ft.ins.Length over all423Greatest breadth of beam, exactly amidship18⅜From centre of seat to sill of rowlock28½Length of play of slides13⅞Height of sliding-seat above skin of boat8⅞Height of heel-traps above skin of boat1⅝(This would make the heels about one inch above skin of boat.)Height of sill of rowlock above seat6¾Depth forward6⅛Depth aft5
ft.ins.Length over all120½Length in-board38½Length of blade28Breadth of blade5¾
This boat is some three feet shorter than the average of Fours nowadays.
The oars used by the New College Four measured over all 12 ft. 6 ins.; in-board, 3 ft. 8½ ins.; breadth of blades, 5½ ins.
(In this Pair Mr. H. G. Gold, and Mr. R. Carr won the University Pairs at Oxford, their weights being 11 st. 10 lbs. and 12 st. 8 lbs. respectively.)
(In this Pair Mr. H. G. Gold, and Mr. R. Carr won the University Pairs at Oxford, their weights being 11 st. 10 lbs. and 12 st. 8 lbs. respectively.)
ft.ins.Length over all371Greatest breadth13¾Length of slide play14Distance from sill of rowlock to centre of seat28½Height of seat above skin of boat8⅛Height of heels above skin of boat1¼
HENLEY REGATTA.(A Heat for the Diamonds.)
In writing an article on sculling, a sculler must of necessity be egotistical. He can only speak of what he himself feels to be the correct way of doing things, and cannot judge of how a different man feels under the same circumstances. I therefore put in a preliminary plea for forgiveness if in the course of these remarks the letter "I" should occur with excessive frequency. Sculling is so entirely an art by itself, that a man might just as well ask a painter how he produces an impression on a canvas as ask a sculler why he can scull, or how it comes that so many good oarsmen cannot scull. Ask an ordinary portrait-painter why he cannot sketch a landscape, and ask an ordinary oarsman to explain why he cannot scull, and to the uninitiated the answer of bothwill have the same sort of vagueness. Sculling differs so vastly from rowing that no man who has not tried his hand at both can appreciate how really wide apart they stand; and the fact that sculling depends to such a great extent on one's innate sense of touch and balance, makes it extremely hard for a man who has tried his hand with some success at both sculling and rowing to explain to the novice, or even to the veteran oarsman, wherein the difference lies. There is as much difference between sculling and rowing as there is between a single cyclist racing without pacemakers, steering and balancing himself and making his own pace, and a man in the middle of a quintette merely pedalling away like a machine at another man's pace, and not having the balance or anything else solely under his control. The difference in "feel" is so great that one might liken it to the difference between riding a light, springy, and eager thoroughbred which answers quickly to every touch, and pounding uncomfortably along on a heavy, coarse-bred horse, responding slowly to an extra stimulus, and deficient in life and action.
To scull successfully one must possess pluck,stamina, and a cool head, and must, above all, be a waterman. A man mayrowwell and successfully, and yet possess none of these qualities. Nothing depresses a man more when he is sculling than his sense of utter isolation. If a spurt is required, he alone has to initiate it and carry it through; there is no cheering prospect of another strong back aiding one, no strenuous efforts of others to which one can rally, no cox to urge one to further effort. You feel this even more in practice than in actual racing, especially when going against the clock. You are your own stroke, captain, crew, and cox, and success or failure depends entirely and absolutely upon yourself. No one else (worse luck) is to blame if things go wrong.
The pace of a sculling-boat is strictly proportionate to the quality of its occupant. A good man will go fast and win his race; a bad man cannot. A good man in an Eight cannot make his crew win; and a bad man in an Eight may mar a crew, but he can also very often win a race against a crew containing better men than himself.
People have often asked me why a first-class oar should not of necessity be a good sculler.This, although a hard matter to explain, is partly accounted for by what I have said above, in that sculling is so greatly a matter of delicate touch and handling. Even good oars are as often as not clumsy and wanting in a quick light touch. Very few really big men have ever been fine scullers. This is partly accounted for by the fact that so few boats are built large enough to carry big weights, and consequently they are under-boated when practising. Many big weights,e.g.S. D. Muttlebury and F. E. Churchill, have been good and fast scullers at Eton, but two or three years afterwards are slow, and get slower and slower the longer they continue. This, I think, is a good deal owing to the muscle which a big man generally accumulates, especially on the shoulders and arms, and he therefore lacks the essential qualities of elasticity, lissomeness, and quickness with the hands.
Big, strong men also generally grip with great ferocity the handles of their sculls, and these being small, the forearm becomes cramped, and gives out. Many good oarsmen have never tried to scull, and those who have generally give it up after a first failure, which is more often than notdue to want of attention to detail. What passes for good watermanship in an Eight is mere clumsiness in a sculling-boat, and, as a matter of fact, there are far fewer really good watermen than the casual observer imagines.
I asked three of our best modern heavy-weight oarsmen to tell me the reason why they could not scull. The Thames R.C. man said the only reason why he had never won the Diamonds was because he had never gone in for them. This was straightforward, but unconvincing to any one who had watched this gentleman gambolling in a sculling-boat. The Cambridge heavy-weight affirmed solemnly that he could scull, and was at one time very fast. He subsequently admitted that he could never get a boat big enough, and, secondly, his arms always gave. The Oxford heavy-weight replied much to the same purpose, without the preliminary affirmation.
Many men can scull well and slowly, but few can really go fast, and this, I think, is due to the fact that they do not practise enough with faster men than themselves, and so do not learn by experience what action of theirs will best propel a boat at its fastest pace. Nothing is moredeceptive than pace; when a man thinks he is going fastest he is generally going slowest. He gets the idea that he is going fast because his boat is jumping under him, and creating a large amount of side-wash; but an observer from the bank will notice that although the sculls are applying great power, that power is not being applied properly, and his boat will be seen to be up by the head and dragging at the stern, and bouncing up and down instead of travelling.
The first and foremost thing, then, to be attended to for pace is balance,i.e.an even keel, and to obtain this your feet should be very firm in your clogs. As those supplied by the trade are of a very rough and rudimentary character, they will nearly always require padding in different places. You should be able to feel your back-stop just so much that when leaning back well past the perpendicular you can push hard against it with a straight leg. You are then quite firm, and can control your body in the event of your boat rolling. Although when a man has become a waterman he will find the back-stop unnecessary, it is safest for the novice to have it, so as to be able to press against it; otherwise, having nothing to press against at thefinish of his stroke, he may acquire the bad habit of relying entirely on his toes to pull him forward. In such a position he is unstable, and if his boat rolls he has no control over his body.
Having got your balance, the next thing to be thought of is the stroke. Reach forward until the knees touch either armpit; put the sculls in quite square, and take the water firmly (be most careful not to rush or jerk the beginning); at the same time drive with the legs, sending the slide, body and all, back; the loins must be absolutely firm, so that the seat does not get driven away from underneath the body. If you allow the loins to be loose and weak you will acquire that caterpillar action which was to be seen in several aspirants to Diamond Sculls honours last year, and which ruined whatever poor chance they ever possessed. This diabolical habit of driving the slide away, although common to many professionals, cannot be too severely condemned, as it relieves the sculler from doing any work at all except with the arms, which, if thus used, without swing and leg-work to help them, cannot, unless a man is enormously muscular in them, hold out for any great length of time. The firm drive will start the swing of the body,which may be continued a fraction of time after the slide has finished. You will find that when you have driven your slide back your body will have swung well past the perpendicular (and in sculling you may swing further back than you are allowed to in rowing). When in that position a sculler is allowed to do that which an oarsman must not, viz. he may help to start his recovery by moving his body slightly up to meet his sculls as they finish the stroke. Thus by keeping his weight on the blades in the water as long as possible, instead of in his boat, he strengthens the finish and prevents his boat burying itself by the bows. The stroke from the beginning should go on increasing in strength to the finish, which should be firm and strong, but, like the beginning, not jerked or snapped. Strength applied to the finish keeps a boat travelling in between the strokes.
The finish is by far the hardest part of the stroke, and is most difficult to get clean and smart. The position is naturally a far weaker one than that of the oarsman, as the hands are eight inches or so further back, and at the same time six inches or so clear of the ribs. In thisposition nine out of ten scullers fail to get a really quick recovery with the sculls clean out and clear of the water, the hands away like lightning and clear of the knees, and the body at the same time swinging forward. As soon as the hands have cleared the knees they should begin to turn the blade off the feather, so that by the time you are full forward the blades are square and ready to take the water. Professionals recommend staying on the feather until just before the water is taken, but this is apt to make the novice grip his handles tightly, and press on them almost unconsciously when he should be very light. He will thus make his blade fly up and miss the beginning. In order to ensure both hands working perfectly level and taking and leaving the water exactly together, a man should watch his stern, and by the turn given either way he can easily detect which hand is not doing its right amount of work. Which hand you scull over or which under makes little or no difference. Personally, I scull with the right hand under. In holding a scull the thumb should "cap" the handle; this prevents you from pulling your button away from the thowl even the slightest bit, and makes your grip firmer andsteadier. If in steering you must look right round, do so shortly before you are full forward, as soon as the hands have cleared the knees, but generally steer by the stern, if you can, without looking round, and almost unconsciously by what you notice out of the corner of either eye as you pass.
Modern professionals, with very few exceptions, scull in disgracefully bad form. W. Haines, Wag Harding, and W. East, at his best, are perhaps the only exceptions I know to this rule. English professionals, owing to the manual labour with which most of them start life, become abnormally strong in the arms, and trust almost entirely to those muscles. Their want of swing, their rounded backs, and "hoicked" finish they carry with them into a rowing-boat. Nothing shows up their bad form in rowing so much as sandwiching a few pros. in a goodish amateur crew—"by their style ye shall know them." They have acquired a style which does not answer, and which they cannot get rid of, and they consider an Eight can be propelled in the same manner as a sculling-boat. Nothing is more erroneous. They cannot assimilate their style tothe correct one. Two pros. sometimes make a fair pair, because they may happen to "hoick" along in the same style. Professional Fours are a little worse than Pairs, and their Eights disgraceful. I am of opinion (and I fancy most men who know anything about rowing will agree with me) that England's eight best amateurs in a rowing-boat would simply lose England's eight best pros. over any course from a mile upwards. This inability to assimilate one's style to that of another man, or body of men, may be the reason why some excellent amateur scullers proved inferior oars, or it may be that they can go at their own pace and not at another man's. I myself have often felt on getting out of a sculling-boat into an Eight great difficulty and much weariness at being compelled to go on at another man's pace, and only to easy at another's order. If you are practising for sculling as well as rowing there is nothing like beingcaptainof an Eight or stroke of a Pair or Four.
The novice, if he has toiled so far as this, is no doubt by now saying to himself that I am only repeating what he knows already, and that what he especially requires are hints as to rigging hisboat, size and shape of sculls, and various measurements, the pace of stroke he ought to go, etc., Of course, the smaller the blade the quicker the stroke, andvice versâ. It should be remembered that even 1/16 of an inch extra in the breadth of a blade makes a lot of difference. Blades, I think, should vary according to the liveliness of water rowed on, and according to the strength of the individual. For myself, I am rather in favour of smaller blades than are generally used. My experience leads me to believe that racing sculls should be from 9 ft. 8½ ins. to 9 ft. 9½ ins. in length all over; in-board measurement from 2 ft. 8¼ ins. to 2 ft. 9 ins., but, of course, this entirely depends on how much you like your sculls to overlap. When they are at right angles to the boat, my sculls overlap so much that there is a hand's-breadth of space in between my crossed hands. The length of blade should be about 2 ft.; breadth of blade, from 5¾ ins. to 6¼ ins. Even on the tideway sculls should be as light as a good scull-maker can turn them out, so long as they retain their stiffness. Do not, however, sacrifice stiffness to lightness. It is rather interesting to compare these measurements with those of a pair of sculls hangingover my head as I write; these were used in a championship race eighty years ago, and have a heavy square loom to counteract their length and consequent weight out-board. The measurements are—8 ft. 8 ins. in length over all, 1 ft. 9 ins. in-board; length of blade, 2 ft. 5 ins.; breadth of blade, 3⅛ ins. I give below roughly what should be the measurements of a boat according to the weight of the sculler. For a man of—
9 stone.12 stone.13 stone.Length30 ft.31 ft.31 ft. 3 ins.Width9 ins.10½ ins.11½ ins.Depth5¼ ins.5½ ins.5¾ ins.Depth forward3¼ ins.3½ ins.3⅝ ins.Depth aft2½ ins.2½ ins.2⅝ ins.Weight24 lbs.28 lbs.34 lbs.
As to slide, I hold that a man should slide to a point level with his rowing-pin—never past it, lest the boat should be pinched instead of being driven at the beginning of the stroke. The clogs should be fixed at an angle of 55° to the keel (i.e.an angle measured along the back of the clogs). If the angle is much smaller, the feet and legs lose power when the sculler is full back, and the drive at the finish is weakened. If the angle is greater, the difficulty of bending the ankle-joints sufficientlyas the slide moves forward becomes very serious. The distance of fifteen inches from the heel of the clogs to the edge of slide when full forward may be slightly reduced, but only slightly. For instance, if reduced, as is sometimes done, to ten inches, the body comes too close to the heels in the forward position to enable the sculler to get a strong, direct, and immediate drive, and the boat is pinched.
A very old sculling-boat of mine—and perhaps the best that Clasper ever built—was built for Mr. F. I. Pitman in 1886. She owed her pace to the fact that she was very long aft, and consequently never got up by the head; her cut-water was always in the water, even when her occupant was full forward; and the most marvellous thing was that, low as she was, she did not bury her nose, considering that she had to endure a weight of 170 lbs. or so, shifting its position fore and aft to the extent of sixteen inches. She is a marvel of the boat-builder's art, and was built of exceptionally close-framed cedar, which takes a long time to get water-soaked, and indeed should never do so if properly looked after. Her dimensions were: Length, 31 ft. 2 ins.; length from edge of slidingseat when forward to stern-post, 14 ft. 6½ ins.; width, 11¼ ins.; depth forward, 3¼ ins.; depth aft, 2⅝ ins.; depth amidships, 5½ ins.; from heels to back edge of slide when back, 3 ft. 5¼ ins.; leverage,i.e.measurement from thowl to thowl across, 4 ft. 9 ins.; from heels to edge of seat when forward, 15¼ inches. She won the Diamond Sculls in 1886, 1888, 1889, 1890; the amateur championship in 1886, 1887, 1888, 1889, 1890; besides the Metropolitan Sculls and several minor races.
It is a great mistake to try and get a boat too light. The eagerness a man will display in cutting down everything to lessen the weight of his craft, until he is sitting on the water on a weak bit of nothing, is really astounding. Three or four extra pounds often make all the difference, whether a boat is stiff and keeps on travelling, or whether she jumps, cocks her head, and waggles about generally.
As to the pace of stroke, from twenty-two to twenty-six strokes a minute is a fair practice paddle, twenty-four to twenty-eight for sculling hard, and in racing, even for a minute, never attempt anything over thirty-eight. I once sculled seventy-eight strokes in two minutes, and felt more deadthan alive at the end of it. It is harder work to scull thirty-eight strokes in a minute than it is to row forty-four in the same time. If you do start at thirty-eight, drop down as soon as possible to thirty-four, thirty-two, or even thirty, according to circumstances of wind and weather, etc. My best advice to the novice is to go just fast enough to clean out his opponent before the same thing happens to himself, or, even better still, to get his opponent beaten, and leave himself fresh. But always remember if you are at all evenly matched, that however bad you feel yourself, your opponent is probably in just as bad a plight. Talking of pace reminds me of how soon even the best scullers tire. In sculling a course against time at Henley, a good man may get to Fawley, the halfway point, in about the same time as a Pair, and yet will be half a minute slower from that point to the finish; and for the last quarter-mile the veriest tiro can out-scull a champion, provided the latter has gone at his best pace throughout. In scull-racing the advantage of the lead is greater than in rowing, as a sculler can help his own steering by watching the direction of the other's craft. Yet you should never sacrifice your wind to obtain theadvantage, for recollect that in sculling you can never take a blow or an easy for even a stroke. If you are behind, never turn round to look at your opponent, as by doing so you lose balance and pace, and many a good man has lost a race by so doing. Keep just so close up to your man as to prevent him giving you the disadvantage of his back wash.
Training for sculling requires more time and practice than training for rowing. If it takes an Eight 6 weeks to get together and fit to race, it takes a Four 9 weeks, a Pair 12 weeks, and a Sculler 15 weeks. If a man is training for both rowing and sculling at the same time, and racing in both on the same day, it takes lengths and lengths off his pace, for rowing upsets all that precision so necessary in sculling. If a man sculls and rows at Henley, and does both on the same day, and practises for the same daily for a month beforehand, I should think it would make him from six to eight lengths slower on the Henley course. Otherwise, train as you would for rowing, the only difference being that a little more time should be spent in the actual sculling than is spent in the actual rowing.
Having attended Henley Regatta since 1883, and having raced there for twelve years in succession, I have met with various scullers. Mr. J. C. Gardner, taking him all round, was the finest I have ever seen of amateurs. He was quite the best stripped man I have ever seen, his muscles standing out like bars of steel all over his body; he was a very neat, finished sculler, the only fault I could find with him being a tendency to a weak finish. W. S. Unwin, a light weight, was extremely neat, but his style was rather spoilt by a roundish back. F. I. Pitman, his great rival, was perhaps a better stayer, and had a more elegant style. Vivian Nickalls, for a long man, was a fine sculler, handicapped by an awkward finish and handicapped also by the fact that he never entirely gave his time up to sculling only—his chief characteristic being a fine, healthy, long body swing. M. Bidault, a Frenchman, who rowed in the Metropolitan Regatta some years ago, was 7 ft. 4½ ins. high; he weighed 17 stone; his boat weighed 50 lbs., was 35 feet long, had a 5 ft. leverage; his sculls were 11 ft. 10 ins. long. Compare with him Wag Harding, with a boat 19½ lbs. in weight, weighing 9 stone himself, and you willsee in what different forms and shapes men can scull. And M. Bidault was a fast man for a quarter of a mile. The fastest sculler for half a mile I have ever seen was Herr Doering, who sculled for the Diamonds in 1887. The slowest man I have ever seen was—— Well, I won't mention names, as he might go in for the Diamond Sculls again. Rupert Guinness, although not what I should call a born sculler, obtained his great proficiency in sculling by dint of a very long and careful preparation, by months and months of continual practice, and by not hampering his sculling by entering and practising for rowing events at the same time—in fact, by making a speciality of sculling.
(Some Hints to Novice Coxswains.)
By G. L. Davis,Cox of the Cambridge Eight, 1875-79; Cox of Leander, 1880-85.
Many people think that any one, provided he be of the proper weight, is fitted to fill the post of coxswain.
Nobody, however, knows better than the actual rowing man what an amount of useless labour and irritation a crew can be saved by possessing a good man in the stern, not to mention the assistance he can afford both directly and indirectly in getting a crew together. Certainly a mere tiro, having acquired the elementary knowledge that if he pulls the right rudder-line he will turn his boat to starboard,i.e.to the right, and that if he pulls his left line he will turn her to port,i.e.to theleft, may be able to guide a boat sufficiently well for ordinary purposes; but even in the period of training a crew, and still more so in the race, there is undoubtedly plenty of scope for a clever coxswain to distinguish himself. There is no royal road to good steering. Pains and perseverance are necessary, as in every other branch of athletics. The attainment of perfection in steering is not all that is requisite; there are many other qualities added to this skill which combine to make a coxswain worthy to be reckoned in the front rank—a position which all coxswains should aim for.
In the days of Tom Egan the steerer had to act as coach to his crew, but nowadays he is no longer called upon to do so. He is, in the first place, chosen on account of his light weight; but eligible though he may be in this respect, he is too often quite incapable in other ways of performing his duties. Should this be the case, a crew would be well advised in carrying a few more pounds, or even a stone or two extra, if by so doing they manage to gain an able and experienced coxswain. There are certain qualities which are absolutely essential in the right sort. He should have lighthands, judgment, a cool head, and plenty of nerve to enable him to keep his presence of mind in the face of a sudden predicament or unforeseen danger. There are numberless occasions both in practice and during races when risks are run. A boat laden with pleasure-seekers may suddenly pop out from the bank into the course. The coolness of the coxswain may avert very much more serious consequences than the loss of a stroke or two, such as a broken rigger or an injury to an oarsman, by a touch of the rudder and a ready appeal to his crew to mind their oars.
During a University Boat Race, in which I was steering the Cambridge Boat, a waterman's wherry, with two or three occupants, was suddenly pulled out from the Surrey shore at a short distance above Hammersmith Bridge. The course at this point lies somewhat near to the bank, and the Oxford Boat was nearly level with mine. The wherry was directly in my way, and, as far as I could make out, those who were in it seemed to be in doubt as to whether they should row still further out or make for the shore. If I went to the right, a foul was imminent with the Oxford Boat; if to the left, I should have got into slackwater and lost ground by thedétour. There was no time for those in the wherry to waste in making up their minds, so I promptly made straight for them with the object of driving them out of my course. The desired effect followed. They got sufficient way on in the direction of the shore to enable me to steer straight on and clear them. My action involved the ticklish question of judgment of distance and of pace, namely, should I reach the spot before the wherry was clear; and this anecdote illustrates my point—that quickness in making up the mind, and, when it is made up, in acting, isessentialto a coxswain.
The duties of a coxswain consist of many and varied details. To make a smart crew, attention should be paid to discipline both in and out of the boat, and he can and ought to further this object to the utmost of his power, thereby saving the coach or captain a great deal of trouble. If the coxswain of a light eight-oared racing ship has been ordered to get her into the water, he ought to be there to superintend the order being carried out. He should bid his crew "stand by" their riggers, and see that each man is in readiness to lift and carry her to the water's edge. Thereis generally a waterman at hand, but whether there is or not, the coxswain should be ready, if necessary, to remove any stool upon which the ship may have been resting, so as to prevent any stumbling on the part of his men. His place is near the rudder (unless she is launched stern foremost, when, of course, it would be impossible), to prevent any injury happening to it, until the boat is safely in the water. He will then get the oarsmen into her in an orderly manner. There is necessity for this, for otherwise the boat's back may be strained. This might occur by allowing stroke and bow to get in first, owing to a boat of such length and lightness of build being supported in the centre and at the same time weighted at each end. The best order for the men to take their places is, 4, 5, 3, 6, 2, 7, bow, and then stroke. The coxswain should call out their numbers one by one, holding the boat firmly whilst they take their seats, and on no account allow more than one man to get in at the same time. In disembarking, it is part of his duty to see that the crew leave the ship in the reverse order. The coxswain seats himself in the aftermost thwart perfectly upright, with his legs crossed tailor-fashion, andtakes up the rudder-lines one in each hand; and, before he gives any command, should see that his steering gear is in proper order. It is a common and useful custom for the purpose of preventing the hand from slipping, to have attached to each line a piece of wood of about three to four inches in length, and one and a half in circumference, called a tug. These the coxswain clasps tightly, one in each hand. Some coxswains hold their rudder-lines in front of the body, others behind; but in my opinion the best place to hold them is by the side, with the hands resting one on each gunwale. The coxswain, by thus supporting himself, can better preserve a firm and steady seat. He should never slip about on his seat, but always keep his body as nearly as possible erect, and balanced from his hips. He must on no account roll with the boat, and should endeavour to prevent himself being moved to and fro by the action of the rowers. Often a narrow strip of wood is nailed to the seat the better to enable him to sit firm. The lines must be kept taut, and tied together in front of him, lest by any accident he should lose one or both overboard. After having shoved off and paddled into position, heshould see that the bows of his boat point straight for the course he wishes to steer. He will then start his crew by calling upon them to "get ready," when they will divest themselves of any superfluous clothing and make any other necessary preparations. He will then say "Forward!" or "Forward all!" for them to come forward in readiness for the first stroke. He should now take care that his boat is level, and should tell the oarsmen on the side to which she may list to raise their hands, or call upon the crew to get her level. After that he asks, "Are you ready?" as a final warning, and lastly cries, "Row!" or "Paddle!" as may be required. Some other forms are employed, but this is as good as any, and better than most, and the same words should always be used when once adopted. In the event of a crew making a bad start, they should be at once stopped and restarted. If the coxswain be desirous for his crew to stop rowing or paddling, "Easy all!" is the term to use, and this order should be given almost immediately after the commencement of a stroke, to prevent the rowers coming forward for the next one. In case it may be necessary to bring his boat up sharp, he willsay, "Hold her up all!"[12]and if (at any time) there is any danger of the oars touching anything, he should cry, "Mind your oars, bow side," or "stroke side," as the case may be. The boat is ordinarily turned on the port (left) side by calling upon bow and No. 3 to paddle, and stroke and No. 6 to back water, or back, for brevity; and on the starboard (right) side by calling upon Nos. 2 and 4 to paddle, and Nos. 5 and 7 to back. In each case the coxswain naturally assists with the rudder. When turning a racing ship, for fear of weakening her, the paddling and rowing should not take place simultaneously.
[12]This is the term used at Cambridge, where "Hold her" is also used with the same meaning. At Oxford, "Hold her up" means "Paddle on gently;" and "Hold her all," or "Stop her all," would be the order if a sudden stoppage were required. To carry out such an order the rowers turn the blades flat on the water, and raise their hands quickly, thus burying blades in the water.
[12]This is the term used at Cambridge, where "Hold her" is also used with the same meaning. At Oxford, "Hold her up" means "Paddle on gently;" and "Hold her all," or "Stop her all," would be the order if a sudden stoppage were required. To carry out such an order the rowers turn the blades flat on the water, and raise their hands quickly, thus burying blades in the water.
Whatever the coxswain addresses to his crew should be spoken clearly and distinctly, so that all may hear without difficulty. The preceding instructions comprise most of the everyday terms that a coxswain should know.
Now let me turn to his functions of a semi-coaching character, of keeping his crew in time.Whether the crew are rowing or paddling, he must carefully watch the time of the oars, both as they catch the water and leave it. If the oarsman catches the water too soon, he should be told not to hurry; if too late, he should be told, "You're late." If he leaves it too soon, or, as it is called, clips his stroke at the finish, he should be told to finish it out, etc. (but if an oarsman finishes it after the stroke, I cannot advise the coxswain to take notice of it). All these semi-coaching remarks, if I may so call them, should be prefaced with the number of the crew to whom they are addressed, for the purpose of calling his attention, and must be used with judgment and tact, for nothing can be more aggravating, not to say maddening, to an oarsman at any time, more especially when fagged in a race, to hear incessantly the possibly high-pitched and monotonous tones of a coxswain. There is only one fault that will excuse him shouting himself hoarse, if he be so disposed, and it is the fault, or rather vice, of one of the crew looking out of the boat; and he should at once cry, "Eyes in the boat!" and continue to do so until he is obeyed. There are certain acts of watermanship which an efficient coxswain will notneglect to carry out, namely, when turning to come down-stream, to swing his boat round by pulling her head outwards into the current; and, on the other hand, when turning to proceed up-stream, to thrust her nose into the slack water inshore, and allow her stern to come round in the same manner; and always to bring his boat in to the raft or landing-stage with her head pointing up-stream.
There is no need for me to set out the rules of the road for a coxswain to follow, as they can be read at any time in the Rowing Almanack, which comes out annually, and is published at theFieldoffice.
To steer a straight course, a coxswain should fix upon a high and conspicuous object some distance ahead, and endeavour to keep the nose of his boat dead on it; and when learning his course, he should remember to choose objects of a permanent nature, or in the race he will be in difficulties. Now, the keeping of a straight course is not so simple as it appears; in fact, it is a most difficult thing to do properly, and there is no case in which the advantage of a coxswain with light hands is better displayed. It will be noticed thatsuch a one leaves scarcely a ripple in his wake, whilst another will leave a considerable wash. The reason of it is this: that whilst the former uses practically no rudder, the latter, by first pulling one line and then the other, causes the stern of his boat to swing from side to side, until, as the sailors say, she becomes wild—that is to say, so unsteady that the further she travels the more rudder she will require to prevent her bows from yawing and to keep her course. He should never steer for a curve in the bank or for other projections—as, for instance, the buttress of a bridge—in such a manner as to be compelled to sheer out to clear them. He should approach a sharp corner as wide as possible, in order to reduce the acuteness of the angle at which he will have to take it, and should have the boat's head round by the time that the axis or pivot, if I may use the term, on which the boat swings, and which in the eight-oared boats I steered was usually trimmed to be somewhere between the seats of Nos. 4 and 5, is off the most prominent point.
The difficulty of taking this sort of corner is increased when the course lies up-stream, according to the strength of the current; for not onlydoes the current acting on the bows tend to prevent the boat coming round, but also to drive her head towards the opposite bank. When the Cam at Cambridge is in flood, "Grassy" and Ditton are corners of this character, but usually that river runs sluggishly. But even then these corners present many difficulties. "Grassy" is on the right bank of the river, and therefore on the coxswain's left; Ditton is on his right. The former is the harder to manipulate properly, by reason of the river becoming a narrow neck shortly before the corner is reached.
In taking "Grassy," the coxswain should keep close to the tow-path bank until he commences to make the turn. It is impossible to explain on paper the exact spot when he should do so. The common fault is to begin too soon. Practice and experience only can teach him when to time his action correctly; but having acquired this knowledge, he will get his boat round with but a moderate amount of rudder, especially if he call upon bow and No. 3 for a little extra assistance.
Some years ago, during the Lent Term Bumping Races at Cambridge, the coxswain of one of the boats, with the intention of cutting off thepreceding one as it was being steered round in the correct way, took this very corner close to the inside bend at its very commencement, and in so doing acted contrary to the principle of giving a sharp corner a wide berth at the first part. The consequence was that, having failed to calculate the pace at which the other was travelling, and having missed his bump, he found it impossible to bring his boat round, ran high and dry on to the opposite bank, and was, of course, himself bumped.
Ditton should be approached as wide as the coxswain can manage, by hugging the opposite bank until he begins to bring the boat's head round, which, as in the case of Grassy, should not be done until as late as possible. Here, too, Nos. 2 and 4 may be called upon to help her round. The rudder should be put on between the strokes as a rule, gradually, and not with a jerk, which has a tendency to cause the boat to roll. It should be used as lightly as possible, and never under ordinary circumstances put hard on. The effect of a cross wind is to drive the stern of a boat to leeward, and to bring her bows up into the wind. This should be counteracted by the coxswain steering to windward of his usual course,and by lee rudder to meet her: how much can only be learnt by experience, and must be regulated by the strength of the wind. The fin, which is a thin plate of metal fixed slightly abaft the coxswain's seat on her keelson, is of great assistance in keeping the boat straight under such circumstances.
The coxswain should pick up information relating to his course by observation, inquiries, and in every way he can, and, previous to a race, he should take careful stock of the direction and force of the wind, and shape his course accordingly. It is a good plan to be taken over the course either in a row-boat or launch, by some one acquainted with it, for the purposes of instruction. He can gain a general idea of the Putney to Mortlake course by watching the barges which float up and down the river with the tide, and are kept in mid-stream by long sweeps. But every coxswain should learn to scull; he can then not only get his weight down by exercise, if required, but familiarize himself with the set of the stream, flats, and other peculiarities of a course by actual experience. Training for the purpose of reducing the weight of the coxswain is a questionableexpedient; but if practised with moderation, and if natural means are employed, the object, if worth it—which I very much doubt—may be attained, and little harm done; but weakness, the result of excessive wasting, is not unfrequently accompanied with an impaired judgment and loss of nerve, the absence of which may lead to serious consequences. Moreover, a coxswain not only requires a certain amount of physical strength to manage a boat of the length of an eight-oar, but, to do himself justice, should come to the post feeling full of energy and determination. In level races the coxswain of the leading boat should never take his opponents' water, unless reasonably certain that he cannot be overtaken, for a sudden sheer out involving loss of pace and ground at a critical time has before now lost a race; and when alongside, and in close proximity, he should avoid watching the other boat, otherwise he will in all probability steer into it, such is the apparent force of attraction exercised over a coxswain by the opposing crew. One coxswain should not "bore" the other. Boring is the act of one coxswain steering closer and closer to another until he gradually succeeds in pushing him out of his ownwater. This cannot take place when both coxswains engaged are equally skilful, and equally well acquainted with the course, for neither will give way. At the best it is not sportsmanlike, and there is no desire on the part of the majority of rowing men to win a race by the trickery of the coxswains. At the annual University Boat Race Dinner, when the old Blues and other friends assemble to do honour to the two crews, it is the time-honoured custom to drink the health of the coxswains. On one of these occasions, a well-known Oxford coxswain, who, in the fog that prevailed at the start of the race, had been pressed out of his course by the opposing crew, in returning thanks made a witty allusion to the subject in these words: "I have been," he said, "very much interested in this race, but I have also been very much bored." It was a speech meant for the occasion, and was received with the applause it deserved; but it was not meant seriously, nor was it taken so by his equally well-known Cambridge rival.
I may at this point give a word of advice to a coxswain in a Bumping Race. He should, throughout the race, keep his true course, and notfollow any vagaries of the boat in front of him, except with the immediate object of making his bump; he must never shoot for his bump when going round a corner, and ought always to make sure of his position before making a shot, so as not to waste the energy of his men by missing time after time, and zigzagging across the river. When he has been bumped, or has made a bump, he should at once clear out of the way to make room for the boats following. In all races he should encourage his crew at intervals with such expressions as, "Now, you fellows! Well rowed! On to it!" etc. But an incessant flow of language not only sounds ridiculous, but must be a nuisance to the crew themselves. In a ding-dong race, however, when neither crew can get away from the other, he will naturally urge them more strenuously to further exertions. He should watch the time as carefully as in practice, and call upon his crew to "Reach out," or "Keep it long," if he notices that they are getting short and scratchy; and he may quietly keep the stroke posted up in the doings of the opponents, telling him how they are rowing, how far ahead they are, and so on. In training quarters, especially if the crew aredespondent, the more depressed they are, the more he should endeavour to cheer them up and inspire confidence in them.
Finally, let me advise coxswains when steering to wear warm and waterproof clothing in cold and wet weather, and thus possibly save themselves much suffering from rheumatism and other complaints in after-life.
By C. M. Pitman,New College; President O.U.B.C. 1895.
If we try to examine the causes of success or failure, of a run of good crews or bad crews from one University or the other, it is impossible to overestimate the importance of good organization, good management, and friendly rivalry in the college boat clubs. In the long run, the success or failure of the University Crew depends in no small measure upon the amount of trouble taken and the amount of keenness shown by the various colleges in practising for their different races during the year. It is only by very careful coaching and assiduous practice in his college Torpid and Eight, that a man who has not rowed before going up to the University can ever hope to attain to a place in the University Crew; andit is only by trying to apply his learning to advantage in college races during the year that one who has just gained his blue can hope to be of greater value to the University in the following spring.