The Mario McClarnon cup - another race lost to blue-green algae

Mario McClarnon was one of those incredible characters that over the years have blessed us by their presence at the Serpentine.  Though doing many amazing and often extrovert things he never bragged or sung his own praises.  Over the years more and more seems to come out about his amazing life.  It really is hard to do him justice, but the stories just keep coming.

For many decades Mario would pipe us onto the board for the Christmas Day race, often ready changed in his swimming trunks.  In 1963 Mario was ready to pipe the swimmers onto the board on the morning of the 100th race.  Unfortunately, the race was cancelled at the last minute due to ice so Mario played a reel whilst members took their quick plunge.

Born in Northern Ireland (Armagh?) in 1932 Mario was a natural musician, teaching himself a number of instruments.  As a teenager he wished to learn the bagpipes, so where better to go than the local marching band.  Mario duly started to learn the pipes and diligently practised.  It is not certain whether or not he got to go on a fully-fledged march, but this was late 1940s Ulster and it was "that sort" of marching band, i.e. the local Orange Lodge.  When they learnt of his religion, and that (as Alan MItchell puts it) he would lead with the “wrong foot” on the march, he had to leave.  How very, very sad. 

In order to avoid being called up for National Service Mario joined the Army. That may sound a bit counter-intuitive, but there is some sound, early 1950s logic to signing up for the Irish Army.  Whilst serving he acted as a batman to an officer who regularly spent his weekends away from the barracks enjoying the delights of Dublin.  Mario would take advantage of the absence by sleeping in the officer's comfy bed rather this his own bunk in the barrack's dormitory.  One weekend the officer returned early to find Mario sound asleep where he should not have been.  The detail is not clear, but it did not end well.

Mario worked in the Clapham Junction signal box, at a time when signals were switched by manual leavers -  heavy, physical work requiring repeated strength all day.  After a shift in the signal box he would run barefoot and bare-chested from Clapham Junction to Hyde Park and back, summer and winter.  In 1981 he ran the first London Marathon, complete with kilt and bagpipes, barefoot and bare-chested, stopping occasionally along the way to pipe the crowd and collect money for charity. An accompanying friend carried two buckets for the many coins tossed in for the good causes, getting heavier and heavier as the 26 miles, and Mario's playing, progressed.  His accomplice said, "by the finish it seemed my arms had grown by two or three inches".

Daughter Anna notes that Mario ran from Vauxhall to the start at Blackheath, completed the marathon, then ran back to Vauxhall (all barefoot).

Apparently Mario was an ultra-marathon runner "before such things were invented!"

Mario was occassionally mistaken for Jimmy Savile, being an unintended look-alike and more than once was stopped in the street and asked for an autograph.  These were always signed "Mario McClarnon", to the puzzlement (and sometimes indignation) of the autograph hunter!

At the time this was seen as an amusing compliment. Mario died long before Savile's real life was exposed.

Mario was a man of great generosity of spirit often collecting for charity in his kilt playing the bagpipes.  There is a famous story is his arrest outside Selfridges.

Whilst piping he was ordered by a WPC (in the days that one had WPCs ) to move on.  She came back, found him still playing and arrested him. Hauled before Westminster Magistrate's Court the beak dismissed the case saying how much he enjoyed listening to Mario when he frequently passed him and that how, in an article in "The Times", he had read that all his busking money collected was not retained by Mario but donated to charity.  The case hit the national press.

Tragically, Mario was knocked down by a teenager on a motor scooter when crossing a road in Victoria.  He survived but spent the last 18 months of his life in Stoke Manderville hospital paralyzed from the neck down.  He died in 2007.

"On this day 23 years ago I was creeping ever closer to the French coastline, having started swimming the previous day. Every year I reflect on this achievement but as I always say I never did this in solitude, I did it because of the amazing support of everyone at Eltham Training and Swimming Club especially Tanya Harding not just a coach but a friend who put up with my many tantrums, Lance Oram and the crew of Sea Satin for patience and belief and telling me to get my head down and get on with it at just the right time.

"I did it because of my dad who gave me this love of open water swimming had told me on the evening I set off 'don't do anything stupid I'm proud of you for trying if you get as far as the harbour walls and want to get out you do that. I will still be proud of you'.  He was clearly worried but in his heart he knew I would never be getting out unless they pulled me out.

"I did it because of my mum who for all her illnesses and challenges taught me how to be strong, brave and resilient and never give up without ever uttering a word. I'm sure her spirit was with me on the swim.

"And because in a time before social media when some Microsoft had some early chat room messenger type thing, messages through the night came in from people I had met and not met. Sal Minty-Gravett I can remember Tanya reading out a few that you had sent telling me to keep going, that I was almost there just to keep swimming. I was so taken back that someone I had fleetingly met on the beach would take time to encourage me on this journey. Those small things helped.

"Easy to think that this achievement was mine -  nope, in my eyes it was everyone who was involved in it and I will be forever grateful that you were.

Bragging rights last a lifetime."