Eventful third row. Spoiler: we rowed over (meaning we neither made a bump nor got bumped). But that bare fact doesn't give a flavour of the experience.
Our crew includes a guy (Jamie) who is not actually with our law firm, but is the boyfriend of a female trainee (one of our coaches) who is. He's a schoolteacher down in Hertfordshire so needs to drive back up the M11 to join us for the races. He can't make it to the boathouse for when we get the boat out, so we arrange to meet him half way down the river to the race start and get another squad member (in practice, one of the women) to row with us in that seat down to the rendezvous. So, today there was an accident on the M11 and Jamie was held up in a jam to the point where he clearly couldn't make it. Cue frantic ringing around of anyone we know who can row and who would be eligible to sub into our crew on zero notice - work colleagues expecting to be in the office for another hour or two etc. Time was incredibly tight, but we got hold of one of our squad who was not supposed to be rowing tonight but was willing to drop everything and race over on his bike. He finally made it, cycling down the towpath to join us at our starting post 10 minutes before the start gun. Much to the relief of Jessica, who was fearful of having to row the race with us. (Women are allowed to row in the men's crews but not vice versa for obvious reasons; in practice that only happens in emergencies.) Not an issue that she's a woman, there are a few in our women's crew who I'm sure would make a more useful contribution to the movement of the boat than I do. But she is one of the smaller women and, crucially, a novice this year. Anyway, Ed arrived and we, Jessica especially, have never been so happy to see him.
So. all sorted? Hardly! Ed needed to adjust the positioning of his footplate for his longer legs than Jessica's. Normally not too much of an issue but sometimes if the mechanism is a bit "sticky", it can be unmoveable for a while then suddenly move too fast as you pull at it, and come off altogether, at which point it's a bugger to reattach. Guess what happened, around four minutes before the start cannon. Clive, the old hand from the club who always pushes us out from the bank for the race start, got on the case, quietly cursing under his breath. Nightmare job, the clock ticking down. He always starts to push the boat gently off from the bank for the race start around 35 seconds from the start cannon. Ed's footplate was finally screwed into the correct position just under 40 seconds before the start, so with 5 seconds to spare. Felt like one of those Bond film scenes with the timer display counting down to the bomb going off.
Then the race started. We had a bloody awful first 30 or 40 seconds, and the boat chasing us closed the gap to less than half a boat's length (the boats start 1 and a half boat lengths gap from each other), but we suddenly got it together and calmly put down the power and drew steadily away from them, ending the race around 5 or 6 lengths clear. No chance of making a bump as the boats ahead of us had already bumped out in pairs. But rowing over felt like an absolute triumph, given that we got bumped the first two days and came so close to getting bumped again today. And, wonderfully, this was the first day that my wife and my 8 year old daughter had made the trip over to the Plough to watch us from the riverside beer garden, and they saw our crew racing. So chuffed. And, because of the bump ahead of us today, we're chasing a relatively slow boat tomorrow, so I may still, on the final day, make my first ever bump.
Our crew includes a guy (Jamie) who is not actually with our law firm, but is the boyfriend of a female trainee (one of our coaches) who is. He's a schoolteacher down in Hertfordshire so needs to drive back up the M11 to join us for the races. He can't make it to the boathouse for when we get the boat out, so we arrange to meet him half way down the river to the race start and get another squad member (in practice, one of the women) to row with us in that seat down to the rendezvous. So, today there was an accident on the M11 and Jamie was held up in a jam to the point where he clearly couldn't make it. Cue frantic ringing around of anyone we know who can row and who would be eligible to sub into our crew on zero notice - work colleagues expecting to be in the office for another hour or two etc. Time was incredibly tight, but we got hold of one of our squad who was not supposed to be rowing tonight but was willing to drop everything and race over on his bike. He finally made it, cycling down the towpath to join us at our starting post 10 minutes before the start gun. Much to the relief of Jessica, who was fearful of having to row the race with us. (Women are allowed to row in the men's crews but not vice versa for obvious reasons; in practice that only happens in emergencies.) Not an issue that she's a woman, there are a few in our women's crew who I'm sure would make a more useful contribution to the movement of the boat than I do. But she is one of the smaller women and, crucially, a novice this year. Anyway, Ed arrived and we, Jessica especially, have never been so happy to see him.
So. all sorted? Hardly! Ed needed to adjust the positioning of his footplate for his longer legs than Jessica's. Normally not too much of an issue but sometimes if the mechanism is a bit "sticky", it can be unmoveable for a while then suddenly move too fast as you pull at it, and come off altogether, at which point it's a bugger to reattach. Guess what happened, around four minutes before the start cannon. Clive, the old hand from the club who always pushes us out from the bank for the race start, got on the case, quietly cursing under his breath. Nightmare job, the clock ticking down. He always starts to push the boat gently off from the bank for the race start around 35 seconds from the start cannon. Ed's footplate was finally screwed into the correct position just under 40 seconds before the start, so with 5 seconds to spare. Felt like one of those Bond film scenes with the timer display counting down to the bomb going off.
Then the race started. We had a bloody awful first 30 or 40 seconds, and the boat chasing us closed the gap to less than half a boat's length (the boats start 1 and a half boat lengths gap from each other), but we suddenly got it together and calmly put down the power and drew steadily away from them, ending the race around 5 or 6 lengths clear. No chance of making a bump as the boats ahead of us had already bumped out in pairs. But rowing over felt like an absolute triumph, given that we got bumped the first two days and came so close to getting bumped again today. And, wonderfully, this was the first day that my wife and my 8 year old daughter had made the trip over to the Plough to watch us from the riverside beer garden, and they saw our crew racing. So chuffed. And, because of the bump ahead of us today, we're chasing a relatively slow boat tomorrow, so I may still, on the final day, make my first ever bump.
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