As a Monopoly player, the last thing I would ever part with is Necker. But even if I had to, I would somehow keep a right to camp on the beach.
CHAPTER 30
Weddings
A year on from their wedding, Holly and Freddie were happier together than ever, and Joan and I were becoming increasingly unsubtle in our hints about grandchildren. While our daughter was happily married, Sam also had his eye on settling down with the woman he had fallen in love with.
“I’ve just met the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he told me—something I was quick to agree on when he introduced me to Isabella. While everyone calls her Bellie for short, I enjoy teasing her about having what must be the longest name of anyone in the world—Isabella Amaryllis Charlotte Anstruther-Gough-Calthorpe—but she is worth every one of those fifty letters.
When Sam had decided Bellie was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, we were on a conservation trip to Madagascar. We were keen to learn more about lemurs, the critically endangered primates. Dr. Russ Mittermeier, a world-leading lemur expert, took us deep into the heart of the country to see these beautiful creatures in their natural habitat. Helen and my nephew Ludo also joined us on the trip, and we learned a huge amount about lemurs and how we could help protect them.
We now have a thriving conspiracy of lemurs (I love that collective noun!) on Necker and Moskito Island. We’ve successfully raised some of the rarest breeds, including panda lemurs, red-ruffed lemur triplets and ring-tailed lemur twins. As well as lemurs, scarlet and white ibis and stout iguanas, one of the things I’m most proud of about Necker is the reintroduction of flamingos to the region. I love going down to the smaller flamingo pond where they breed. They may be courting, strutting up and down with their heads going back and forth, showing off, much like humans. They may be starting to build nests of mud eighteen inches off the ground, so their eggs are safe. They may be learning to fly. Watching the young trying to land is like watching a plane miss the runway time and again. Every now and then we have to help them out of a bush when they crash-land. Just seeing the beautiful scarlet body and the black wing tips as they fly in the sun mesmerizes me. The wildlife of Necker spurs me on to support the conservation of all species. My definition of a sin is for humans to allow a species to die out. Animals cannot speak for themselves—it is up to all of us to protect them and their habitats. This is why we’ve tried to make Necker a real Garden of Eden. Our house is surrounded by huge iguanas, which are very friendly, but sometimes terrify the guests. I have to make it clear they are vegetarian. I get into traffic jams with giant tortoises and have to abandon my golf buggy and wait for them to cross the road. There is nowhere you can stand without marveling; it is a microcosm of what Earth was like before man set foot on it, and of what we all have to fight for to get the world back to. Madagascar, I believe, used to be the same, but is now enormously damaged by deforestation, agricultural fires and habitat destruction.
As we wandered through the Madagascan bush, we chanced upon another person keen to learn more about the importance of protecting the lemurs: Professor Brian Cox. “Small world!” I exclaimed. “Of all the people to meet in the middle of a tropical jungle.” He smiled. We decided to combine forces. Later that afternoon he found the extremely rare and—to most observers anyway—rather strange-looking aye-aye lemur. I was honored to take a photo with Brian and a baby aye-aye.
“This is the only way I’m not going to be the ugliest member of a photo with you!” I joked.
Brian became fast friends with the family. We enjoyed a fine stay at the beautiful Anjajavy L’Hotel on the shore, where lemurs played up in the trees all around us. It was here that Sam took me to one side and told me he was planning to pop the question to Bellie that night. I was thrilled.
“That’s the most wonderful news I’ve heard since Freddie rang me about Holly,” I said.
Sam sneaked off and built a big, beautiful love heart on a quiet beach further down the cove, and picked out a stunning, secluded cave. To my delight, Bellie said yes.
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When I was a young man I never thought about getting married. Then, before I knew it, I was saying “I do” to Kristen, far too young. A couple of years later we went our separate ways. I never thought I would find the true love of my life, but Joan came along and true happiness followed. While I didn’t exactly walk down the aisle when I married Joan (I flew into the wedding in a white suit and top hat, hanging from the bottom of a helicopter), our marriage has been an amazing partnership. All of which made the events a few years ago so frightening.
I had woken up very early on Easter Sunday 2010 on Necker, looking forward to spending the day with my family after an early morning tennis match. I got back from the courts, went to kiss Joan good morning and was immediately shaken to the core. As I pulled back the covers, I saw that one of her legs had swollen to twice its usual size. We immediately knew this was extremely serious. I called for help, as Joan stayed reassuringly calm. Fortunately, Holly, Sam and the whole family were on Necker with us, and we quickly gathered around the bedside to support Joan. Even more luckily, our friend Tim Evans, who just happens to be the Queen’s doctor, was on the island, too, and he managed to stabilize the situation.
We got Joan helicoptered over to the hospital in the British Virgin Islands immediately. The doctors told us she had developed an enormous blood clot, which is very frightening because you know that the slightest movement can send one of those clots to the brain, lungs or heart. Initially, they planned to do nothing except give Joan some stabilizing drugs. Holly, Sam and I got on the phone to every expert we could find and sought second, third, fourth and fifth opinions. It helped that Holly is a trained doctor and was able to offer an educated view. We learned there were some superb specialists, Dr. Katzen and Dr. Powell, at a hospital in Miami that used a very new procedure and it sounded like he could help Joan. Another specialist, Dr. Woolf, said to me: “If she were my mother, I’d take her to Miami.” But we would have to move fast—the procedure would only potentially work if done within a few days of the problem developing.
I have spent a lifetime making decisions, but this was potentially a life or death choice for my wife. Did we move her to a specialist and risk the journey causing more problems? We decided to go for it and Joan was medevaced to Miami, where we also have family. The specialist carried out the procedure and, to my huge relief, it was a complete success. Without it, Joan could have been dragging her leg around for the rest of her life, or worse. Instead, she was able to make a full recovery and walked out of the hospital after a week. We discovered she had an undiagnosed blood disorder that could have killed her at any time. Now she has the proper medication and thankfully the problem has not resurfaced.
Having my wife in trouble was a far more harrowing experience than any of my own brushes with death. I find any time when my family is suffering excruciating. Making life or death decisions for family requires the same skills as making crucial business decisions, but, of course, it feels so much more intense. As an entrepreneur you are better equipped than anyone to question things, listen and learn and ultimately make a call. But there is always another company—there is not another wife, son or daughter. It doesn’t matter how much money you earn; nothing is worth more than your family’s health.
The horrible feeling that I could have lost my partner made me realize, if I ever needed reminding, how much I love her and how much I appreciate having her around. We have always been a very, very close family. But scares like Joan’s illness pull us even closer together. With Joan and me going strong after more than four decades by each other’s side, it is no surprise that people often ask us what our secret is. It would be presumptuous to say that there is a secret. So many relationships don’t work out—more than half of marriages don’t. You are extraordinarily lucky if the chemistry works and it lasts forever. But Joan and I have loved each other unreservedly for all these ye
ars because we understand how each other thinks, respect what each other wants and needs. I’ve seen many other people who have decided to change their partners: they don’t generally end up happier in the long run. The feeling that the grass is greener can often be a mistake. They might unearth some extra passion for a while, but that is unlikely to last forever.
Relationships need to have a lot of give and take. If there are any little niggling things you don’t like about each other, confront and address them. Last night, for example, I couldn’t sleep; every time I got back into bed I woke Joan. Her being able to gently let me know, sure in the knowledge I would understand, means that tonight if I can’t sleep I will make an extra effort to be quiet. Sometimes you don’t realize. Often tiny little things make all the difference. Life is made up of a series of small moments; we simply must try to cherish each one. Whether that is watching a film curled up on the sofa, going out to dinner, or spending time with our family, we try to make our time together count.
For Joan, this does not mean living exactly the same life that I enjoy. While she loves people, she doesn’t particularly relish being the life and soul of the party. I am always keen to spend time with new groups on Necker, while Joan will stay in the background—we don’t begrudge each other that. I travel a lot, so we are not smothering each other. I don’t drag her away on business trips, or out to business dinners very often. In the early days she did come along, but we quickly realized she didn’t enjoy it so we changed things. She is a wonderful reader, has a tremendous love of music and films, and is a fine judge of character. As she is now past seventy, I always urge Joan to take it easier (while completely contradicting that advice myself).
I think the key to lasting love is listening, making sure you act upon your feelings and giving your partner the enormous respect they deserve. Experience plays a huge role, too. I made a lot of mistakes when I was younger. When I married my first wife, Kristen, we were just kids; we thought we knew it all, but we knew next to nothing. It was destined never to last. Joan and I have solid foundations, respect and understanding. That’s not to say there aren’t rare occasions when we have a little tiff, or I am sad about something else. If I get down, whether about business or an argument with a friend, I try to remind myself that time heals and it will pass. Even if you’ve messed up big time, share what you’ve done with people who love you and they will help. When I mess up, Joan is that person. As I wrote this I asked her what she thought was the key to our lasting love: “Oh, I don’t know, Richard, we just work. You’re silly; you make me laugh a lot. Some people are just meant to be together.”
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As well as enjoying my own special relationship, I am also in a position to help other couples to tie the knot. Since I got my Universal Life Church ordainment, I can often be found on Necker standing in front of a husband and wife-to-be on Turtle Beach, or the Sandspit, or Bali Hi, and uttering the words, “You may now kiss the bride.” They aren’t exactly traditional ceremonies, but they’re always memorable!
One that really stands out is the wedding of Google founder Larry Page and his wife Lucy on 7 December 2007. I was flattered to be asked to officiate at the wedding. Larry and I have been good friends ever since he visited Necker several years earlier. We are sort of opposites. He comes from the tech world and is a bit of a boffin, but in the most normal, approachable way. There is a bit of an age difference, but we get on really well together. He comes up with dozens of new ideas every day, and we never know which direction our conversations will take. Lucy is as bright and beautiful as anyone, and gets on wonderfully with Joan and all the family, too.
I was determined to do a good job officiating at their wedding, and neatly hand-wrote all my words for the ceremony on some nice paper. Twenty minutes before the wedding started they blew out of my hand and disappeared. I was in an absolute panic trying to remember the words, and just about managed to bluff my way through it. Both Larry and Lucy are keen kitesurfers, and decided to kite around the island after the ceremony, wearing beautiful matching white gear and boards emblazoned with “L Loves L.” We watched them enjoy a beautiful kite, before they headed back toward the beach.
Then: “Look out! Shark!”
As they reached the shallows, shouts went up as the guests saw a huge tiger shark fin appear. The guests were screaming, Larry and Lucy’s mothers were shouting, people were waving at them to go back out to sea. Larry’s security guard grabbed a knife and bravely ran into the sea to take the shark on.
“No!” I screamed to the guy with the knife and ran toward him. At this stage, our island manager Keny climbed out of the incredibly realistic shark outfit we had specially constructed for the wedding. Everybody burst into fits of laughter—even the security guard! I think Larry and Lucy may have just about forgiven me.
Six years on, there were no sharks, real or otherwise, to disrupt Bellie and Sam’s wedding. Both of them adore the natural world, so after their engagement took place amid the wildlife of Madagascar, it seemed fitting that their wedding would be at Ulusaba. Family and friends flew out to the bush ahead of the big day on 5 March, and we created the most beautiful space for the ceremony. Animals roamed freely all around us, and I was amazed how the couple managed to create something completely different from Holly and Freddie’s wedding, but equally as perfect.
I was delighted that Brian Cox was there, and he gave a humbling speech about the power of love and the universe around us; then Bellie’s remarkable, unrehearsed words left everybody fumbling for tissues. After a spectacular ceremony, I looked up to the skies to see another enormous thunderstorm on the horizon. We scrambled for the cover of Rock Lodge and all watched together as nature put on the finest fireworks display one could ever wish to see.
Seeing my children get married were really special moments for all the family. It also really made me take stock of where I was in my own life now that I was in my sixties. Virgin had grown beyond my wildest dreams. The strategy of consolidating our businesses into the key areas in which we knew the brand worked best—travel, finance, health and wellness, telecoms—was paying dividends, but I still felt like there was so much to do. Whether it was expanding our nonprofit efforts or getting to space with Virgin Galactic, I believed my biggest challenges were still ahead of me. I felt restless, I felt energized, and eager to work hard and play harder.
But there was something else always in the back of my mind, too. I was missing my father. I was so used to asking his opinion on everything from business decisions to holiday ideas, sharing stories and jokes. I really missed calling him up for a chat. But Mum was coping wonderfully, keeping extraordinarily busy and living life to the fullest. I was determined to do the same. Perhaps it was realizing I was advancing in years, but I began to be really eager for grandchildren. Dad had doted on Holly and Sam, and I was keen to do the same with my own grandkids if I got the chance.
CHAPTER 31
Start-ups
One day in the late sixties my mum saw a necklace lying in the road near Shamley Green and took it to the police station. After three months nobody had claimed it so the police told her she could keep it. She came up to London, sold the necklace and gave me the money. Without that £100, I may never have started Virgin. We paid the bills, expanded our advertising and kick-started what would go on to become a brand employing more than 70,000 people. Mighty oaks from little acorns grow. . . .
In 2011, in my hammock back on Necker, I was handed a report. Opening reports usually fills me with as much dread as opening my mouth at the dentist, but on this occasion it felt different. Control: Shift had been put together by Virgin Media Pioneers, our online community of enterprising people. Through the report, we had tried to give a voice to young entrepreneurs who are vital to the economy, but are not being heard. I asked young people directly: what changes would make it more likely that young entrepreneurs will thrive and prosper? I wanted to know what barriers they believed were blocking their p
ath.
This was following a summer when riots across the UK had led to some very lazy generalizations that young people are all disillusioned, disenfranchised and disconnected from their communities. When the riots happened, I was saddened, but not all that surprised. They made me think back to my own days protesting in the sixties. When young people feel they are not being listened to, their reactions can spill out into the streets. However, the reality is that there are thousands of young people out there building exciting futures for themselves and others. They just need a little help along the way, from each other, from enterprises large and small and from the government.
One suggestion was to change the way entrepreneurship is taught in schools, with business training starting younger and being more adaptable. I talked to my daughter, Holly, about it. While she was at university, she felt she could have learned just as much in a shorter period and believed students should be given the option for more flexible learning. If you want to fit a degree into three years instead of four, or two years instead of three, you should be able to. I started asking everyone I met: “Why did you go to university? What did you learn, and could you have spent the time more productively?” The majority felt it hadn’t been the best use of their time and, at the very least, it could be improved.
Another idea from Control: Shift was about fostering a culture of collaboration, recalculating the way society invests in young people and encouraging young people to do it for themselves. The new generation felt their elders did not respect them. This resonated with me from my days running Student magazine. I would go into meetings and not be taken seriously because of my age, my clothes, even my voice. Too many potential entrepreneurs were discouraged back then by the snobbery of their elders—and it seemed this was still a problem in the twenty-first century. If entrepreneurs who had been there, done it and got the t-shirt could support rather than shun new talent, this problem could be reversed. I thought the solution was simple: mentorship, which had been essential for me, from my mum’s support to Freddie Laker’s. Getting advice on how best to achieve goals, overcome obstacles and outmaneuver competition is often the missing link between a promising businessperson and a successful one. Plus, it’s always good to have someone to talk to.
Finding My Virginity: The New Autobiography Page 29