There are very fine lines between madness, bravery and stupidity...

There are very fine lines between madness, bravery and stupidity. Generally, those lines are defined by our own feelings of mortality, the fear of looking the Grim Reaper in the eye, or simply the lack of imagination required to do things that other people won?t. But there?s a nagging thought: is there also a little ?something? hidden deep within us that enables us to do remarkable things if we really, really have to.

When I got into a raceboat a couple of weeks ago with Steve Curtis (four-times Class 1 Champion) at the throttles, was that brave, stupid or just mad? In my opinion it was none of those things, but other people have said that I was probably mad, brave and stupid. Having spent the past 15 years doing mad/brave/stupid things for a living, which have so far cost me a dozen broken bones and a collapsed lung, getting in a raceboat with a consummate professional seems only mildly scary.

But what were Alan Priddy, Steve Lloyd and Clive Tully thinking of when they set out to circumnavigate the globe in a 33ft (10.3m) RIB with barely enough funding to get them home? Now that?s brave. And a little mad perhaps. We talk to Alan and his crew about their harrowing experiences aboard Spirit of Cardiff as they attempted to break Cable & Wireless Adventurer?s record. There were plenty who tutted and said that they were foolhardy ? but that?s not the point (it was foolhardy to climb Everest wearing a tweed suit, but people did just that). To me, it was a feat of immense bravery ? having made the decision to do it, Alan and his crew then faced day after day after day of hardship and suffering.

If Steve Curtis had stuffed the raceboat we were in it would have been momentarily terrifying. What Alan and his crew had to put up with was a hundred times worse because it was relentless rather than momentary. They battled impossible odds, facing fear and pain constantly for several months.

That?s what I call bravery.