Novices, episode I: Drenched but happy

Saturday was a nasty-looking day weather-wise, so I put on my comparatively recently-purchased and unworn spray jacket and went down to the boathouse. There were quite a few novices there, and I was designated as 'someone who can row' and put in the group going out in the 8. This was quite funny considering I'd only been to one other training session and only had a go on the 'erg'.

The 8 we were taking out was positively ancient and made of wood instead of the space-age materials they use these days. As a result it was painfully heavy, and took 10 people to carry it out of the boathouse. We got it into the water without incident and one expert and three novices with lots of experience took the bow 4 places. There was debate as to where to put the rest of us - in the end the two other guys took the next two places (4 and 3) which left me and Fran (the only women) for 2 and stroke. Lucky me - I was put in stroke, which is directly in front of and facing the cox, hence I couldn't see what the others were doing. Worse than that, it was me who was to set the rhythm of the stroke which is ridiculous seeing I hadn't set blade to water yet.

We had a few pointers before getting in the boat, and I learnt a couple of new things, such as how to get into the boat without sinking it. I got into my seat (relief at not having put my foot through the bottom of the boat) and got my blade in the rowlock (not sure what the technical term for this is). I was extremely surprised at how light the blades are. I had to move the foot holds back towards my seat about 5 notches, and the built-in shoes are huge and quite awful.

Anyway, we pushed off the bank and headed off downstream. It took me a while to get used to the side-to-side rocking, and then to the motion of the stroke. The bow 4 began us off and the rest of us had to stabilise the boat by dragging the curved side of the blade in the water behind us at the correct angle. Then the stern 4 (including me) rowed for a while with just arms, then for a while with arms and body. We got interrupted a few times with barges going by or other boats overtaking us (and I think at this stage I 'caught a crab', meaning my blade dipped down too deep in the water, slowed the boat and the handle nearly hit me in the face). We also did some exercises teaching us how balance in the boat works (quite scary how little it takes) and to try to co-ordinate our blades. We must have turned around at the downstream end, but I don't remember this. We went off back upstream and finally the stern 4 got around to rowing with a quarter slide, then a half slide and finally a full slide. The first quarter slide I did was a complete disaster. I lost my timing completely and my catch (the blade touching the water) happened before I wanted it to, and splashed all over the place. I finally got the hang of it, but the good technique I'd leant on the erg went completely out the window. At around this stage, the wooden cross-bar in the boat started bruising the backs of my legs and really hurt (I'm just too short!!).

Then there was a downpour, but we all outvoted the cox on staying out. Lucky, because the sun came out brightly not long after. At one stage we had six of us rowing, and the boat was flying. We then got to Jesus lock and had to turn around again. This was achieved fairly gracefully, but the bow 2 were a bit too eager, and took a great big stroke that brought us in rather sharp contact with one of the narrowboats. There was a man on the bank looking rather concerned, so it may even have been his boat. We beat as hasty a retreat as possible.

Having turned, I think the bow 4 took over, and got a very good rhythm going. Then we got to the other end and had to turn around again. The wind was blowing quite angrily and while we might have stopped in the widest part of the river, by the time we started to turn and let any traffic through, we'd been blown into a narrower part. With number 8 on the bow rowing, and me 'backing it up' we turned rather well under the circumstances I thought.

We then took off again upstream with the stern 4 rowing. The cox encouraged us to try 'feathering' which means that the blade goes in the water square (straight up and down) but as soon as you take it out, you have to flatten it to reduce wind resistance. Fran and I decided we were going to concentrate on just getting the rest right (Fran had been out 3 or 4 times) but the cox had us give it a go. Again, my catch was ruined, but I managed one or two strokes feathering and with a clean catch. It was dodgy because I was spinning the blade in my hands rather than just flicking my wrist, but I can read up on that and learn it properly for next time. I rather think that feathering is a bit advanced for the likes of me and Fran at this stage. While I was concentrating on my feathering, my blade came dangerously close to concussing a swan. It didn't seem the least bit concerned that a boatful of crazy people with long wooden things was coming dangerously close. The mallards seem much more sensible.

Anyway, after that I was worn out, and something else happened to stop us again, and the bow 4 took us back into the club (very gracefully I might add). We'd been out for about an hour and a half but it felt like 20 minutes. We got out, everyone else found their shoes except me, we lifted the heavy boat out of the water, and then over our heads (somehow) and half went one way and half the other and took the boat onto our shoulders. Then walked it back to the trestle in front of the boathouse and I got very wet and dirty socks. Then washed the hull (there's a really horrid oil slick on the river) and put it away.

It was very fun, and I'm looking forward to this Saturday, though perhaps I'd better have another week on the ergs to analyse how I can do it better next time. Or maybe I'll have to go out in 'the tub' (eek). 'The tub' is this tiny little thing that only fits two rowers and a cox. I think it's even more ancient that the wooden 8 because it seems to have fancy ironwork on the cox's seat.