Soon after I bought Henry (Our Haven at the time), I had her lifted out of the water and wheeled into the 'shippodrome' at the marina. I am undeservedly lucky to have a wife who is prepared to crawl under a boat with a paintbrush in her hand (while it is out of the water obviously), so we polished and antifouled her, and had new rubbing strakes fitted to both sides. We then had the grand renaming ceremony when I applied the 'Henry - ex Our Haven, Bridgehouse Marina' graphics to the hull. Strangely satisfying, not so much because there is anything inherently wrong with the name 'Our Haven', but more because I have long been a huge admirer of the bravery and dedication of lifeboat crews in general, and of Henry Blogg in particular, and at long last I was able to name a boat after him.

Henry Blogg is the most decorated RNLI crewman in the history of the service, with three Gold and four Silver RNLI Medals for Gallantry as well as the George Cross and the British Empire Medal. He joined the crew of the Cromer lifeboat in 1894 at the age of 18, and finally retired as coxswain at the age of 71 after 53 years of service during which the Cromer boats carried out 387 services, the majority led by Coxswain Blogg and saved 873 lives. He never flinched from his duty, never gave so much as a second thought to his own safety when lives were at risk at sea and spent his entire adult life waiting for the 'maroons' to go up, before putting to sea in a wooden boat, often at night and in appalling weather, to rescue complete strangers from certain death. He did this wearing waterproofs that were only slightly waterproof, a cork lifejacket that barely floated and in a boat that was well built, but which was powered by a pair of Fairy petrol engines that gave her a top speed of 8 knots.

I know that times change and that there is little real point in making comparisons with the past, but I can't help feeling that when Rio is called 'brave' for playing with a thigh strain and when architecture is described as 'heroic', there is a lack of perspective which could be provided by men such as Henry Blogg and his crew.

It is an often quoted assertion that fishermen rarely learn to swim. Blogg was no exception to this, which meant that he knew, every time he put to sea, that he only had to slip on deck once or miss his handhold when a big sea came on board, and he would die. To take that sort of risk to save the lives of men and women whom he had never met, and who would do no more than shake his hand as they clambered up the steps in Yarmouth harbour, is more than bravery or heroism.

It is gallantry.

And that is something that will never be seen on a football field or in urban redevelopment.