I BET Ellen MacArthur didn't get a lift to school every day. I bet she wasn't encouraged to lie on the sofa and watch videos, or just play nicely in the house because it was "safer".

And any girl who can shin up a 90ft mast in stormy seas has probably climbed a tree or two in her time too. Dangerous things, trees.

Alone, she sailed a fearsome voyage in a boat that it normally takes 12 to crew. She had to be sailor, engineer, meteorologist and incredibly tough. It took intelligence, physical stamina, and for those 96 days alone, immense physical and emotional courage. Seeing her sail into harbour was a glorious splendid triumph of skill and the human will.

Of course, it wasn't safe. It was dangerous and challenging. And I bet there were times when her parents longed for her to be tucked up at home, eating a takeaway and watching a re-run of Friends.

They weren't even sailors. Had no understanding themselves of the sea and boats. But they knew about adventure and they understood their daughter and were brave enough to let her go. So when she saved her dinner money for three years to buy a boat, or when she slept in the garage because her bedroom was too full of charts, they didn't try to stop her. And when she was 18 and wanted to sail off alone, they didn't mutter about taking a secretarial course or a diploma, or getting a job with prospects, they let her go.

Britain is now one of the safest countries in the world for children. This is only a mixed blessing. It's safe partly because we don't let them take risks. We have made their worlds smaller, narrowed their vision until all they can see is computer games, sexy magazines and no activity that doesn't take place in a risk-free, cushioned flooring, germ-free, licensed, registered environment supervised by adults.

And then when they're bored out of their silly heads, they have sex at 11, get drunk at 13, take drugs at 15 - because they don't know what else to do. In our bid to keep them safe we've robbed them of their spirit of adventure and independence.

Our couch potato children will, in the end, be no safer. They will die of heart disease, or in car crashes. They will die of drink and drugs overdoses because they are seeking the adventure and danger that we have protected them from. Or, increasingly, they sink into depression.

True, there is only one Ellen MacArthur. But there are thousands more children who have that same spark of spirit and adventure, the desire to live life at first hand. And yet we seem intent on crushing it in the interest of safety

Better safe than sorry is a good sort of rule. But not always. Sometimes the risks are worth it.

Just ask Ellen MacArthur.

FAR be it from me to comment on Israeli politics and the election of Prime Minister Ariel Sharon. But after years of mockery and derision, it's wonderful to see all these really fierce headlines with "Sharon" in them.

"Sharon means war", "Sharon... not raging bull but wily matador", "Palestine fears Sharon".

Great. Bet no one thinks HE wears white stilettos and dances round his handbag.

WEALTH is not the key to happiness and fulfilment, says a new report in a psychology journal.

No, of course it isn't. But money doesn't half make your misery more comfortable.

Unless you're Kate Moss. Britain's wealthiest model - apparently worth around £15m - has said that she turned to drink and drugs because she found her job "boring".

Quite probably. No one ever pretended that being a model was rocket science. But if she fancies a change, maybe Kate should try a stint as a cleaner, sales assistant or carer in an old people's home, without even the luxury of being able to afford champagne to make life interesting.

We never thought she was the Brain of Britain - but even Kate Moss should have enough commonsense to stop trying to make us feel sorry for her.

MY true love hath my heart and I have his... Love is in the air today - even if it's more likely to be between Cuddlebum and Piglet rather than Romeo and Juliet. But yet again the experts lament the end of romantic love poetry, the death of love letters.

How can a text message on a mobile phone convey the depths and meaning and passion that a letter could? And you can't tie an e-mail in pink ribbon and keep it in the attic.

Thank goodness for that.

There are, to be true, a number of wonderful love letters in existence. But they are the rarities. Most love letters are more likely to make you cringe with embarrassment or scream with laughter than shed a nostalgic tear.

Even those that make it to attic rarely retain their early magic. If you still love each other, you don't need reminding. If you loved each other and one has died, you don't need the pain. And if love has gone, then faded letters are just a sick joke. And if anyone else gets to read them...

Think of the trouble that love letters have caused. James Hewitt and the late Princess of Wales, for a start. Once you commit your feelings to paper, you are laying yourself open to all sorts of future problems.

Our children's generation doesn't usually - write letters. Time's too short. Life's too busy. But they are in constant communication - mobiles, e-mails, text messages, phone calls. In a month of this non-stop communication, they've probably had more conversations, exchanged more information, know more about each other than our parents' generation did by the time they'd been married for years.

Romance isn't dead - it's just got speeded up a bit. And, thankfully, leaves no incriminating evidence to taunt the future.

With Friends like these...

"THE future looks good when you're with Friends.." says a big advert for Friends Provident currently running in the national newspapers.

Ah. This is the same Friends Provident that's just told us that our endowment policy with them is going to be £12,000 short in paying off our mortgage. With Friends like these...

www.thisisthenortheast. co.uk/news/griffiths.htm