Marlow Town Regatta

For this race we had practiced long and hard on our stretch of river (which, incidentally, is getting very busy and looking as though there is going to be some sort of event there in the not too distant future). This had meant we had our starts sorted to perfection, our split times were sensational and even the swans had to make an effort to get out of our way. (Stroke recently had a close encounter with one that didn’t approve of his fashion sense).

At the traditional Thursday de-rig session someone had the bright idea of rowing back to Henley from Marlow after our race, and so we informed the trailer tower that if he was missing an eight then he did not have to panic. On race day we all managed to get to Marlow without much incident, various squad members kindly acting as taxi service, despite Seven’s attempts to sabotage the car. An Audi full of Henley ladies managed to stun the parking attendants, although despite this we were not invited into the regatta enclosure.

A quick re-rig and motivational speech from the winning quad members (they were so proud of themselves) we wandered over to the finish line in time to see quads at the finish crashing into stationary boats and going beautifully off course. Despite the race only having two bends in it crews were still struggling to stay in line.

We were kindly directed to a very wobbly landing stage and after a few checks of riggers and the new collars we set off, Cox noticing a new type of duck that had not been seen in Henley. It had been previously observed ferociously seeing of geese and mallards in a successful attempt to get bread.

By the time we got to the start we had sighted one of our opposing crews (Cox attempted to scare them) and we had watched them perform a very slow start. As they were masters D and we were masters C they were to start six seconds ahead of us – something we were all very unhappy about. Needless to say Six and Seven were champing at the bit in order to get going, but showed amazing restraint and waited for the correct “Go” before launching into our amazing start. It turned out that the two opposing crews were certainly made up of a senior men’s fours with a bunch of ladies attached, so not a true mixed eight. And if we had started side by side we would only have lost by a couple of seconds.

On arrival back at the landing stages we were warmly welcomed by our followers who had all the necessary shoes and clobber waiting. Dumping blades in a nearby hedge and nearly knocking a few unobservent people into the river, we pottered the boat back to the trailer and had a picnic. Our groupies then abandoned us to our fate of rowing home.

November rain + Scratch Quads

From a cox’s point of view, November brings rain, the first real cold of the winter and the start of the head season in which hours are spent on the water, waiting in freezing conditions as crews try to sort out long races they would rather not be doing.

From the crew’s point of view head season is great fun, far more exciting than the 2 minutes spent charging down a regatta course. It gives the excuse of spending hours outside messing about in boats with a genuinely good reason. Sadly however due to the fact that the wind was so strong we failed to make it past the bridge today. Crosswinds meant steering was a rather more active process than usual, and squaring outside the water seemed to be very difficult. This meant that after an hour or so we decided that cups of tea would  be far more beneficial to racing morale than actual rowing.

The following day we embarked on the scratch quad racing in order to break in a new group of rowers who had been on the learn-to-row course. This always brings out the best in both rowers and coxes as we are set against each other in a series of races over 200 m. A few turns about the islands and we were ready to go. The stern loaders looked low in the water and terribly slow, despite one particular senior rower who could have probably rowed the boat alone. The bow loaded crew however were fast and sleek in the water, cutting through the waves and waving at the geese.

Each of the four crews had three races, three races to prove themselves, three races to win. To my astonishment and delight my crew won two out of the three. On the third final race we were soundly beaten by the bow man of the opposing crew, much to the amusement of everyone else. Next time we will win for certain.

Time Trials – October 2015

The world is currently gripped in rugby world cup fever, this has meant much shouting at an unresponsive television and a few too many glasses of wine. Now England is out it all seems a bit silly.

So to compensate for this Henley rowing club masters have been training hard for the Phyllis court time trials. These happen every year on our stretch of the river and it is a chance for us to show off again. Two masters crews entered (we feel very strongly that it is important for other people to have a go at winning some prizes) and then the crew and groupies not competing were instructed to be on the bank waving flags.

It is a very short course (from Upper Thames to Phyllis Court) and as such requires minimum effort to complete. We are no novices to this race, we have completed it many times, usually getting to the finish in one piece. Indeed, it is rumored that two members of the crew once had a ‘domestic’ in a boat as to where the finish line was, which became the local gossip of Phyllis court for months to follow.

The usual cox had been replaced by another more attractive model for this race (we do take appearances very seriously) and so was able to act as photographer for the morning. This is a task that was undertaken seriously, and as such she and a couple of others started the day at Patisserie Valerie in the market place to ensure that they were well prepared for the rigors of the day ahead. Incidentally, Patisserie Valerie do a superb breakfast. It was perhaps unfortunate that Henley half marathon was also on the same day, this meant that once we were on position on the tow path these slightly sweaty people kept running past, blocking the view to the river. We cheered on the first few (these were the race leaders) and then after a while got bored and so were left commenting on how serious they looked, and why was it that despite running a half marathon many of the women looked highly glamorous? This was in direct contrast to all of the men who did not come close. 

Amidst all of this, there were rowers racing about on the river. Being the experts that we now are, a lot of time was spent criticising the technique of the sculling and offering handy tips. After another swarm of runners had passed we spotted the ladies crew powering down and we cheered them on as best we could from the wrong side.

Happy in the knowledge that the men would soon be following the spectators admired the ducks, made polite noises to the runners and commented on how frightful it was that there was no champagne on this side of the river. After half an hour we gave up and went into Henley to find coffee and cake, hoping that we had been too late to see the boys rowing. Sadly they had spent so long doing their hair and makeup they didn’t race for another hour, by which time the photographer had gone home.

Still no cygnets

Mayflies out in force! An interesting species which spend only 24 hours or so as a live adult. There is one species (Dolania americana) which only manages 5 minutes as an adult; obviously being a grown up is very stressful. Huge clouds are currently flying about the river.

No cygnets. Eggs all present and correct, sun still shining on the swan!

Last row of April

Despite April supposedly being a wet month we have hardly got wet at all in the last few weeks. And if we did it was usually due to enthusiastic racing starts rather than rain. This evening was no exception – on arrival at the boat club in spite of a large amount of juniors the sun was shining. The moon evidently felt it was being outdone and was trying to make an appearance, which we duly noted at the lock.

Throughout the outing there were numerous announcements from various people about birds sitting on things, one presumes that they sit on nests, however as birds aren’t especially intelligent it may be they aren’t.

A few racing starts were practiced, we flew through the water on each occasion, moving well ahead of the four that was threatening to overtake.

The swan nesting on the landing stage seems to be attracting a large amount of attention, both on and off the water. We had by the time we reached the nesting site managed to stay ahead of a pair who claim some sort of international title (they sometimes got to a rating of 20) and so there was a brief pause for the crew to admire the swans.

 It still seems to be keeping company with a duck. Let’s hope it isn’t too confused about these things, otherwise there may well be another ugly duckling incident.

 Looking back to Temple Island the river was looking suitably stunning, calm as a millpond and hardly a cloud to be seen. The regatta tents and enclosures are springing up all over the place, fewer than eight weeks to go before we are undoubtedly called to grace the Regatta with our excellent presence.

Past the bridge we were surrounded by a bevy of swans who seemed immensely curious about the rowing theme. Some were obviously last year’s cygnets and probably feeling a bit rejected by parents who were more interested in producing the next generation than looking after irritating adolescents.

As cox had informed the crew of the possibility of coot nesting activity we tiptoed past the islands on our way back to the club. Instead of the loud bang of ‘fast hands’ we managed a very gentle, quiet and controlled row. Much to my annoyance however the coot was sat firmly on its nest and refused to allow us a look at its bald chicks. A different approach might be needed! The parent was studiously ignoring us.

After a few more ‘hold it ups’ for a few previously unnoticed nesting sites we made it back to the club where the crew had to practice their support for the HRC bar.