There aren’t enough people in the world like Simon, and I was fortunate to have him as my colleague during a pivotal point in my career for which I am so grateful. Simon and I worked closely together at OPIS on the imaginatively labelled ‘OPIS European middle distillates report’, which focused heavily on vessel-tracking and the collation of shipping data for jet fuel, diesel and gasoil. He knew middle distillates, shipping, and oil trading; I knew about shipping and how to write. We made a great team and most importantly, we had fun. In the workplace Simon was a thoroughly decent good bloke. Nobody had to watch their back with Simon. He was trustworthy, loyal, generous with his time, with his knowledge, with his contacts. Just an all-round gentleman. We need to be surrounded by more ‘Simons’ in corporate life. People who say what they mean, and you know will always have your back when things get tough. Our jobs were home-based when such a concept hadn't been popularised by the pandemic. Before OPIS was purchased by IHS, the company used to hold annual retreats for the European team. They were great team-bonding trips. Sadly OPIS was never the same after IHS bought it. Corporate 'Hunger Games' became the norm and when it was my turn to be targeted I’ll never forget the support that Simon showed me. I've not worked with a person demonstrating such values since. I’d often drive from my home in Surrey to Simon’s converted barn outside Winchester to work alongside him during the day when we had an important project on, and then go to the pub afterwards. He was a much treasured local. We did a few IP weeks together and one International Shipping Week. I was left with an expenses bill of £600 for after-dinner drinks with the port of Gibraltar and a few other traders after a particularly memorable black-tie dinner at which he was the lift of the party. Simon was an EXCELLENT cook and took to catering like a duck to water. He gave me my love for celeriac (a vegetable this Australian hadn’t encountered until I met him) and going around his place for dinner was something to look forward to. We’d book the pub nearby to stay overnight and then head out to be wined and dined by Simon, the consummate host. Sadly, I didn’t meet all of Simon’s three children, but I heard all about them frequently. I hope they take comfort in the fact he loved them very much and was so proud of them all. He will be much missed.

Dear Simon, I only knew you for about 2 years, principally in your capacity as an enthusiastic and skilled player of lawn bowls. You were welcoming to me as a newbie at the Woodstock club, always friendly, always happy to join in banter and always ready to propose variations on the game at enjoyable social events in the sunshine. Our conversations revealed something of the entrepreneur in you - you spoke once of getting involved in catering and more recently I was interested to learn of progress with your project involving a new fuel additive, building on your experience as an oil trader. Like my colleagues at the bowling club, I was shocked to hear that you had been taken from us so unexpectedly. We will all miss you; I for one will now interpret a roll of thunder as you playing a winning shot on that green in the skies! Rest in peace, Nick and Sarah

Simon, you have been in my thoughts particularly in the last few weeks. I remember our child and early adulthood with fondness and fortune. The family parties, the swimming pool, the snooker table, the train set, the generosity of your family but most of all sharing time with you. I hope the universe takes good care of you “bog brush” you are a beautiful man inside and out!!