Sir Ranulph Fiennes: The Man Behind the Legend

In November 1999 Sir Ranulph Fiennes gave a promotional lecture in Stafford’s Gatehouse theatre on behalf of the Royal Geographical Society.  After the lecture, as he signed a copy of his latest book for me, I told him that my daughter, Anna, had recently started working at the Royal Geographical Society in London, but that she was late taking up her appointment, because she had suffered a ruptured appendix while leading a group of young people across a glacier in Kyrgyzstan.  To my surprise, he said he had already heard about the incident, but hadn’t known who the young woman was.  Anna was to get to know him really well over the following years.  Through her I was to meet and correspond with him many more times.

Whenever there was a special function on at the RGS, Anna invited her dad and me to attend.  One evening was devoted to present-day explorers and adventurers. Sir Ranulph (‘Ran’ to his friends) was one of four speakers, all friends of Anna’s through her involvement in adventure racing.  After the talks Anna introduced me to Ran. ‘However did you produce such a magnificent creature!’ he exclaimed.

Those words endeared him to me as much as any of his great exploits did.  I came to know him as a courteous, friendly and pleasant man, who put other people at ease.  Tall, handsome, with a bemused expression in his eyes, he looked the aristocrat that he was, but there were no airs and graces about him.  He shook my hand warmly.  I was excited being introduced to the man described in the Guinness Book of Records as ‘the world’s greatest living explorer’.  Since I have enthusiastically supported my daughter’s adventurous life, I have enjoyed hitherto undreamed-of experiences, and met many wonderful people like Ran and Conrad Anker.  I have sometimes gingerly sampled activities like rock-climbing and kayaking, skiing and show-shoeing, horse-riding and cycling - exciting new adventures for someone as timid as I am.  

My first impressions of Ran were confirmed on future occasions.  Twice a year a competition called ‘Tough Guy’ is run near Wolverhampton.  It is an 8-mile obstacle course, described as the hardest mass competition event in the world.  In January 2002, Anna and lots of her friends, including Ran, were taking part.  On the Saturday night I entertained 20 of them to dinner, and 18 slept overnight in my two-bedroomed bungalow!  Ran drove up from Exmoor early next morning and arrived as everyone was ready to sit down to breakfast.  He greeted us warmly and, with a twinkle in his eye, announced that he had been flashed by a speed camera on the road into Cannock.  Speed cameras are no respecters of persons! 

I brought in a dish of sausages straight from the oven and, as I was about to put it down on the table, Ran took it in his bare hands.  I uttered an involuntary, ‘Don’t.  It’s red hot.’  Then I noticed his missing fingers.  He didn’t seem to feel any pain.  Anna later told me that he had sawn them off himself because of frostbite.  By 9 o’clock they were all on their way to the race venue.  Ran was first back in the afternoon, caked in mud from head to toe.  I knew he had an appointment for 5 o’clock in Slimbridge Wildfowl Park, so I gave him a towel and showed him where the shower was.  As he emerged from the bathroom, he handed me the towel and it was no longer white but muddy brown!  He looked abashed as he apologised, but I assured him the washing machine would sort it out.  He was working on his book, ‘Captain Scott’, at the time, and the person he was going to see was Lady Scott, so I wondered if she would spot any muddy residue!  In 2009 I met him again at the Great Outdoors Show in the NEC and he told me that the shower hadn’t worked that time back in 2002!  I hadn’t thought to switch it on by the door or to show him how.  What he didn’t tell me was that he was about to set out for his second attempt on Everest!  That was a well-kept secret till he had actually reached the summit successfully.

Three days after the Tough Guy Race in 2002 a very impressive envelope, addressed to me, arrived by post.  It intrigued me, as it was posted in Inverness, and bore the crest of the Carnegie Club, but my name and address were hand-written.  It was from Ran, and in it he thanked me for giving him such a delicious breakfast and for letting him get rid of the mud.  He said that one day he would like to watch that race, as the antics of runners falling off ropes, slipping in mud and getting cramp must be better than a comedy show.  (I can’t quite imagine him as a spectator, rather than a participant!)  Then he paid tribute to Anna and wished her well in her future projects.  He also thanked me on behalf of the others who had been my guests that weekend.  The art of writing such delightful ‘thank you’ letters has all but died out and that letter is one I shall treasure.  It says so much about the gentleman Ran is.

One day the terrible message came that he had suffered a severe heart attack as he boarded a plane at Bristol for Scotland.  The story of his amazing recovery after a double by-pass has been widely publicised.  When he set out with Dr Mike Stroud on their 7 Marathons in 7 days on 7 Continents in October 2003, I saw a new side to Ran – his charitable work.  Money raised would go to the British Heart Foundation.  I followed their progress through the Times newspaper, and added my messages of goodwill.  My e-mail congratulating Ran received a personal reply of thanks.

Another shock awaited us.  I never met Ran’s first wife, Ginny, but I had heard their love story many times and I felt that Ginny was a very special kind of person.  Anna rang me from London one day that November. Ran had just told her that Ginny was dying of cancer.  In 1984 I had been diagnosed with advanced cancer of the colon with slight chance of recovery.  Recalling the anguish, the pain, the fear, and the sense of helplessness, as I faced the possibility of my death, my heart went out to Ginny, so I sent an e-mail to Gina, Ran’s secretary.  Gina phoned me immediately and asked me how I found out about Ginny, as Ran had wanted the news to be kept secret.  Anna and I explained 

In September 2004 my husband, Mike, and I received an invitation from Ran to a celebration of Ginny’s life, to be held at the RGS, and there were over 600 people there.  I knew that if I spoke to Ran I would burst into tears, so I let Mike speak on my behalf while I introduced myself to Gina.

In 2005 Ran attempted to summit Everest and almost succeeded.  Once again, I followed his progress through the Times and sent him an e-mail to congratulate him on achieving so much.  The money raised went to the BHF. 

In May 2006, Anna led a successful expedition across Greenland’s ice-cap with the aim of opening up wilderness travel to severely handicapped people.  Ran generously gave his backing to the team by agreeing to be their patron.  I was the Team Support and PR person.  Anna had originally planned to head straight from Greenland to the US to take part, with Ran, in Primal Quest - one of the world’s hardest expedition races.  I was worried about this, but, as it happened, firstly, Ran, and then another team member, had to pull out, so the whole team withdrew.

I have the greatest of admiration for people like Ran who achieve so much that most of us would consider impossible, and I feel proud and grateful that our paths have crossed.   Whenever I am despondent or in pain, I think of him and of Anna and of all the other adventurers whom I have met through her, and the word that comes constantly to mind is ‘Endurance’.  Although I am too old to climb mountains, or trudge across ice-caps, or toil through jungles in person, I can do so in spirit, and I can continue to take an interest in and offer support to Anna and her fellow-adventurers.