What price heroes?

We can't all be heroes

In 1996, 1997 and again in 1998, relays of more than 50 sufferers of multiple sclerosis boarded the 37 foot catamaran Multiple Challenge to take their places for a week's crewing each round the coast of Britain. It will happen again in 1999 in a new boat being built on the success of the previous challenges. To say these people were brave is pifflingly inadequate. It's hard enough to stand on deck in a force 6, let alone do anything. And with the added burden of muscles that often simply refuse to work, what these people did was nothing short of heroic.

In 1997, while Multiple Challenge was cruising, or often bashing, round Britain's glorious coastline, Alan Priddy with a crew of three was setting out from Portsmouth, New Hampshire to cross the North Atlantic via Nova Scotia, Greenland, Iceland and Ireland in a 7.5 metre rigid inflatable boat, Spirit of Portsmouth. The crossing was arduous and often almost disastrous - so arduous that one of the crew could not complete it. But the achievement was enough to get Alan Priddy nominated for Yachtsman of the Year. The Prime Minister wrote to him: 'Your achievement is a tribute to your skill, dedication and bravery, and is in the finest traditions of British exploration'.

These two largely unsung events have something else in common - while first may seem the ultimate in non-defeatism, and the latter the ultimate in self-indulgence, in reality they had their most important factor in common: charity. Charity is an old-fashioned word, but as a concept is constantly being updated. Most people could be said to be charitable, but usually it takes events of extraordinary proportions to remind people of the constant needs of those less fortunate than most. Over the years it has been running, Multiple Challenge, an offshoot of the Multiple Sclerosis Society, has raised a huge amount of money. Alan Priddy, by his almost annual daring exploits, has too - rumoured to be in excess of a million dollars.

It would be odious to draw a comparison between the sacrifice of an individual multiple sclerosis sufferer on board Multiple Challenge, and Alan Priddy short of fuel and locked out of Greenland by unseasonal ice - they are both amazing. And even more amazing in that they were all unselfish acts where every individual set himself or herself a target which was by no means easy or even possible to achieve.

But there is an even more important reason why these people are heroes, and it's this: they don't want charity at all. They don't want hand-outs. They want to earn the help they receive. They try not to solicit contributions by making people feel guilty - rather, they want to feel they have contributed. And contribute they have. Many of them are still paying for their contributions, financially and physically.

There is a distinction between the crews of Multiple Challenge on the one hand, and Alan Priddy on the other. It's not fitness, or bravery. It is motive. Alan will be the first to admit that the adventure comes first, and the benefits to charity are a bonus - that if there were no charitable benefit, he would still do it. He has no need of charity himself, and that's why he is a real hero - the extra effort to make the benefits to charity happen is something he just does automatically. It's a lesson for us all. A shining example. He does it, not because he needs to, not because a savage illness reminds him of it every day, but because it needs doing. And that's the definition, in my book, of a true hero.

There will always be a need for such heroes, whether sung or unsung. For every hero there will be thousands who will exalt them. I am happy to be one of the latter - I tried a week on Multiple Challenge, as a helper, and because I was writing a book about it; it was an adventure, but I didn't like being cold or wet, and especially not both at once.

So there are heroes, and the rest of us give money. That's a lot easier. It's also much more practical. We cannot all go out and do extraordinary things - for a start there wouldn't be enough room on the sea if we did. More importantly, the fewer people who take on these challenges the better, because every heroic challenge is a dilution of the funds available from the populace.

But what I find most extraordinary of all is that national TV and radio, unable presumably to cope with more than one news story a day, all but ignore heroes, except when there is something negative to report.

Given that heroes are rare, and perform an essential function, why don't they get national attention? I've heard the argument that these events don't have much point because people will give anyway, once they know the predicament of others. That view may be shared by the national media - I don't know. I don't think it's the case, though - most people are too busy to notice anything but the most extraordinary. And it's a sad irony that charity is the first to suffer when national economy is stretched as it has been for at least the past decade, and that's when charity is most needed. So we need heroes to keep bringing this to the fore. And heroes need national attention.

So what price heroes? Whatever you can afford. Please give generously. They earn every penny. But don't just give money, or buy books or merchandise. Give them what they really need - recognition - bombard TV and radio companies with requests for information and they must eventually succumb to demand and give heroes the coverage they deserve. That, more than anything else, will keep them going and encourage new heroes to follow them.

(I wrote 'Beating the Big One' and Challenge, the story of Multiple Challenge - see Bookshop)

© Tony Holkham 1998

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