March is a great month for many reasons – summer time
starts, my sister celebrates her birthday, the F1 season kicks off in earnest, and
everyone seems happier. It’s also exactly a year until Cross Rower takes to the
seas.
That’s right – my Atlantic challenge is officially
a year away. I have 365 days (give or take a day or two) to get ready to row
6,000km across the Atlantic with my five companions.
My quest started around 30 years ago with my first
thoughts to row around Malta, my home country. Life intervened and nothing came
of it. Now, I’m in the final 12 months of preparation to row the Atlantic Ocean.
I started training for the row in January 2018, two
months after I decided to undertake this epic trip. Staring with 30 minutes of
rowing every two or three days, I’m now up to a minimum of two hours training
every day.
Now that I can say the row will happen ‘in less than a
year’, it’s beginning to feel a bit scary. At the same time, I can’t wait to
go. I can best compare it to bungee jumping – absolutely terrifying until you
leap.
I’m doing the row as a personal challenge for myself,
but I’m also collecting funds for three important charities. You can find out more
here.
Today is also the day when Ralph Tuijn, who will skipper my trip,
leaves on his 10th ocean crossing. I wish him all the very best.
It’s been two years since my brother Michael passed away.
Michael (Cuti) spent the last years of his life making sure everything
was prepared for his death, fighting hard, giving people hope when there was
none, and keeping his spirits high.
It was a struggle, but every time I visited Malta, I was taken aback at
how he kept on going despite what he was going through.
In this same spirit, I will be taking on a challenge of my own – I’ll be
rowing the Atlantic ocean in exactly a year to raise money for three charities:
Hospice (Malta), The Swiss Cancer League, and Terre des hommes.
If he were here, everything would be completely organized, his group of
amazing friends would have been roped in to do various tasks, and he would
inevitably have lists of all things that have been done, are being done, and
others that have to be done in an organized folder that would put the most
organized body to shame. It was annoyingly organized.
For me, it’s a bit different – all the above hasn’t been done, my lists
are short and incomplete, and my organization is somewhat chaotic.
I guess my brother was the one who got the brain – I obviously got the
dashing looks…
OK, now that you have stopped laughing, we need to get serious.
I need your help. No, you don’t need to come and row with me. What I ask is that you visit my website – www.crossrower.ch – and start donating to the three organizations I’m collecting money for on my brother’s behalf.
If you do that, it’ll be ‘alright’.
Another thing – once you’ve done that, share the link and ask your
friends and family, colleagues and neighbours, and anyone else you may know to
do the same. If you do only one of these two, it’s also cool.
I can’t stress enough that charities get 100% of the money you donate,
not 50% or 60% – a full 100%. You will not pay for me to go ‘on holiday’ across
the Atlantic (I’m paying that myself).
Who am I rowing for?
The Hospice (Malta) are a bunch of great people who provide
palliative care. They help people who have friends or relatives who suffer from
cancer and other end-of-life illnesses, such as respiratory, renal, liver and
cardiac, and make sure the patient is as comfortable as possible. They also
help families get through what is a very difficult time. Seeing them in action
was an inspiration for me to do something to help others.
The Swiss Cancer League has centres around Switzerland, my adoptive
home, and they provide information, advice and moral support to cancer
sufferers and their families. It’s amazing what they do, and both patients and
their families benefit immensly from their service, even if it’s just a
friendly voice at the other end of a phone call.
Terre des hommes is a Swiss NGO dedicated to helping and protecting
children in need worldwide. I’d like to do something to help kids who need
help. Specifically, the money raised will help kids in Syrian children
displaced by the war and living in the neighbouring countries Lebanon and
Jordan. A tiny contribution from many will help these kids have a childhood –
like most of us in the west have had. Now, more than ever, is a good time to
donate as in the past three months alone, more than half a million kids were displaced
because of the violence in Syria.
My goal is to collect €10,000 for each – it may be ambitious, but so is
rowing across an ocean. I’ll take care of the rowing – I hope that you help me
take care of the donations (don’t make me get down on my knees…).
There were a staggering 17 million new
cases of cancer reported in 2018, and an estimated 10 million die from the
illness annually. And the number is expected to increase.
This is why 4 February is World Cancer Day, a day in which to raise
awareness on and promote education about cancer to help save millions of preventable
deaths.
I can safely assume that everyone
reading this has had someone – a partner, friend, brother, sister, mother,
father, neighbour, colleague, or relative – who has or had cancer. And we’ve
all lost loved ones to the illness.
Often, people beat cancer. Too many
people, however, don’t make it.
Nearly two years ago, my brother passed
away after battling a brain tumour for what seemed like an eternity. To honour
his life, I will be rowing across the Atlantic Ocean – a 6,000km trip – to raise
funds for charity.
The charities* include the Swiss
Cancer League. Their centres around Switzerland provide information,
advice and moral support to cancer sufferers and their families. It’s amazing
what they do, and both patients and their families benefit immensly from their
service.
These videos can help you understand how people with cancer view their
work:
Long version
Short version
I’ll also be rowing for the Hospice
Malta. The Hospice helps people who have friends or relatives who suffer from
cancer and other end-of-life illnesses, such as respiratory, renal, liver and
cardiac, and make sure the patient is as comfortable as possible.
The World Cancer Day is a call to
action for everyone to take action, however small, to make a positive change.
If interested, you can visit my
website – www.crossrower.ch – to make donation
(a link for a donation to the Swiss Cancer League will soon be available). I
strongly encourage you to do so. If not, please go to your preferred charity
and give them whatever you can – every little helps.
One dark and wet November evening, just over one year ago, a mundane
decision kicked off what is most likely to be one of the biggest and hardest
challenges I’ll ever face – both mentally and physically.
First, I’ll take a few steps back to February two years ago when my
brother Mike passed away.
Like most in a similar position, the events of that Saturday morning
left a deep impact on me. I was left with an unfillable void. As I was saying
my final farewells to Mike, I decide that I had to do something in his honour,
and in the process help organisation who do so much work to help others in
their time of need.
The only problem was I had no idea what to do.
Fast forward to November 2018.
While looking for a TV programme to help me with my German, I stumbled
across a film with four Swiss guys rowing across an ocean. Rowing an ocean.
Bloody crazy.
The Swiss Motion team were packed onto an eight-metre by 1.5-metre boat
and in just over 30 days they rowed nearly 5,000km (3,000 nautical miles)
across the Atlantic Ocean.
Swiss Motion competed in the Talisker Whiskey
Atlantic Challenge – this year, 35 teams are competing. Not sure if
it’s a record, but it’s quite a lot.
The 2019 edition is currently underway and the first team is expected to make landfall right now.
I can’t do the Talisker Atlantic Challenge just yet – it’s beyond my financial means. But I decided to row the Atlantic anyway. I’m joining adventurer Ralph Tuijn (photo above, left) on a trip from Faro in Portugal to Cayenne in French Guiana in South America.
It’s a 6,000km trip where a team of six – including me – will row 24
hours a day, two hours on and two off. The aim is to reach our destination in
less than 48 days. The current record for this stretch is 48 days, 4 hours and
30 minutes.
It’s one of the toughest challenges there are, and to break the record,
we will need lady luck to be on our side with good trade winds and fair
weather.
I have been preparing for this challenge for just over a year. I’ll
also be joining my local rowing club to get as much on the water time as
possible. Until now, I have done around 2.3 million metres, but all on an
indoor rower.
The actual trip across the Atlantic leaves Portugal on 1 March 2021 and
I hope to get to South America by 16 April 2021 – the day before my brother’s
birthday.
This is significant because I will be collecting money for charity in
my brother’s honour, among others. For more information, please visit my
website: www.crossrower.ch
As we speak, 103 people have just begun a journey that will take them
3,000 nautical miles (4,800km) across the Atlantic Ocean. Most, if not all, are
doing it to raise money for different charities.
In the best of conditions, the trip can take 30 days. For solo rowers
(there are seven), it’ll take much longer.
Some of these people are experienced rowers, others are relative novices
and taking to the water is not something that comes natural.
To call it the toughest challenge is probably not even fair – it’s a
bit harder than that, which is probably why far fewer people have rowed an
ocean than climbed the Everest.
The crossing throws at you tremendous conditions. Right now, many
rowers are facing four meter waves in boats that are barely double that length.
Virtually all have suffered from seasickness, broken oars, and have to
come to terms with a new way of living that entails rowing for two hours and
having two hours ‘off’.
When I say off, I mean they have to eat, maintain the boat, fix
anything broken, eat, clean themselves (sort of), and sleep. Getting an hour’s
rest is probably a luxury.
Their ‘toilet’ facilities consist of a bucket. Period. A bucket.
These rowers – because they all now deserve the title – are also taking
on such a huge challenge for their own personal reasons. The best we can do for
them is follow them on the tracker found on the site above. If you can, it’d be
great to support their charities.
I’m also happy to see that there are three Swiss teams (from 35 in
total), quite amazing from a landlocked country.
But what about the +1?
Ralph Tuijn, an adventurer and one of only four rowers who has been at
sea on a rowing boat for more than 700 days (most of which solo), is currently
crossing the Atlantic to raise money for his’s daughter’s school project to
build a school in The Gambia.
If you want to follow him (and he is worth following), you can do so here.
One final thing – on Christmas Day, raise a glass for the 104 people who
will all be out there on the water far from their family and friends. And
remember, if you have a few spare coins after all the present buying is over,
help these rowers’ charities out.
With us every step of the way: (from left) Martina Chetcuti, Hospice PR Manager James Davis, Michelle Chetcuti, and Marianne Chetcuti
My brother Michael must have made quite an impression
during his 51 years on earth. An understatement maybe, but I am biased.
When Marianne, his widow, myself and others set out to
remember the first anniversary of his passing, we all agreed that this was
something we wanted to celebrate. We didn’t want to huddle in a corner and cry.
God knows I’ve done enough of that.
His anniversary, 24 February, coincided with the Malta
Marathon, so it seemed like an obvious plan to gather family and friends to run
(and support) together in his honour. We created t-shirts, designed by
Michael’s daughter Michelle, and printed them. I thought we had too many, which
was fine as I run a lot and could do with some spares. I also hoped we’d manage
to collect a few hundred euros for the Hospice, the agency which so helped Cuti
(and us) when he was in the final months and days of his life. I guessed the
large amount of people at the marathon would remember my brother and we could
get them to help the Hospice.
Then, the marathon was cancelled.
Turns out, it didn’t really matter.
For starters, the t-shirts were all gone. All of them.
I had to fight to get one for a friend (who didn’t know Michael and still
donated €50). I was taken aback – that was quite a sum from a person who didn’t
even know my brother.
“I saw your post and wanted to offer my support,†he
told me. I walked back home a little bit shell-shocked and a bit amazed at how
my brother had managed to have such an effect on people. Because it is not
about us posting stuff on social media, but rather what Michael did when he was
alive.
It also turns out that my hope to collect ‘a few hundred
euros’ was also incorrect, by a hell of a lot. At the end, we collected a
staggering €2,500. Seriously amazing. Money came from family, friends, mothers
of his daughters’ friends, Michael’s former work mates, people who he didn’t
even know, acquaintances, and so many more.
Michael’s family, Marianne and their daughters Martina
and Michelle, handed the money over to Hospice a week or so later (see picture
of them handing the money to the Hospice PR manager James Davies).
By the way, in the end, I ran the marathon –
admittedly, it was on the wrong day and in the wrong country. It’s my small gesture
of gratitude to all of you who helped.
Nearly five hours later, I completed the required 42.195km in Switzerland a week after the 24 February. Only then did I wear the medal (with pride)
The Hospice
Malta
Our charity of choice was the Hospice. They helped
Michael in his last months, and gave our family superb support.
I really didn’t know what they did, and had no idea
what palliative care was (I had to googled it when my sister-in-law mentioned
it to me).
The money we collected will help some other family who
are inevitable going through what we went through a year or so ago. I can
imagine many of you went through the same experience – it’s not nice, and
organisations like Hospice are simply amazing.
The incredible amount collected is, I believe, the
result of the life Michael lived, one in which he touched so many people in so
many ways. It is by your actions that you have made him live even stronger in
our hearts and for that, and on his behalf, we humbly say ‘thank you’.
Cuti may have left the building, but his legacy lives
on.
The Hospice
always needs help. Visit their website – https://hospicemalta.org/
– and help out if you can. If you don’t live in Malta, donate to the Hospice or
similar organization in your country. A small gesture can go very far.
Damn obvious, I
hear you say. In fact, it’s the simplest of action plans for any function, but
it’s also one which is often overlooked or forgotten. As in really often.
Communications,
like any other function, is a job with never-ending jobs; updating the
intranet, writing articles, preparing speeches, finalizing strategy documents
for business units, updating social media accounts, running team meetings,
finalizing annual reports, helping colleagues with their presentations,
updating templates, and the list goes on and on.
Quite frankly,
I enjoy doing all the above – it’s fun, which is why it’s sometimes hard to say
no to the constant and persistent requests that come our way.
I also believe
in a healthy work balance, and frown upon people’s claims that they are “too
busy†– I also wrote a blog piece about that.
However, I
appreciate that people face very challenging targets and many companies expect
their employees to work that extra bit to prove that they can do it in higher
positions. If you ask me, it’s a convenient way for a company to pay less for
more. I know – I did it for the greater part of my working life.
Now, I believe
that while I should give my utmost, and also work day and night in certain
exceptional cases, I also think we really need to prioritize and do the most
important jobs first.
I love
alliterations, so Prioritize, Plan,
Perform is a no-brainer.
Prioritize
‘Ask the comms guy’ is something that
has followed me around for some time. I’m mainly to blame as I like helping
people. But there are company priorities that need to be respected, which means
that if I prioritize uploading a yammer post on the company party (because
colleagues want to see the photos…) rather than deal with finalizing the annual
report, something is wrong.
Plan:
The comms goals should also align with and contribute to functional and company
goals. This is why you need to plan properly and block your calendar to make
sure you get the important things done first. Also, planning helps manage
expectations.
Perform:
Once you know what your goals and, you know what you need to do. It sounds
simple because it is. A cluttered desk, figuratively speaking, means you’ll
probably do the things you see first rather than what is important – or you’ll
do nothing at all because you have no idea where to start from. Planning takes
two forms – yearly and weekly. The former involved more generic operational
planning, while the latter deals with more detailed work on what’s to be done.
It’s easy – no
prioritization means an inability to plan (or follow a plan) and hence perform.
And remember, other people’s priorities are just that. You will find that
people thrown in seemingly super important facts that may make you think that
their priorities are more important than yours. That’s rubbish.
Incidentally,
if you are organized, you’ll find there is more time to be able to help colleagues
with their comms tasks. Start today.
If you’ve been in a PR or comms job for some time, you’ll have certainly read at least one of many articles of pitching to the media. There are numerous of great articles out there, providing tips and tricks on how to achieve maximum coverage.
I now work in comms, but in a previous life I worked as a journalist, so I tend to see and understand the requirements of both parties. While journalists’ work has changed somewhat over the past 10 years or so, the theory remains valid.
So how can you guarantee success with media pitches? Well, you can’t – that’s the truth despite whatever PR agency or consultant may tell you. However, you can take some simple steps to maximize your changes at coverage
Build relations with the media: Media relations is an art, and when done properly can provide great results. Don’t wait until you need a journalist /blogger / etc. before contacting them.
Have a good story to tell: This comes with a caveat – what you think is an interesting story may not be an interesting story for a journalist.
Get good agency support: Your choice of agency is critical to success – choose based on experience, and knowledge on the media landscape. Choosing a ‘more cost effective option’ might prove, well, costly if you don’t get the coverage you want.
Choose your media: There are two options, a shotgun pitch (send it to everyone and his cat and hope for the best) or carefully pick appropriate (niche/trade/mainstream/etc.) media that are genuinely interested in what you have to say. And don’t forget bloggers, vloggers, key influencers, YouTube superusers and other social media buffs (covering Instagram, LinkedIn and other platforms)
Pre-pitch your story: Journalists are generally busy people. And when they are not door-stepping in search of a story, they are at their desk putting articles together and doing research. This means they probably won’t have time for your story when you send it, but they may have more time if they know in advance that something is coming.
Provide a toolbox: Do you know how frustrating it is when journalists have to call for a photo or logo or whatever? Get it to them immediately so they have everything they need. Annoying them doesn’t really help.
Global or local?: This is a tricky one as it all depends on company strategy and what messages you want to convey. I would tend to go for local as long as there is message consistency.
Brand or corporate?: Similar to #6, this could be tricky. You have to determine what the message of your story is trying to achieve – it could be reputation building or risk mitigation (corporate). Alternatively, the message may focus around brand building or boosting sales (brand). This is generally an issue for smaller companies which have a single media relations team / strategy
Follow up: Follow up plans are often forgotten. Know who can interview, have a designated spokesman, and prepare a Q&A. In some cases, contact media and see if they have all the material they need and ask whether they intend publishing
And after all that, you could find that despite your best efforts, coverage is thin on the ground. Was the story not newsworthy enough? Did it have to compete with better stories? Was the pitch flawed? Did you choose the wrong media? Was the timing wrong? Answer these (and other) questions honestly if you want to be (more) successful next time.
I sit alone at Exiles, wondering what to do next. The books and magazines I have with me all vie for attention. I have enough reading material to fill a small village library, so the choice was ample. But none attract me.
It is the surroundings that I am interested in. I observe people and the environment around me. It has become so alien over the past decade, and yet so familiar.
The people in this neighbourhood, my neighbourhood, have changed dramatically since when I left the island in 2003. There are few Maltese – I guess they were either out celebrating the election victory, or at home nursing their despair and anger at what was an historic defeat.
I voted, too, but the beach is where I want to be. Getting there included coming across some of those celebrating. I waved and smiled despite not having voted for the party that won. I had last time round, but not this time. Still, they won and it was fair that they celebrated.
As time went by and celebrations got more boisterous, I wore my headphones in a vain attempt to drown the continuous blaring of horns and incessant bass. Neither Queen, nor Bowie or Ed Sheeran were a match for the triple-digit decibels.
So I continue looking around at the people who share my bay. There is the young Italian girl who shrieks at the sight of a little crab, but still insists her mum catch it for her, and the Japanese man who also sat alone a few feet away. I’ve seen him three times and he follows a ritual – he arrives, relaxes while drinking a beer, then snorkels for 45 minutes, then leaves. I wonder why he is always alone.
A lady splashing on sun-tan lotion reminds me that I should do the same. She seems to have noticed that I followed suit, and smiles. I want to smile back, but I only manage a stupid semi-grin. I don’t want her to think… well, I’m not quite sure what I didn’t want her to think. Pity though, she seems friendly enough, and pretty.
Others arrived. There was the woman who changed from jeans and a jacket – she was a biker – into a one-piece swimsuit without breaking into a sweat. The elderly man, however, is more cautious. He uses a towel that covers three-fourths of his body – from chest right down to the ground – to get into, and later out of his swimming shorts.
There was the red-headed girl who spoke English with an accent I did not recognize. Surely Eastern Europe, but that’s as far as I could tell. She jumped in a collected some trash that had come in with the tide. She tells her friend that if everyone were like her, the sea would be much cleaner. I agreed, silently. Soon, other young women join them, also foreign. Also pretty.
As Labour supporter lets off a flare, I suddenly noticed how the scenery along the coast changed dramatically from 2003. It seems as though someone loaded a shotgun with apartment blocks and shot them onto the Sliema and St Julian’s coastline. Not quite sure what I think of it.
So I return to my books. I am so engrossed that I didn’t realise the pretty lady had left. So had the Italian mum with her daughter.
I seem to have tanned enough for this visit, so I decide it’s time to go. It’s my last day here, which means I won’t be back at Exiles for some time, probably a long time. I’ll miss the salt on my skin after a swim, I’ll miss the sun and many other things. Now it’s time for my self-imposed exile to continue.
My brief albeit exciting foray into the world of General Motors ends at sundown on December 31, but today is my last day in the office. Today is the day the curtains come down, I hand in my laptop, phone and badge and, as Elvis did, I leave the building.
The time has come for me to park my GM career in an unassuming underground garage in my mind and move on to pastures new. I can say that all in all, it was a great ride. It exposed me to a world that many only dream of entering, a world which managed to buff out the blemishes that life brings.
I believe in the principle that a PR man should always remain in the background and make sure the message, product and/or client is out in the limelight.
Meeting and working with many of you was also an enlightening experience – thank you for having been there, and thanks for the support you afforded me over the years.
Now, I look forward to the challenges ahead, of helping my new employer take advantage of all the experience and knowledge garnered while working with GM. I look forward to spending more time with my girls, completing my Master’s and getting fit again – part of the ‘Train the Mind, Train the Body’ program I launched in 2005. I look forward to gardening, which I had abandoned because of my many work commitments. I look forward to a new beginning.
I now sign off for one last time. No teary farewells. I’m not going to cry because it’s over, but smile because it happened.
Typo in farewell mail: I did, indeed, spell my own email address wrongly. Teaches you that you should never edit a text when you under emotional distress – correct address is steve@chetcuti.ch
