Mud, Sweat and Tears

by Bear Grylls

It means that my family can just get on with the business of living, without too much hassle at home.

  What it is like for us abroad is almost my family’s little secret.

  It is because of the programmes’ global reach that I do, though, experience so many weird, disconcerting moments.

  Like being in some far-flung small village in the tip end of the Borneo jungle, and finding that the little barefoot kids running around from wooden shack to wooden shack know exactly who I am.

  Hardly a TV in sight.

  Dan, one of our cameramen, says it never fails to make him smile, as I wander on blissfully unaware. But I remind myself that this monster is not of my doing – it is purely the power of television.

  And there is so much of it that I struggle to understand.

  One thing I am clear on, though, is why the show Man vs. Wild has been so successful.

  I consider it is down to the magic three: good fortune, an amazing team and a willingness to risk it all.

  My magic trio.

  There is no doubt that good fortune and blessed timing have been at the heart of why the programme has worked.

  All too often I meet extraordinarily talented people: whether they are world-class climbers, champion skydivers or survival-bushcraft gurus.

  Invariably, they are more skilled than me – and, annoyingly, often better-looking and more muscled to boot!

  And, if the truth be told, they could all probably do my job better than me, as well.

  So how come I get to do it?

  I got lucky.

  I got given a privileged platform to express myself, make my mistakes, learn and improve.

  In turn, as the seasons of the show have progressed, so has my confidence in what I do. That counts for a lot.

  Along the way, though, the show has come close to being axed on multiple occasions. New execs; new directives; new demands.

  Any of these could have resulted in an axing. But it hung in there, ratings grew, and before I knew it we were part of people’s vocabulary and consciousness. That takes time – but when, and if, it happens, it all then becomes simpler.

  Let me explain.

  When a TV show starts out, it is incredibly competitive: maybe one in a hundred TV ideas goes on to get made into pilot (tester) episodes. Maybe one in twenty of those pilots will go on to have a first series commissioned. And maybe one in ten of those will be asked back for a second season.

  It takes a sprinkling of fairy dust and a lot of goodwill.

  But do two seasons and you will quite probably go on to do five – or more.

  So we got lucky. No doubt. And I never even asked for it. Let alone expected it.

  I was simply, and blissfully, unaware.

  But on this journey, Man vs. Wild has had to endure a lot of flak from critics and the press. Anything successful inevitably does. (Funny how the praise tends just to bounce off, but small amounts of criticism sting so much. Self-doubt can be a brute, I guess.)

  The programme has been accused of being ‘set up’, ‘staged’, ‘faked’ and ‘manipulated’. One critic even suggested it was all shot in a studio with CGI. If only.

  Another recurring negative was that following my advice would be dangerous to the viewer. In fact, more likely, lethal.

  But the format has always been: what to do if you are faced with the ultimate wilderness disaster.

  I work within my own skill levels to show what I would do – from all my training – in order to survive.

  Watch. Enjoy. It just might save your life one day.

  Of course, such situations don’t happen often. It is why the crew have a pretty clear idea that I am going to come across certain obstacles – whether they are rapids, cliffs, snakes or sinkholes. That is the show.

  The team do the recces. Then we get briefed by local rangers, indigenous people, and Search and Rescue. It is all part of our preparation. Including grab bags, satellite phones, ropes, med kits, even anti-venoms.

  If you are going to tackle the wild – then be prepared.

  It would have been much easier just to have gone out there and made a safe, predictable survival show – showing you how to sit tight and wait for rescue. And it would have bombed.

  If you want that, then there are a multitude of bushcraft DVDs on offer.

  As for me – I just wanted to go wild and have fun with my buddies.

  CHAPTER 108

  On one occasion, after a particularly long spell away from home, I got Shara to fly into the mountains we were filming in.

  ‘Bring the boys, my love, I miss you.’

  That night, I hitched a lift with the crew, jumped into the helicopter that was extracting them back to base, and went to the lodge they were staying in.

  Shara was there, waiting.

  I spent the night in my family’s arms and went back to film the next day. Reckless, I know.

  But the press got wind of it, as they do, and they went for the jugular. It made for a killer headline. I totally understood. But who hasn’t made the odd mistake?

  In hindsight, it was more than reckless – it was an error, and it opened a can of worms for the papers to feed on.

  But, for the record, it had been total heaven to see Shara and the boys.

  So which do I value more – being a hero or being a father?

  There’s a third option, Bear. It is called patience.

  I know. It is never my strong point.

  So this was another moment that could have sunk the show, but Channel 4 and Discovery backed me. They knew all too well how hard I work and the risks I take – every day.

  And the best response to the critics was the show’s subsequent runaway success.

  The second element to why the show has worked is undoubtedly my team.

  And, guess what? I am not alone out there.

  I work with a truly brilliant, small, tight-knit crew. Four or five guys. Heroes to a man.

  They work their nuts off. Unsung. Up to their necks in the dirt. Alongside me in more hellholes than you could ever imagine.

  They are mainly made up of ex-Special Forces buddies and top adventure cameramen – as tough as they come, and best friends.

  It’s no surprise that all the behind-the-scenes episodes we do are so popular – people like to hear the inside stories about what it is really like when things go a little ‘wild’. As they often do.

  My crew are incredible – truly – and they provide me with so much of my motivation to do this show. Without them I am nothing.

  Simon Reay brilliantly told me on episode one: ‘Don’t present this, Bear, just do it – and tell me along the way what the hell you are doing and why. It looks amazing. Just tell me.’

  That became the show.

  And there is the heroic Danny Cane, who reckoned I should just: ‘Suck an earthworm up between your teeth, and chomp it down raw. They’ll love it, Bear. Trust me!’

  Inspired.

  Producers, directors, the office team and the field crew. My buddies. Steve Rankin, Scott Tankard, Steve Shearman, Dave Pearce, Ian Dray, Nick Parks, Woody, Stani, Ross, Duncan Gaudin, Rob Llewellyn, Pete Lee, Paul Ritz and Dan Etheridge – plus so many others, helping behind the scenes back in the UK.

  Multiple teams. One goal.

  Keeping each other alive.

  Oh, and do the field team share their food with me, help collect firewood, and join in tying knots on my rafts?

  All the time. We are a team.

  The final magic ingredient has been a willingness to risk it all. All in. No questions asked.

  The programme started, and grew, from a determination to push the boundaries. Do the impossible. Climb the impassable – eat the inedible.

  Of course, there was often a safer, easier way down the waterfall or cliff face. But I rarely took it. That wasn’t my aim. I wanted to show you how to survive when you have no safe options.

  And I loved it.

  I had learnt a while back that whenever I had succeeded, it had always come ab
out because of total commitment. Heart and soul. No holds barred.

  I realized, early on, that this would also be the key to this show.

  It’s not rocket science. It’s a lesson as old as the hills: hold back from the tackle and that’s when you get nailed.

  This commitment built the show. But I nearly paid for it with my life. Many times.

  There have been a multitude of ‘near-death’ moments. None of which I am proud of. The list, though, is long. For old times’ sake, I used to write them down.

  Then I gave up when I passed the fiftieth.

  Anyway, I don’t like to think about those – they are in the past. Part of the learning process.

  Part of what made me stronger.

  Nowadays, the show is still crazy, but I manage the risk way better. I use ropes much more, off-camera. I think twice, not once, before I leap. I never did that before. It is called being aware.

  Aware of being a husband. Aware of being a dad.

  I am proud that I am learning; you only ever get it wrong once.

  CHAPTER 109

  There has been one further element to Man vs. Wild’s success, and that is its underlying message. I believe it is actually the biggest factor.

  If you think about it, at heart, there is such a strong link between survival and life. I mean, we are all in a battle of some sort, aren’t we?

  Surviving.

  It feels like day by day, sometimes.

  But talent, skill and luck are only a part of what carries people through.

  A small part.

  There is a bigger element that separates the real survivors. It is heart, hope and doggedness. Those are the qualities that really matter.

  Ditto in life.

  A young kid came up to me in the street a few days ago. He looked me square in the eye, and asked me: ‘If you could tell me one survival message, what would it be?’

  I thought about it for a moment. I wanted to give him a decent answer.

  Then I saw it very clearly.

  ‘Smile when it’s raining, and when you’re going through hell – keep going.’

  The boy thought for a moment.

  Then he looked up at me and said: ‘It rains a lot where I live.’

  We all know the feeling.

  Maybe he’ll remember the message one day – when he really needs it.

  So suddenly here we are.

  Six years on.

  I genuinely never believed we would film more than six episodes of Man vs. Wild, let alone six seasons.

  I mean, where has the time gone?

  I also really had no idea quite how many hellholes, remote jungles, stinking swamps, searing deserts and forbidding, unexplored mountain ranges we have on this small planet of ours.

  People forget. Me included.

  Along the way, we have filmed almost seventy one-hour-long episodes, as well as twelve episodes of Worst Case Scenario, and a whole series on what it is like to go through basic training inside the French Foreign Legion. (Remind me not to repeat that one.)

  It has spawned a mini-industry.

  I have authored eleven books, including two best-sellers (mainly written on airplanes), we have launched Man vs. Wild games on Xbox, PlayStation and Wii. I own a worldwide adventure clothing range, and have fronted worldwide advertising campaigns for the likes of Rexona, Degree, Sure for Men, Nissan and Dos Equis beer, among many others.

  I was so proud to have been made a lieutenant-commander in the Royal Navy in 2005 (Dad would have approved!), and through the expeditions that I have led, in Antarctica, the Himalayas and the Arctic, we have now raised over $2.5 million for children’s charities around the world.

  Those things really matter to me. Especially when you can actually see lives saved. There’s not much tough-guy nonsense going on when I hear those young kids’ stories.

  It is called perspective.

  In addition, and somewhat worryingly, I was voted the thirtieth most influential man in America. Hmm. And back home in the UK, I read one morning that I was considered the seventh coolest British man, as well as the most admired person by the middle classes, second only to the Queen. Double hmm.

  All are very flattering, but they are not very accurate. Ask Shara how cool I am not!

  They have, though, led to one great thing: becoming Chief Scout and figurehead to twenty-eight million Scouts around the globe.

  And that has been a really fun journey.

  CHAPTER 110

  One of the greatest privileges in my life was to be appointed the youngest ever Chief Scout to the Scouting Association. (And the best bit, for me, was that the young people themselves had such a hand in the appointment.)

  The Scouts stand for so much that I value in life – friendships, family, faith and adventure.

  I am learning every day that young people around the world don’t lack ambition, they just lack opportunities, and the Scouts are a shining light that brings camaraderie, adventure and a sense of belonging to those who might never normally get the chance to experience any of these magical things.

  We tour around the UK, visiting hundreds of different troops and leaders, and I always try and set up meetings with local Scout groups after we finish filming, in whatever country we find ourselves in.

  One movement. Many nations. One set of values. It is so infectious because it works so darned well. Just meet some of the kids and you’ll see.

  I love the days I spend with them.

  Each summer, Shara and I host an island survival camp for the most improved young Scouts; I get to host special awards ceremonies for those who have reached the highest rank and achievement in Scouting; and we celebrate both the newest of Scouts and the oldest of leaders.

  Their stories are always incredible.

  Members of the Royal family invariably attend these ceremonies. Like me, moved by Scout tales of courage and hope. Often against impossible odds.

  It is about everyday people, serving as leaders in their communities, giving kids a confidence, sense of purpose, life values and outdoor skills that are hard to find anywhere else.

  To be their Chief Scout is a source of great pride for me, and I hope I can do all those young lives justice.

  And make no mistake, the more time I spend with Scouts the more I feel that it is them that inspire me, rather than the other way around.

  So, with all of these elements, including the Scouts, life keeps running at a hell of a pace.

  Sometimes too fast, and I find it hard to keep up. That part I don’t like.

  It is why I take such pride in having assembled such an amazing team to help me.

  Based in LA and London, they are both crazy fun and frighteningly efficient. Where I bring the ideas, they bring the sense and clarity. We pray together, we laugh together, we try and do the things that really make a difference.

  Money is some way down the list of priorities – but weirdly I am sure that is one of the reasons the whole thing works so well. Profit is such a boring goal in comparison to time and fun together – both as a family and as friends.

  Dave Segel, Del, Todd, Michael, Colin, Jen, Nora, George and the others. My goodness we go through a lot of juice, sushi, air miles and conference calls. And it is, above all, a blast.

  Nowadays, I tend to be more the front man for this extraordinary team of people, who are not only the best at what they do – whether as adventure cameramen, clothing designers, lawyers or producers – they are also my buddies.

  Much of the success of the business side of things, though, is simply the product of great people, great ideas, tidy execution and a sprinkling of good luck. (Although, I guess I have always fought hard to make the most of any luck that has come my way.)

  There is no doubt, though, that I feel quite detached from that official persona of ‘Bear Grylls’. The man looking back at me in the mirror each morning, a bit bleary eyed, with annoying scars and persistent aches, is a different person.

  I consider the Bear Grylls from the TV to be j
ust my work and a brand. The team call him simply BG.

  The man in the mirror, though, is the husband to Shara, father to our boys, and just a regular guy with all the usual struggles, self-doubts and flaws that tend to go with life.

  And of those there are plenty. Trust me.

  I’ll let you into two secrets: sometimes I get so anxious in front of large groups of people that I get a little nervous twitch. The twitch makes me feel embarrassed and ashamed inside. It becomes all I can think about. It makes me hate the fact that people are looking at me.

  It is called fear. And I am scared.

  Just a regular guy.

  Then there are heights. Sometimes when I am climbing, or hanging from a helicopter, I get struck by this all-consuming fear. But no one ever sees. I hold it inside. One minute I am fine, the next I am shaking like a leaf.

  For no reason.

  I know I am safe.

  But am I?

  It is called fear. And I am scared.

  Just a regular guy.

  Relieved?

  I am.

  EPILOGUE

  I am going to wrap up this book somewhere around this point, as in many ways it was these pivotal, early experiences – from childhood to the SAS, from Shara to Everest – that shaped so much of my character.

  These are also the elements that helped to open the doors to many of the adventures that I have been lucky enough to have been a part of since.

  These include tales such as leading one of the first teams ever to cross the frozen North Atlantic Arctic Ocean in a small open boat. This was in aid of the Prince’s Trust, a charity that helps young, disadvantaged people have the chance to follow their own dreams.

  The mission nearly turned ugly when we were caught 500 miles offshore, in an arctic, force 9 gale – with crashing waves, and driving wind and hail. All our electronics and tracker systems went down, and the Navy had to notify Shara that we had vanished off the radar, potentially lost in the eye of this ferocious storm.