How Ireland Finally Honoured Tom Crean — The Full Story of an 11-Year Campaign

January 31st, 2021 will go down in history as the day Ireland finally honoured Tom Crean. For those of us who had spent eleven years fighting for that recognition, the announcement that a new Irish government-funded research vessel was to be named RV Tom Crean was the realisation of everything the campaign had set out to achieve. It was a groundbreaking victory — and the story of how it came about is one that deserves to be told in full, with all of its joy, its frustrations and, ultimately, the extraordinary circumstances that surrounded it.

This is that story.

Eleven Years in the Making

The Ireland Should Honour Tom Crean campaign began in 2010, born out of a conviction that one of Ireland's greatest and most remarkable men had been inexcusably overlooked by his country. A man who had served on three of history's most celebrated Antarctic expeditions — Discovery, Terra Nova and Endurance — performing four separate acts of extraordinary heroism that saved the lives of twenty-nine colleagues, and yet whose name remained absent from any form of official state recognition.

For five of those eleven years, the campaign was centred on a petition, gathering signatures from Tom Crean supporters across Ireland and around the world. By the time the petition was handed to the Irish Government, it carried 16,175 names. Beyond the petition, the campaign's social media presence had grown to over 50,000 supporters across its platforms — people from every corner of the globe who believed, as I did, that Tom Crean's contribution to Irish history could no longer be ignored.

The custodians of Tom Crean's name — his direct grandchildren — had, to my surprise and disappointment, not supported the campaign. Their position, stated plainly, was that Tom Crean's name was "already well-established." What can I say? They were entitled to that view. But the tens of thousands who supported the campaign evidently saw things differently.

A Conversation That Changed Everything

In April 2020, I received a communication that I would keep to myself for the better part of nine months.

Lorcán Ó Cinnéide, a former board member of the Marine Institute, got in touch with me to outline a proposal. Lorcán was not a stranger to the campaign — he had been among the very first people to sign the petition when I created it in December 2016, adding his name just one day after it was published. Now, four years later, he was calling with a plan: to put forward a motion to the board of the Marine Institute that a new government-funded scientific research vessel, currently in planning, should be named in honour of Tom Crean.

In the course of our conversations, I made him aware that the Crean custodians would want me kept out of the picture entirely. Their grievance was that I had not sought their approval before publishing the biography — which at that stage was a self-published edition. I knew any ceremony would not take place without them in attendance and I knew that Lorcán's next step was to inform them of his proposal to the board of the Marine Institute. The plan had been for Lorcán to present each board member with a copy of the book to make the case for Tom Crean's significance. I made copies available, ready and waiting at my cousin's home, and forwarded the address to him. After briefing the custodians about his proposals and no doubt, of his conversations with me, he never collected the books. The board, as far as I am aware, never read the biography.

What Lorcán did do was put the proposal forward — and that, whatever the circumstances surrounding it, was what ultimately mattered. He asked me to keep details of the proposal confidential until such time as it might prove successful.

I agreed, and I kept that confidence.

What followed were nine months of quiet anticipation — a private knowledge that something historic might be imminent, shared with no one, carried through what turned out to be one of the most difficult periods any of us can remember.

The Day Ireland Finally Honoured Tom Crean

Nine months after Lorcán's first contact, on January 31st, 2021, the announcement came.

The new Irish government research vessel was to be named RV Tom Crean. The Marine Institute confirmed the decision and for the first time in over a century, the Irish state had officially honoured the name of one of its greatest sons.

I had waited eleven years for that moment. What I hadn't anticipated was the particular circumstances in which I would receive the news. That morning, I had returned home from hospital following a heart operation. I mention this not to garner sympathy but because it is simply part of the truth of that day. I sat with the news, quietly, on my own, and I felt something that I struggle to put into words even now. It wasn't pure elation, though there was certainly that. It was more like relief. The kind of relief that comes when something you have believed in for a very long time is finally vindicated by the facts.

Lorcán Ó Cinnéide, reflecting on the announcement, said what many of us felt: "This is just and long overdue reward for Tom, and a great day for the campaign to have him recognised."

I spoke publicly at the time and said what I meant: "It was in April 2020 that Lorcán made me aware of his efforts to have this vessel named in honour of Crean and I've kept it under my hat until today. I'm delighted for all Tom Crean fans and I'm indebted to the supporters of this campaign, one of whom played a pivotal role in bringing its aim to fruition."

The custodians, who had not supported the campaign, expressed delight at the news. That was genuinely welcomed. Whatever differences existed, the naming of RV Tom Crean was a moment for Tom — and for all who loved him.

What victory looks like · 31 January 2021 · Ireland names new research vessel RV Tom Crean

The Attempted Erasure of the Campaign

What followed in the months between the January announcement and the official launch ceremony was, to put it plainly, a disappointment of a different kind.

When the Marine Institute made their public announcement, there was no mention of the campaign that had spent eleven years fighting for this result. No reference to the petition. No acknowledgement of the 50,000 supporters whose collective voice had, quite demonstrably, contributed to the cultural shift that made the decision possible. The efforts of everyone who had signed, shared, posted and argued on behalf of Tom Crean's recognition had been entirely disregarded in the official narrative.

I won't pretend that didn't sting. It did.

And then Lorcán, the man who had set the whole process in motion, aligned himself with the custodians and, in doing so, participated in what I can only describe as an attempt to rewrite the history of how this victory came about. The campaign, and its supporters, were being written out of the story.

Fast forward to late September 2022 — two days before news of the official launch ceremony at Dingle went public — I received an invitation. Admittance by invitation only, from the Marine Institute, requesting my attendance at the ceremony on 6th October.

My reply was considered, and I meant every word of it:

The day after I sent that letter, I received news of a different kind entirely. A funeral of someone I was very close to was taking place the following day, and that prevented me from travelling to Ireland to attend the ceremony regardless. There are matters of greater importance than any campaign, and this was one of them.

I won't pretend there wasn't a part of me that would have loved to have stood among the crowds in Dingle that day, to have looked upon that vessel and felt the full weight of what had been achieved. But I would have been ashamed of myself to stand on the same platform as those seeking to claim the glory for their own.

RV Tom Crean Launches at Dingle

RV Tom Crean at Dingle Harbour · 6 October 2022

Fast forward to 6th October, 2022, and the day that had been eleven years in the making finally arrived.

The RV Tom Crean sailed into Dingle Harbour — the beautiful Kerry town closest to Tom's birthplace in Annascaul — for her official launch ceremony. I had argued, as had many supporters of the campaign, that Dingle was the only fitting location for such an occasion, and I was glad that call was taken on board. It could not have happened at a more appropriate place. It was a town Tom Crean knew well, a place that would have felt like home to him, and the perfect harbour from which to launch a vessel bearing his name into the waters of the world.

I watched from a distance, following the images and videos shared by the crowds who had descended on the town. The sight of that ship, with Tom Crean's name on her hull, was everything.

In the days before the launch, I had come across an audio clip featuring a proposed suggestion from one of the Crean custodians that a bottle of their own Tom Crean-labelled beer be used to christen the vessel, in place of the traditional champagne. I made my objections public and I stated plainly that this was not a marketing event. The RV Tom Crean was funded by the Irish government, named in honour of one of Ireland's greatest heroes — it was neither the time nor the place to promote a commercial product. My protestations, however, were ignored. They went ahead and did it anyway. The vessel that bears the name of one of Ireland's most remarkable men was christened with a bottle of branded beer. I will leave readers to draw their own conclusions about the priorities of those involved.

On the eve of the launch, I made my declaration. After eleven years of operating a campaign for Ireland to honour Tom Crean, with the vessel about to moor at Dingle, I declared a historic victory — formally, and with the pride of every single person who had played a part in it.

The Result Belongs to Everyone

There are things about this story that remain frustrating, and I won't pretend otherwise. The campaign was written out of the official narrative by those who should have known better. The supporters of the Ireland Should Honour Tom Crean campaign — all 50,000 of them — deserved to be acknowledged, and they weren't.

But here is what I know to be true and what no one can take away: it was a campaign supporter, a man who had signed the petition in December 2016, who brought the proposal to the Marine Institute's board. It was eleven years of campaigning, petitioning, posting, arguing and refusing to let the matter drop that created the cultural climate in which the decision became possible.

The result belongs to every person who ever signed that petition, shared a post, sent a message, or simply believed — as I did from the very beginning — that Tom Crean deserved better from his country.

He got it. And that, in the end, is the only thing that truly matters.

It would take a vessel the size of Dingle itself to fit every person who deserves to stand on her deck.