more stability than a life on the ocean could offer. Some university friends had set up a company operating crew transfer vessels servicing offshore wind farms. It was a subject that had always interested him, so he – continuing the aquatic theme – took the plunge. Shifting from a nomadic lifestyle – that saw him splitting time between the UK, California and his yacht owner’s voyages – he and his family planted roots in south Devon.
The next three years were spent making regular trips to the North West of England, where his new employers were based. But he then decided he wanted a formal qualification to strengthen his renewable career ambitions. The MSc in Plymouth was the perfect option, and so began the long hours in the Marine Building. His thesis was based around the performance of turbines in ocean settings. But his time in Plymouth gave him far more than simply practical experience.
I particularly remember a lecture from Professor Daniel Conley, he reminded us that if we were siting a device in the ocean, and tethering it to the seabed, there were going to be ecological impacts and maybe also disturbance for boats too.
It’s something I always have at the front of my mind in my current work.
Within weeks of graduating from his masters, Sam started work with The Carbon Trust. Five years later, he heads up its floating offshore wind and maritime decarbonisation activities. In his words, “anything floating on water that comes to the Carbon Trust tends to end up on my desk”. It allows him to combine aspects of engineering, environmental protection, policy influence and stakeholder engagement.
The variety is part of the appeal. But working directly in such an emerging and complex sector brings with it considerable challenges. For many, that will come as no surprise. Three months prior to our conversation, the UK Government’s Contract for Difference (CfD) auction attracted no submissions from the offshore wind sector. In spite of this, in December the Crown Estate, which owns the UK’s seabed, launched its latest leasing round for floating offshore wind sites in the Celtic Sea. The goal is to create up to 4.5GW of new renewable energy capacity, and coming years will prove whether that ambition is realistic.
For his part, and without overstating matters, Sam’s role has the potential to be transformational. In the UK, he is working with organisations such as the Crown Estate and Department for Energy Security and Net Zero to explore how best to deliver a floating offshore wind revolution that will at the same time enhance local and national infrastructure.
He is also working with authorities, agencies and local stakeholders in Japan, the United States and elsewhere as they look to grow their floating offshore markets.
“It can sometimes sound like a bold claim, but the UK is ahead of the game globally when it comes to floating offshore wind,” Sam says. “However, the industry generally is at a very different stage to other forms of offshore renewables. What we are currently experiencing is a phase of development and derisking. We need to move into a phase of commercial expansion and deployment.”
Sam’s informed view is that things are moving in the right direction, albeit not as swiftly as some might wish. And if that progress continues, he is confident floating offshore wind can make a significant contribution to the Government’s net zero 2050 ambitions. The wind is there, he says, and the ocean conditions are right. But unlike the electricity it will ultimately generate, transforming the sector will not come at the flick of a switch.
Sam’s links to the University are still strong. He regularly makes the trip to Plymouth to meet up with fellow graduates from the MSc programme. He is also part of the industry advisory board for the
Supergen ORE programme, which the University has been leading since it was first launched in 2018. That includes regular visits to the University, and discussions with its researchers. The Carbon Trust has provided data for an ongoing research project being supported through the Supergen programme.
Despite his incredibly busy schedule, Sam’s love for South Devon is abundantly obvious. Despite spending much of his working time in London, he still finds time to sail out of Dartmouth.
There is, to some degree, a wonderful synergy in the fact that he is leading the charge to harness the ocean’s power having spent more than three decades enjoying its benefits. The next three decades could be even more critical, with world leaders making commitments to be net-zero by 2050.
For Sam, that date offers both a personal and professional target.
“I often joke with people that my statutory retirement date will be around 2050. Between now and then, I will be working hard to help achieve international targets. If we can get there, it feels like a great legacy. And, at that point, I’d be happy to live out my days sailing out of South Devon just as I’ve done ever since I was a child.”
