tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68338516348793057222024-02-25T21:13:24.695+00:00Expedition RowingGoing beyond regattas and head racesExpedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-83225849646845965142021-08-30T12:59:00.010+01:002021-08-31T07:55:42.619+01:00Circumnavigating Hayling Island<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgox1Te7yakvaaZEXMLpSLJuNv2hrtzFb2k9zHkxpz8_qNOU_1X6KPsTj9-zsqte4KsRD-CyIhaN5OgkqT6aQEBQCd0D91or5vZXTwY0N-jNisJHMnxmB5XFnn5bxBbFPHJUlQyPGJuBmE/s2048/DSC_0545.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1362" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgox1Te7yakvaaZEXMLpSLJuNv2hrtzFb2k9zHkxpz8_qNOU_1X6KPsTj9-zsqte4KsRD-CyIhaN5OgkqT6aQEBQCd0D91or5vZXTwY0N-jNisJHMnxmB5XFnn5bxBbFPHJUlQyPGJuBmE/s320/DSC_0545.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />After so many adventures lost the the pandemic, at long last it was time to plan a proper on-water, Jelly Baby-fuelled, Ooievaar-accompanied (more on him later) rowing expedition again. <div><p style="text-align: left;">For maximum joy, I felt this needed fulfill two criteria: first, for it to be a coastal row - that winning combination of rowing and playing by the beach - and second, to be a circumnavigation of an island (enabling a round trip with a clear success criterion). The perfect solution was Mike Gilbert and the Hayling Island-based <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Coastal-Rowing-Academy-246170179852569" target="_blank">Coastal Rowing Academy</a>. </p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p></p><p>Initially, Mike rightly pointed out that there are two particularly tricky pieces of water in the south corners of Hayling Island, which were no place for 'coastal novices', but despite that being a fair description of our rowing CVs, our other credentials got us through his risk assessment, and a plan was hatched. Then we realised that the tides on our chosen date would mean boating at 5.30am, so we ditched it, and rescheduled for a few weeks later. This turned out to be a metorological master stroke as it chucked it down on Plan A day. That said, a week before Plan B day the forecast was looking a bit too breezy, and disappointingly damp. I checked with Mike whether this was the weather he had ordered, and he replied that it wasn't, so he sent that weather back and ordered some that was more suitable - pleasantly warm, no rain, and a 'Goldilocks' wind that made the rowing fun but without actual wave deluges.</p><span><!--more--></span><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2CTTRC0oXufLYe0puzc2dTsCX_BHf2bg_UpIJEA3DGZUzlFeYAhOCi0t2FVJZZgiPoEbmijx7kH3L-z5iyvM4owUVGfdmC65WltxXv9xmf82-1OUhBQMoJAOwJToO2IQkmf_Sl_FfF2A/s443/HI-route.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="290" data-original-width="443" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2CTTRC0oXufLYe0puzc2dTsCX_BHf2bg_UpIJEA3DGZUzlFeYAhOCi0t2FVJZZgiPoEbmijx7kH3L-z5iyvM4owUVGfdmC65WltxXv9xmf82-1OUhBQMoJAOwJToO2IQkmf_Sl_FfF2A/w400-h261/HI-route.jpg" width="400" /></a></b></div><b><br />Route</b>: Round Hayling Island anti-clockwise, starting and finishing Northney Marina on the north coast <p></p><p><b>Distance</b>: 21.9km</p><p><b>Boat</b>: FISA-style coastal coxed quad</p><p><b>Time</b>: 2 hours 10 mins (plus 10 mins cox-swapping time)</p><p><b>Safety and photography</b>: Mike and Gail of the Coastal Rowing Academy</p><span><!--more--></span><p>Almost as soon as we'd set off, we were faced with the only two steering obstacles on the route: the road bridge and the abandoned buttresses of the long-gone Billy Line railway bridge. Mike's invaluable local knowledge advised us that we'd fit through any of the arches in the former, but we'd only get through a kind of reinforced gateway in the latter. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPG3MpWGzrK9gxIUzvsSP34gt4BYoW5zK1fq3Tz70yTfPMkEHGLIzFfPDj9gtkgPtKFon0wcmkFPcMIwg0mYa9quId9zFItnVaU1nzX7HcK8Nq4_Utrdpe4XW1Q4O7O-HeEJnYuN0daRU/s2048/DSC_0556.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1362" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPG3MpWGzrK9gxIUzvsSP34gt4BYoW5zK1fq3Tz70yTfPMkEHGLIzFfPDj9gtkgPtKFon0wcmkFPcMIwg0mYa9quId9zFItnVaU1nzX7HcK8Nq4_Utrdpe4XW1Q4O7O-HeEJnYuN0daRU/w640-h426/DSC_0556.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p>The Billy Line gap turned out to be much more generously proportioned than we'd feared, but it was good Naomi checked, just in case. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVQPq2r8NZ5xPNQwZXavXjd5qshiiNufLKn1DYvXn9SSDVpEsT-5vbHbBh9g-3tqL56u3t7HE0T562jiMfDC3y2sdoRjOJB7pYuIVAXzEuTA9kQiTjeOebIuppNf2Ar42E68ALxLJsSQ/s2048/DSC_0558.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1362" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVQPq2r8NZ5xPNQwZXavXjd5qshiiNufLKn1DYvXn9SSDVpEsT-5vbHbBh9g-3tqL56u3t7HE0T562jiMfDC3y2sdoRjOJB7pYuIVAXzEuTA9kQiTjeOebIuppNf2Ar42E68ALxLJsSQ/w640-h426/DSC_0558.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />Talking of bows, readers will spot that Naomi was preceded through the gap by Ooievaar the stork, suitably waterproofed and taped on so he wasn't accidentally washed overboard. For readers who aren't familiar with Ooievaar, Sandra, Tricky and I won him at a rowing marathon in the Hague (the city's emblem is an eel-eating stork) in 2017, and he's been making guest appearances at rowing events around Europe ever since.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Qw9wrLPu37_1F8NzkKITUVslTU9zr_8uH5A6kYIf-E8WK23JsCl8vpGJ6vWzSzfMIr9zI_N1jnTWo__1CwO-k2rLCdcJK5T7VUtyEBRa513p6RaOp8GuZNqnVu-g0u8Z3SJnHsXx8z4/s2048/DSC_0545.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1362" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Qw9wrLPu37_1F8NzkKITUVslTU9zr_8uH5A6kYIf-E8WK23JsCl8vpGJ6vWzSzfMIr9zI_N1jnTWo__1CwO-k2rLCdcJK5T7VUtyEBRa513p6RaOp8GuZNqnVu-g0u8Z3SJnHsXx8z4/w640-h426/DSC_0545.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p>Back to the circumnavigation. Now out the the sheter of the bridge, we turned the corner, and headed down the western side of the sland. There was a stiff-ish north-westerly side-breeze blowing, which gave the water exactly the kind of wrinkles needed to make it clear we weren't just doing an ordinary rover outing in an extra-heavy boat. With the bows bouncing around most, safety-conscious Naomi suggested that seat belts might be a good idea. Afterwards, Mike told us that we might have been better off eschewing our river-typical 'lightweights in the bows' crew order and put some of our heavier members there, to keep the front of the boat cutting through the waves rather than over it. One to remember for next time (more on that in due course).</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Rn04aTkdFQV7ZjwBiyzj9Ml9kDumxhNhi0PDyeVGYVBUWlab-S4S4eECvglWCgyLT1TyqV81WgBrY0a8SU9KJXOCE2LORlurCR-5RL8E_5YC-3AwvYhhHdNNQ_Jm4ctQrnY272_KjYw/s2048/DSC_0577.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1362" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Rn04aTkdFQV7ZjwBiyzj9Ml9kDumxhNhi0PDyeVGYVBUWlab-S4S4eECvglWCgyLT1TyqV81WgBrY0a8SU9KJXOCE2LORlurCR-5RL8E_5YC-3AwvYhhHdNNQ_Jm4ctQrnY272_KjYw/w640-h426/DSC_0577.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daylight under the bows doesn't help a boat go straight.</td></tr></tbody></table><p>There were sights to see all over the place; nice white chalk cliffs behind us, the top of the Spinnaker Tower in Portsmouth over to our bowside, and then a close pass on a chunk of the concrete D-Day Landings Mulberry Harbour. </p><p>All too soon, we were at the bottom of the island, where we pulled into a beach (you can see the little nibble in the course on the map) so that I could swap into the coxing seat so we had the strongest crew and most experienced cox for the more challenging conditions along the un-sheltered coast of the island. We were quickly past the first of the tricky bits Mike had warned us about was a shoal area with strong currents - actually quite visible as the sea colour changed - and out into, well, not exactly the open Solent, but some much livelier conditions.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir85EduYVagf4N9KXDC44wJOUk1C-HeNl4o15bysIvrqn_KTTD7bWDlnmDFPmbQAAG5zD_D7ybn_Xx2vXnS0TTO1Qef89MbbSBwo5I3yaEGtqClmGhu_cKOGBbUQy8F4pKfqNG5rhp6h4/s2048/DSC_0590.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1362" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir85EduYVagf4N9KXDC44wJOUk1C-HeNl4o15bysIvrqn_KTTD7bWDlnmDFPmbQAAG5zD_D7ybn_Xx2vXnS0TTO1Qef89MbbSBwo5I3yaEGtqClmGhu_cKOGBbUQy8F4pKfqNG5rhp6h4/w640-h426/DSC_0590.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />New sights out on the wonderfully sparkly water included breaking waves, coloured beach huts, and lots and LOTS of yachts (probably just dinghies, actually, but that doesn't rhyme). I wondered out loud why they were crowding into the same small patch of the water when there was plenty more to go around; Sandra, who has sailed here for years, explained that it would be because that was where the best wind was. Honestly, life's so much easier propelled by oars.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL6WhzyibRLSXWmpQYunwz0NUSoa84mp-ijUI3J2z5NGVsJxgUXfYlTEtRblZ1ZWVHoeQsVIptQbQlcG7FMUQOSyHPdIvkmpeJEuD6gNlgjig5-3BaPF6ORUvwGLpj77XfSW61CAZHHsw/s2547/DSC_0607+%25282%2529.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1235" data-original-width="2547" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL6WhzyibRLSXWmpQYunwz0NUSoa84mp-ijUI3J2z5NGVsJxgUXfYlTEtRblZ1ZWVHoeQsVIptQbQlcG7FMUQOSyHPdIvkmpeJEuD6gNlgjig5-3BaPF6ORUvwGLpj77XfSW61CAZHHsw/w640-h310/DSC_0607+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>After rounding the south easter corner of the island we did our final cox swap and passed round Rachael's yoghurt-covered raisins (having misguidedly left the Jelly Babies in a dry bag in the safety boat with Mike), scoffing the lot. It's amazing how hungry sea air makes you. </div><div><br /></div><div>The final part of the row up from Chichester Harbour was different in character again from the first two sections. The water was much calmer in the shelter of the island, but also massively busier with yachts moored all over the place, motoring in and out and in some cases, sailing with full spinakers, so there was plenty to look at. A highlight was the restored Victorian oyster boat <i>Terror</i> which now provides tourist trips.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGHB1umgPUWyMupNLPwiH42GzBtElbYomlGcJERdTKt783uvmnmwZGKnmT6Vk3eEMYX052poFupVY80wcoyzdA1MhKqtWJdR6K8aS8ynxivqNhPJF3WpZDdtSxDTNULlaGDyvHmkGCIEc/s2532/DSC_0616+%25282%2529.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1242" data-original-width="2532" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGHB1umgPUWyMupNLPwiH42GzBtElbYomlGcJERdTKt783uvmnmwZGKnmT6Vk3eEMYX052poFupVY80wcoyzdA1MhKqtWJdR6K8aS8ynxivqNhPJF3WpZDdtSxDTNULlaGDyvHmkGCIEc/w640-h314/DSC_0616+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>The fun ended really rather too soon, after just two hours and 20 minutes on the water (10 of them swapping); it turned out we were the first coxed quad that Mike knew of to have circumnavigated Hayling Island, although there's an <a href="http://www.roundhaylingrace.co.uk/" target="_blank">annual race</a> for more traditional fixed-seat gigs and cutters. He reckons our time doesn't count even as an unoffical, local record, though, because we got out of the boat to swap coxes (if we'd known, we would have done scrambling changes!), so we'll no doubt be back some time - maybe in next year's race to show those fixed seat crews the many benefits of sliding seats.</div><div><br /></div><div>All in all, it was a grand day out with our new friend, who made doubly sure that we'd be back by dangling the opportunity of another circumnavigation - the Isle of Wight. Irresistable, and definitely on the list for 2022.</div></div>Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com0Hayling Island, United Kingdom50.7947565 -0.97601869999999979-0.7397441313264963 -71.2885187 90 69.3364813tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-31061837338816546662020-04-08T21:09:00.000+01:002020-04-08T21:11:47.084+01:00Churchboat rowing in the garden<br />
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During the coronavirus pandemic, rowers are staying home (protecting our national health services and saving lives), but that doesn't mean that we can't go on our favourite rowing expeditions; we just have to find new ways to do so.<br />
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Here, we have recreated the unique, cramped style of churchboat rowing, which we learned when competing in the Sulkavan Suursudout, to our Waterrower. Real churchboats are coxed 14s, but obviously that's not possible when in self-isolation.<br />
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You can read about our actual churchboat adventure in Finland at the Sulkavan Suursoudut in 2014 (which also explains why there's a jar of gherkins sitting on the tank of our waterrower) <a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.com/2014/07/the-sulkava-rowing-race-15-have-fun-in.html">here</a>.Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com2Surrey, UK51.314759300000013 -0.559950150.678964300000011 -1.8508436 51.950554300000015 0.73094339999999991tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-35674629054423491482020-04-05T11:58:00.003+01:002020-04-05T12:00:39.543+01:00Meandering in the garden<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhysk59xnB8VEA0MTcj-7kjEsGiX6Ql0I16e_y2da9aaZaXDBqRIwwVInRHr-nBAr_vhfcolKzeh8IcP0Fe9otoQzq3IZco3PF8fIbToyzJ9PeYhyphenhyphenyryPaCWhw1v0YelpCS_J7CZyXAKsY/s1600/Thames+Ditton+Lock.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="1082" height="106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhysk59xnB8VEA0MTcj-7kjEsGiX6Ql0I16e_y2da9aaZaXDBqRIwwVInRHr-nBAr_vhfcolKzeh8IcP0Fe9otoQzq3IZco3PF8fIbToyzJ9PeYhyphenhyphenyryPaCWhw1v0YelpCS_J7CZyXAKsY/s200/Thames+Ditton+Lock.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
Even though us skiffers can't get out on the water because of coronavirus self-isolation, we can still go on our usual springtime meander. Well, sort of.<br />
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The mileage is a lot easier, but there are still friendly (if fake) lock keepers, Jelly Babies, and unfeasibly large cushions.<br />
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Wait, did that duck move?<br />
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You can <a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.com/search/label/Skiffing">read more about skiffing meanders here >></a><br />
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And about <a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.com/2014/05/the-rules-of-expedition-rowing.html">the Rules of Expedition Rowing here >></a><br />
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<br />Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com2Thames Ditton, UK51.389686 -0.33918951.3500515 -0.41987 51.429320499999996 -0.258508tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-82678115177110152482019-09-01T12:46:00.000+01:002019-09-13T17:30:49.582+01:00The Tale of the Flexy Scullers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3X4y1oQg3R8Zry5CM1HW4Ee8lWqeFTNPcznJSx64_xtLG-nAQJ9Vlm2t-rh3yzRGQJNgXo8Ha5HFwT6eNS5CAzOjFmcDTcL2qki34ZfQK_kM5U9bNMijq4xMrJE2_M76opk7FxOz-fs/s1600/IMG-20190913-WA0021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3X4y1oQg3R8Zry5CM1HW4Ee8lWqeFTNPcznJSx64_xtLG-nAQJ9Vlm2t-rh3yzRGQJNgXo8Ha5HFwT6eNS5CAzOjFmcDTcL2qki34ZfQK_kM5U9bNMijq4xMrJE2_M76opk7FxOz-fs/s200/IMG-20190913-WA0021.jpg" width="200" /></a>Once upon a time there were five little scullers and their names were Coxy, Hipsy, JV, Mandy and Rachel. They lived in sand banks underneath the roots of very big fir trees (well, something like that) all over the country, but often went rowing together.<br />
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One fine day they decided they'd like to go on the British Rowing Tour of the Lake District; that combination of 'Lake District' and 'rowing' being totally irresistible, of course.<br />
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Unfortunately, once they got there it was no longer a fine day, even though it was August. "Damn, it's going to be blowing a hoolie," said Rachel, checking the forecast on her phone. And that's exactly what it did.<br />
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"Now my dears," said the safety adviser to the 50 or so expectant rowers who had gathered at Derwent Water on the first day, "It's looking a bit rough, so we'd like to send out a sacrificial, I mean, <i>test</i> crew, one-to-one with the safety boat so we can find out if it's rowable."<br />
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"Us, please, us!" said Coxy straight away. "That's our cox!," JV laughed.<br />
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They took lifejackets, waterproofs, flipflops, waterbottles (yeah, those were useful), bailers and tools and went down the lane to the beachy bit where everyone helped them launch their touring coxed quad in a sheltered bay. The water was lovely and clear, both the stuff in the lake and the stuff coming down from the sky.<br />
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Before setting off , Coxy reminded them of the importance of holding on to the boat if it did swamp, and explained that they'd number off from bow once they were in the water if this happened, and how they'd turn it back over again if needed. As she was always in charge, the line of command was built in, and advantage they had over many of the other crews who had not spent decades rowing together.<br />
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Once they rowed out of the sheltered bay and round the corner to the top of the lake, it got a bit choppier, but it was still OK. The safety boat came to join them. "Go down the west side," the safety adviser said, adding, "It'll probably get a bit rougher once you're past those little islets about 600m from here."<br />
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Off they went, sitting up and bracing their cores, and emphasising the circle at their finishes to get their blades out of trouble. The rowers couldn't see what they were heading to, of course. But Coxy could. "Um, it looks like there's a lie of surf at those islets," she shouted as they headed towards what the French would describe as a flock of sheep (we have 'white horses'm they have 'moutons') whose coats were so white they might have been washed by Mrs Tiggy-Winkle. As the boat's bows passed the islets the water became decidedly corrugated and waves started breaking through the riggers. They stuck with it for a good 15 strokes, just to be certain it was a no-go.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the flat bit. Islets on the starboard bow.</td></tr>
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They retreated to the rowable bit, but after a while the safety boat asked them to come back in from the playground. This proved tricky as the wind had freshened even more and they had to head perpendicular into the waves. Everyone worked hard on staying relaxed in their arms and shoulders so they could feel the water and go with whatever it was doing, and Coxy tried to warn them each time a 'big one' was coming. The hull parried them pretty well, but nothing could stop the waves breaking up through the riggers, and by the time they got back, their footwells had filled up to deck level, and they were as wet as if they'd jumped into a watering can to hire from an irate gardener with a pie-making wife.<br />
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Coxy, Rachel and JV spent the afternoon in the <a href="https://www.derwentart.com/en-gb/c/about/company/derwent-pencil-museum" target="_blank">Pencil Museum</a>, which made Coxy happy as she'd been wanting to go there for years. Mandy refused to join them because she was also a fell runner, and that ilk have a saying, "It's not bad enough to need to go to the Pencil Museum." It takes all sorts. Hipsy went to play with her granddaughter. Indoors.<br />
<br />
The next day dawned dry and only breezy. They ran (well, drove) straight to Bassenthwaite Lake and squeezed under the gate (again, just go with this).<br />
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After baling out all over the boats which were full of leaves, they hopped into theirs and paddled off. Hipsy coxed so Coxy could row. Behind them, Coxy could see Armathwaite Hall which had jolly fine lawns stretching down to the lake shore. They rowed south, but were careful not to go right to the far end of the lake where there's an exclusion zone near osprey nests, so they turned across the lake and came back up the other side. It started to rain, and Hipsy despaired of Rachel (who was the Young Person in the crew) for taking photos instead of numbering off.<br />
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Quiet reasonably, Hipsy wanted to do some rowing so JV volunteered to cox for a second circuit of this compact little lake. She had to borrow some waterproofs which might have been a bi big for her. She also borrowed Hipsy's red sou'wester which everyone thought was very natty.<br />
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JV made them do exercises and use their glutes properly. It's important to keep standards up.<br />
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That afternoon, Hipsy went off to play with her granddaughter again, and Mandy led the others over a stile and up a hill that went up, up to an osprey vantage point where there were telescopes. They watched an osprey having an argument with a crow, and learned that an osprey's nest is the size of a double bed. Not a very well made one, it has to be said. Later they had tea, but brewed from teabags not camomile, nettles or any of the other weird stuff anthrompomorphised little furry animals make it from in he literature.<br />
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On the last day, they went over the hills and far away to Ullswater, which is a very long lake. It runs kinda south west to north east. The wind was coming from a west-south-west direction, but was only moderate. Well, maybe on the frisky side of moderate. The overall plan was for the 'fleet' of about eight boats to stay together. There was a lot of sense in this, but our fivesome aware that, being quite a lot more experienced (as in, more than 150 years of it between them), and having put in a lot of time refining the art of putting the blades in the water and taking them out again together, never mind rating over 22, their base speed was a little faster than that of some of the other boats, some of which were quite inexperienced, and 'staying together' would require a disappointing amount of stopping.<br />
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Politely prompted, the safety advisor proposed a suggestion; if they promised that they were experienced enough at rowing in such conditions and took responsibility for going off on their own they could. Used as they are to rowing on Damflask Reservoir in Sheffield (where the prevailing conditions are best described as 'hostile'), and bad days on the Tideway and far down the Thames estuary at Rochester (never mind the coastal experience that two of them had), they felt justified in promising this, and so off they went, everyone wearing matching UK Gold all in ones that were totally covered up by waterproofs and lifejackets, and very much obliged to the safety adviser's suggestion.<br />
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The scenery was a stunning mix of Cumbrian slate buildings (plus the odd modern example of boathouse porn) near the shore, against a backdrop of round-topped fells and even higher ridges behind them. This is what they'd come for.<br />
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After about 5km, they reached the narrowest part of the lake, where promontaries on either side make a sort of waist. They stopped and discussed whether, given the wind direction, they'd be better off crossing over to the other side of the lake. They agreed that they would be, but once they got there, the wind blew up a lot more, and after another 1km or so, decided that the waves were showing an unhealthy interest in the riggers, and they ought to turn round. This was fine for a bit as they hugged the shoreline heading back up the lake, but the shape of the bank meant that they had to spend about 150m parallel with the waves, which was a touch challenging. The rest of the trip to the head of the lake was idyllic, though, rowing with 360 degrees of hills round the boat, and passing more great vernacular architecture, fleets of moored yachts, and the two sightseeing steamers that plough up and down the lake (both painted a questionable shade of light greeny blue, you know the one).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake steamer on the starboard bow.</td></tr>
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On returning to their starting point at Ullswater Sailing Club, Hipsy took the ruder strings again so that Coxy could have a row, and they headed back down the southern shore to meet the rest of the fleet who by now were coming towards them, passing some quite fast-moving sailing boats (and a windsurfer with a foil <span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">–</span> which shows quite how fast it was moving). They politely rowed past the other crews and turned behind them with the idea that the might only overtake the leading one just as they got back to the club. With a screaming tailwind behind them, though, they passed all of them within a few minutes. Being in time and rating 22 does have a lot going for it, it seems. As a result they got back to the sailing club well before the others and obviously turned into the wind to land on the pebbly shore. Having hoiked their boat out onto the grass, they were alarmed to see several of the other crews attempting to land with the wind, but realised that this was an understandable 'mistake' for folk who have only ever rowed on sheltered canals or rivers and learned which way to land at their club's landing stage by rote rather than understanding why. Rachel explained, while also pulling them in. There really is no substitute for the combination of experience and knowledge.<br />
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Later in the clubhouse they were served cups of tea by nice ladies in pinnies, one of whom turned out to have rowed with Mandy years before. Rowers get everywhere.<br />
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They also got chatting to another lady who kept her sculling boat at the club and told hem that conditions had only allowed her to take it out four times that year, whereas the scullers at the rowing club on Windermere had got out every weekend since Easter.<br />
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So what was the verdict on rowing in the Lake District? In short, it's fabulous, but if you want to be sure to be able to do it, maybe try the southern lakes. And even then, have a Plan B. Up to you whether it involves pencils, though.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkOp6Bl34emXY4bQTwAtzciT_R5Ml0PnY0R2qR3xnnlw4uE3RaLk2RIpVxrWPhamN9pOeH5meUmz49h0qcITf1EU61E-N8eoo9kCQmvuZciZgnlJyNml4AHx1DuFVetn8uBolaW9OwCUw/s1600/RIMG0288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkOp6Bl34emXY4bQTwAtzciT_R5Ml0PnY0R2qR3xnnlw4uE3RaLk2RIpVxrWPhamN9pOeH5meUmz49h0qcITf1EU61E-N8eoo9kCQmvuZciZgnlJyNml4AHx1DuFVetn8uBolaW9OwCUw/s640/RIMG0288.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Five go rowing in the Lake District: Hipsy, Rachel, Coxy, JV and Mandy at Ullswater at the start of Day 3.</td></tr>
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<br />Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com1Cumbria, UK54.5772323 -2.797483499999998553.4001928 -5.3792704999999987 55.7542718 -0.21569649999999863tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-80409600619323141282019-08-01T10:45:00.000+01:002019-09-03T13:14:17.327+01:00Oh I do like to row beside the seaside<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9jg9-4ti855Pfk0-2rHjYND3vpjXvz42-1y3m-EWPLzHrVWGNYmBRHybKArj1fnkC2J4k83G31r56Yy5x86n5Xo2oKaLWKcHNUc5oHj_z6hiq6paVc4VbepIuKGHzjB7PTVhTMbUWGyY/s1600/RIMG0169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9jg9-4ti855Pfk0-2rHjYND3vpjXvz42-1y3m-EWPLzHrVWGNYmBRHybKArj1fnkC2J4k83G31r56Yy5x86n5Xo2oKaLWKcHNUc5oHj_z6hiq6paVc4VbepIuKGHzjB7PTVhTMbUWGyY/s200/RIMG0169.JPG" width="200" /></a>Rowing tourism is definitely a thing. Exploring new and gorgeous scenery while doing the sport you love is a a win-win wherever you are, but if it's at the coast, there's also all the fun of trying a slightly different type of rowing AND soaking up that beach vibe.<br />
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And so it was decided (note the careful use of the third person there to disguise the disproportionate say I had in the matter) that my husband and I would have our summer holiday this year in Dorset so we could go rowing at the <a href="http://www.coastalrowing.co.uk/" target="_blank">Coastal Rowing Centre</a> which offers pay-as-you-row sessions starting at Studland Beach.<br />
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Whilst we loved it, coastal rowing may (just conceivably) not be for you, so I've drawn up this handy flow chart to help you decide:<br />
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Still reading? Well, you must have reached the "Go coastal rowing!" outcome, so the remainder of this blog will explain about the boats, handling the waves, and what else is different for flat water rowers going coastal, along with a few of what what I appreciate are my holiday snaps.<br />
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<h3>
<b>About the boats</b></h3>
We used 'FISA-type', offshore (which means onshore if you're a sailor, as opposed to traditional coastal rowing boats which are more designed for estuaries) coastal single sculls made by <a href="https://www.liteboat.com/" target="_blank">Liteboat</a>, which cleverly solve one of the main challenges of rowing in rough water - that the boat fills up if a wave breaks into it - by not really being enclosed. Although there's enough of a footwell to keep your water bottle from being washed away, the amount of sea water this contains has no impact on the height that these wide, flat-bottomed boats sit in the water.<br />
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The vertical bows serve both to cut through the waves and keep the boat going straight enough that it doesn't need a fin (so there's no angst about knocking this off when you launch or land, or row in shallow water strewn with submerged rocks), which also makes them very manoeuverable; it's practically worth going round twice when you spin just for the roundabout-like ride!<br />
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The flat shape of the rest of the hull means that they are incredibly stable; altogether, it's a clever design!<br />
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Like many non-fine rowing boats, they have ergo feet in them, and the mistake I made was to wear wetsuit shoes; although these were ideal for the 'wet launch' from the beach, the flat bar at the back of the feet quickly rubbed the skin off my heels through the soft fabric, which was a type of rowing blister I certainly hadn't experienced before. <b>Tip: wear old trainers!</b><br />
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<h3>
<b>Handling the waves</b></h3>
Naturally, we were looking forward to exciting conditions and to learning how to launch and land through the surf and to row and turn in waves. But what we got on the day was a mirror-flat calm, so I can't tell you anything about how to do any of these things from personal experience, although Bob's advice is to <b>keep your upper body and arms loose so you can feel the conditions </b>and react to whatever the water is doing on any particular stroke.<br />
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<h3>
<b>Keeping on course</b></h3>
It was easy enough to plan a basic route - in consultation with Bob, we decided to head north along Studland Beach and into Poole Harbour where went round Green Island and Furzey Island (which score much higher on the picturesque scale than they do for imaginative naming being, obviously, green, and covered in furze bushes), two very small islands just south west of the larger and much better known Brownsea Island, famous for its red squirrels and being the birthplace of the Scouting movement (on the rest of our holiday we kept coming across Scout troops hiking towards it on quasi-pilgrimages).<br />
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We finished off by going out to Old Harry Rocks on the headland (a wonderful photo opportunity) before returning to Knoll Beach.<br />
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All of that looks very easy on the map, but it's really quite tricky to take the stick to the right route in natural expanse of water, islands, promontaries, moored boats and buoys that makes up Poole Harbour. Once we were out on the main coast, it going the right way was a lot easier, so long as you note and use landmarks, and conveniently, the Sandbanks Ferry that runs across the entrance to the harbour had broken down so that was one fewer thing to avoid.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo © Bob Cottell.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<h3>
Coastal rowing: The verdict </h3>
Coastal rowing is growing fast. As the slightly edgy cousin of fine boat racing, rather like snowboarding is to classic downhill, there's even talk that it might replace the current rowing format in the Olympics as many more nations have access to beaches than to the type of lakes and rivers that fine boats train on, plus it's a lot cheaper for a host nation to lay on coastal racing than to build a multi-lane course, and with the unpredictability of the waves thrown in, it's got spectator appeal, especially with the younger audiences the International Olympic Committee is keen to attract.<br />
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But zeitgeist or not, it's well worth doing for its own sake so start planning your trip now!<br />
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I'll definitely be going again, but next time, bizarrely, I'll be hoping for a slightly WORSE weather forecast.<br />
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Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com0Knoll Beach Studland, United Kingdom50.670373299999987 -1.942051499999934150.630112799999985 -2.0227324999999343 50.710633799999989 -1.8613704999999341tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-27060278132827925792019-05-05T17:26:00.002+01:002021-05-19T09:23:52.299+01:00From Lechlade to Teddington in 76 bridges<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Skiffing from Lechlade to Teddington (the navigable, non-tidal bit of the Thames) is known in the jargon as a "Meander". If this conjours up images of gentle paddling through idyllic countryside on a warm summer's day, probably accompanied by a wicker picnic hamper with your cox idly trailing her fingers in the water, you'd be right about the idyllic countryside.<br />
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For this, my fourth full Meander, someone somewhere (OK, let's name names, it's all Richard K's fault) decided that instead of the usual, moderately challenging four-day schedule, we'd do it in three days. To compound the reduction in pleasure, we forgot to sacrifice any goats* to the weather gods, and despite it being the early May bank holiday weekend, it was flipping freezing and there was a screaming headwind for the whole of the first day.<br />
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* <i>This is a figure of speech: we do not in any way advocate the killing of ruminants for meteorological manipulation purposes.</i><br />
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Since a tale of what it was really like therefore wouldn't be in any way uplifting, and anyway regular visitors to this blog have <a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.com/search/label/Skiffing" target="">read it all</a> before, this time our trip is described through pictures, kindly taken by our coxes, in a bridge-by-bridge account. Most of the photos were taken approaching the bridge: occasionally we forgot and they're looking back.<br />
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As an aside, while it took us 3 days to 'do' all these bridges, an artist called Doug Myers spent 10 YEARS <a href="http://www.dougmyers.co.uk/" target="_blank">painting them all</a>. I first bought prints of some of his paintings around 15 years ago when I was living in York and rather missed the Thames, and I think they're a wonderful collection. His website also proved a handy reference source for this blog.<br />
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But first, let's set the scene.<br />
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<h2>
Who?</h2>
<b>Bow</b>: Me<br />
<b>Stroke</b>: Kane<br />
<b>Cox</b>: Liz (owner of the excellent camera) or Alex (Liz's daughter and Kane's partner)<br />
<b>Duck-spotter (part-time)</b>: Oscar (Kane and Alex's son, aged 15 months)<br />
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I did my first Meander with Kane and Alex when he rowed the whole thing, and Alex and I swapped between stroking and coxing. He later commented that we just chattered for four days, to which we enquired what his point was. Alex (aka my Tiny Skiffing Partner) and I then skiffed the whole way together for our second Meander (briefly accompanied by their dog) while Kane cycled. They are, without doubt, my best Meander Mates.<br />
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<h2>
<b>Where?</b></h2>
Day 1: Lechlade to Abingdon (57km)<br />
Day 2: Abingdon to Marlow (80km)<br />
Day 3: Marlow to Teddigton (61km)<br />
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The tour party (sounds fun, doesn't it?) from my club, <a href="https://tvsc.co.uk/" target="_blank">Thames Valley Skiff Club</a>, also included two other doubles (whose crews took turns coxing), three singles (one of which decided that Day 1 was enough) and an amazing Land Team who chased frantically around the countryside to open and close locks, provide LOTS of food and be the best cheer leaders a meanderer could hope for.<br />
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<h2>
<b>How?</b></h2>
One stroke at a time.<br />
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<h2>
Why?</h2>
Don't ask silly questions.<br />
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<h2>
1. Ha'penny Bridge</h2>
You can't get far upstream of Ha'penny Bridge, so called because that was the fare on the ferry which was the only means of crossing the river in Lechlade before it was built in 1792, in a boat with a motor or oars, and so it marks the start of the navigable-non-tidal Thames.<br />
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We set off quite early: there was a long way to go.<br />
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<h2>
2. St John's Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 1/44<br />
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St John's Bridge is immediately after the first of the 44 locks we'd be passing through. Locks are generally too narrow to row in and out of with blades sticking out the sides of the boat, so we 'dongle' or stand up and use the blades as paddles. The photo below shows me dongoling out of the lock while Kane remains sitting down. Just saying.<br />
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<h2>
3. Bloomer's Hole Footbridge</h2>
Locks transited: Still 1/44<br />
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Built in the year 2000, our favourite fact about this bridge is that it was lowered into place by a Chinook helicopter. It may be named after Reverend Bloomer, a local rector who was caught bathing there in the nude (we're not sure when).<br />
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The Thames is insanely wiggly in these parts.<br />
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<h2>
4. Eaton Footbridge</h2>
Locks transited: 2/44<br />
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An inevitable feature of bridges being photographed by an active cox is that the crew, and particularly stroke, will generally appear in the foreground of most shots. This is demonstrated in the picture below which turns out to be unusual, however, as Kane is looking perfectly sensible.<br />
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<h2>
5. Radcot (New) Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 3/44<br />
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Somewhere round here we saw some camper vans parked in a field, which sparked a conversation in which I used the phrase "transit van". My pronunciation provoked much hilarity on Kane's part, and the rest of the trip was consequently peppered with comments about Transylvanian transvestites transiting the Trans-Siberian Railway while listening to transistor radios.You can tell that the miles were just flying past.<br />
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<h2>
6. Old Man's Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 4/44<br />
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Although Old Man's Bridge doesn't give Tourist Guides a lot to work with, the picture below is notable for Kane starting to figure out the opportunities to mess up this serious photographic record of Bridges We Rowed Under.<br />
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It also shows I'd shed my yellow top because it had become fractionally warmer. This didn't last long.<br />
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River still super-wiggly.<br />
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<h2>
7. Tadpole Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 5/44<br />
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In an attempt to take well-composed bridge photos without Kane gurning in them, Liz, who was Duty Cox at this point, enjoyed short-lived success in distracting him before she pressed the shutter with comments like, "Oh, look at those funny sheep over there!"<br />
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<h2>
8. Tenfoot Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 5/44<br />
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Kane had got wise to Liz's distraction tactics.<br />
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<h2>
9. Shifford Lock Cut Footbridge</h2>
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Locks transited: 5/44 (this was a 3-bridge stretch)</div>
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It's like one of those "The many faces of..." things, isn't it?</div>
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"Shifford" derives from the Saxon for "sheep ford". Alex is an archaeologist and keeps us up to speed with these things. The fun of making your sheep walk through the river must have been enormous because Shifford is the last lock to be built on the Thames.<br />
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The wiggles continued. Big time..<br />
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<h2>
10. Newbridge</h2>
Locks transited: 6/44<br />
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Newbridge was first built in 1250, which makes it not very new at all, really, but Kane still came up with a new face for the occasion.<br />
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<h2>
11. Hart's Weir Footbridge</h2>
Locks transited: 6/44<br />
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Alex had taken over coxing by this point (while Liz was redeployed to looking after Oscar) and adopted a new approach to taking gurn-free photos, literally going over Kane's head.<br />
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<h2>
12. Swinford Toll Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 8/44 (there was a bridge-less stretch)<br />
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When a bridge is this pretty, paying 5p to go over it seems only reasonable although the ethics of it being a 'tax haven' for its private owner are debatable.<br />
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<h2>
13. Oxford Bypass Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 10/44<br />
<br />
Oxford Bypass Bridge is not only the ugliest one so far, but also our first encounter with major infrastructure or conurbation. Lengthy stretches of countryside would return tomorrow morning though.<br />
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We'd had another bridge-free reach into that chilly headwind before this, so distracting conversation was essential. This took the form of a wide-ranging discussion about the lack of independence in married women's tax status pre-1990 (yes, that recently) and appropriate divisions of labour in bringing up children in 2019.<br />
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<h2>
14. Godstow Bridge</h2>
<div>
Locks transited: 10/44</div>
<div>
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<div>
Kane become Popeye. No one had packed any spinach so we made do with jelly babies in the lock just after this. These were essential: the fuel tanks were running low and we'd still got 19km to go.</div>
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<h2>
15. Medley Bridge</h2>
<div>
Locks transited: 11/44</div>
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<div>
Does this count as photo-bombing a bridge?</div>
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<br />
Alex also took "a gazillion pictures of cows" (not included here) as we skiffed past Port Meadow. At least partly because they were being more photogenic than Kane.<br />
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<h2>
16. Osney Town Bridge </h2>
<div>
Locks transited: 11/44<br />
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She took several shots of this bridge. This one not featuring us is definitely the best. Trust me on this.<br />
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<h2>
17. Osney Rail Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 12/44<br />
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Having made a smart exit from Osney Lock where there was a narrow boat crewed (and I use the term loosely) by some drunk people who were totally incapable (their inebriation may not even have been a factor), the bridges came thick and fast. This caught Kane out.<br />
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<h2>
18. Osney Footpath Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 12/44<br />
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Normal service was resumed. If it looks like I'm failing to get in to the swing of things while Kane's having a ball, both of our backs hurt like heck by this point, it was over 10 hours since I'd taken some 12-hour Ibuprufen when I'd got up, and we were relying on high doses of 'grin and bear it' by this point. Or maybe that's 'gurn and bear it'?<br />
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<h2>
19. Folly Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 12/44<br />
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Look, I'm smiling again! Well, the sun was shining, and it's always fun to go through your old stamping grounds (I used to live just down the road from here).<br />
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<h2>
20. Donnington Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 12/44<br />
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Alex fired off several shots of us approaching this uninteresting but functional bridge. I selected this one because it shows that Kane actually has a very nice smile when he's not being a pratt.<br />
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Incidentally, don't get me wrong, there's no one I would rather have been skiffing this with (I mean, when faced with a challenge of this nature, a 29-year old man has got a lot going for him), even if he HAD told me earlier in the day that I was the lowest in the chain of command in the crew, I think in the context that he and Liz had got out of the boat for various reasons at the lock and would I please get on with dongoling it in on my own.<br />
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<h2>
21. Isis Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 13/44<br />
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OK, we missed this one, I think because Liz had just swapped back in (so Alex could go and have dinner with Oscar at a nearby Harvester - although he was very well behaved, she admitted that conversationally, a 15-month old is not the most stimulating of dining companions) and had forgotten about photography duties. Isis Bridge is only another boring bypass bridge so you're not missing much.<br />
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<h2>
22. Kennington Rail Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 13/44<br />
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Keen to keep morale up, I encouraged Liz to talk about cake, a subject on which were all keen, but on which she's particularly knowledgeable as the founder of Elizabeth Ann's Confectionary, and creator of all sorts of hilarious birthday cakes (or pretty ones with flowers on if that's what you prefer). It turns out that the most popular type is red velvet, which traditionally has a cream cheese filling (yum), but this doesn't work at all with royal icing on too. I think that was the gist, anyway.<br />
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<h2>
23. Nuneham Rail Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 14/44<br />
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Although almost indistinguishable from the previous bridge, this one was almost an hour further on, quite a long way down the lengthy Radley stretch which was proving taxing on the bottom which is why we'd stopped to stand up.<br />
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<h2>
24. Abingdon Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 15/44<br />
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Liz took this shot after we'd gone through the bridge and it's much more interesting than the ones approaching it as you can see the range of arch options the architect included, as if he had various ones left over from other bridges and just bunged them all in. I expect there's a more logical reason, but have no idea what it would be. Liz's grandparents used to run the tea gardens on the island at the upstream end of it.<br />
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A further 1k or so downstream we stopped for the night, leaving the boats at Abingdon Rowing Club who had written a nice welcome message up for us on their notice board. My old friend Corinna is now a member there and had planned to meet us with a bottle of bubbly to celebrate finishing our first day. Due to me not having checked my phone and therefore not having let her know when we ere passing through Abingdon lock, she just missed us, but left the bubbly in the bows of the boat and it was pressed into service with much joy later.<br />
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<h2>
25. Culham Lock Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 15/44<br />
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When we got back to the boats the next morning there was frost on the blades and mist rising from the river but, thank goodness, the wind had dropped.<br />
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I always tend to think that Culham Lock Cut goes on and on, and it does. When we got to the lock at about 6.45am we encountered various long distance runners. What nutters!<br />
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<h2>
26. Sutton Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 16/44<br />
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Liz must have been standing up to take this picture of the two remaining singles in the party (one realised that enough was enough in Abingdon and his boat was picked up later by trailer). Richard (in blue), whose fault all his was, was still sitting on not much more than a piece of newspaper (Kane and I were on 4" thick upholstery foam which we considered the bare minimum necessary). Meanwhile Keith (in yellow) is a firm believer in talcum powder for avoiding blisters on the hands and, as he'd liberally reapplied this at every lock, his boat was now a very long way from what might be called shipshape and Bristol fashion.<br />
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<h2>
27. Appleford Rail Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 16/44<br />
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This is quite a long stretch but somehow, for once, what with each boat's different speeds, and the amount of faffing exiting the lock (we were distinctly low-faff compared with most of the others), we all finished up in in a bunch at this point.<br />
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Over the three days we found that our speed relative to the others changed quite a lot, but this was mostly because the other doubles were swapping between skiffing and coxing, meaning that some combinations were stronger than others, and also that they got a fresh horse every so often. Meanwhile we just plodded on, which led Kane to observe that we were a "one speed engine". I called him a lawnmower.<br />
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<h2>
28. Clifton Lock Cut Footbridge</h2>
Locks transited: 16/44<br />
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Much like Culham, this lock cut goes on for ever, and much like the bridge over that, this one does up, along and over. Variety this was not.<br />
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However, what WAS starting to be different about Day 2 was the number of herons around. In fact, it turned into a thoroughly herony day.<br />
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Somewhere around here, Liz pointed out two swans who were doing that heart-shaped thing with their heads and necks. "Oh, look," she said, "Swans courting!" Just after we'd rowed past them, and as they were therefore behind her but we could still see them, the cob mounted the pen and we fell about laughing.<br />
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<h2>
29. Clifton Hampden Bridge </h2>
Locks transited: 17/44<br />
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Just before 8am. Gorgeous or what?<br />
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The river is quite shallow here as the river bed is vary hard limestone, which is impossible to dredge.<br />
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<h2>
30. Little Wittenham Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 18/44<br />
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Little Wittenham Bridge is immediately after Day's Lock. It still wasn't even 9am when we went through it, but I was on at least my second snack of the day and that was after porridge for breakfast. <a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.com/2014/05/the-rules-of-expedition-rowing.html">Rule No.1</a> is, after all, eat.<br />
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<h2>
31. Shillingford Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 18/44<br />
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With its stone ballustrade, Shillingford Bridge has a grown-up air and a certain sophistication about it. Which is more than can be said of my skiffing partner...<br />
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<h2>
32. Wallingford Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 19/44<br />
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By now we were on the Wallingford stretch which, at nearly 11km long, is the longest distance between locks. Alex had brought some yoghurt-covered raisins which were spot on.<br />
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Wallingford Bridge has a lot of arches. Most Thames Bridges don't have as many as it does; it has few arch-rivals.<br />
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Just ignore him.<br />
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<h2>
33. Winterbrook Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 19/44<br />
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Frankly, the A4130 is welcome to this.<br />
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We had a Jelly Baby pause shortly after this to build ourselves up for the wonders that were ahead. Actually, this was prompted by seeing an ice cream sign at a boat yard and not allowing Kane to stop and buy one. No time, no time.<br />
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<h2>
34. Moulsford Railway Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 19/44<br />
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As practically everyone I've ever talked to about rowing the Thames knows, this is my FAVOURITE bridge. Designed by Isambard Kingdom Brunel, it has four elliptical skew arches so that it can cross the river at an oblique angle. I mean, swoon! And check out that brickwork. AND the Bath stone quoins! You can tell we're in awe.<br />
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<h2>
35. Goring Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 21/44<br />
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The photo below is noteworthy because it proves Kane did bother to dongle sometimes. By this stage we were well drilled (by me): always dongle with the strokeside blade, and on my command, turn and put the handle under the ledge, dropping the blade through the strokeside tholes in the process whilst also sitting down, pick up the bowside blade, drop it through its tholes, pick up the strokeside handle and go. This efficiency quite often resulted in us then crashing into the more faffy boat ahead, though.<br />
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You can also see some of my essentials, carefully placed in easy reach: water bottle, snack box, cuddly stork.<br />
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<h2>
36. Gatehampton Rail Bridge</h2>
Lock transited: 21/44<br />
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This was another long stretch, enlivened mostly by observing the Chilterns on one side and the Berkshire Downs on the other. This was only of limited help, though, so we also talked about how peacocks' tail feathers regenerate.<br />
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Fortunately, our amazing land team provided tomato soup shortly before the next lock. I hate to think what would have happened if they hadn't; it was a stroke of genius.<br />
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We were joined in the lock by some kids in Trinity boats on a Duke of Edinburgh Expedition who were also heading downstream. We asked them were they were heading for. One of them replied, "Oxford". Let's hope they got that one sorted out before their assessor turned up.<br />
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<h2>
37. Whitchurch Bridge</h2>
Lock transited: 22/44<br />
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In a further act of mercy, the land team had given me a second bottle of Lucozade Sport at lunchtime. I have no idea why I had thought I could survive the day with only one (plus water).<br />
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<h2>
38. Caversham Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 23/44<br />
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Not sure why this one wasn't photographed. Possibly we were distracted by discussing the differenc between llamas, alpacas (there was a field of them above Mapledurham Lock) and vicunas. As you do in Berkshire.<br />
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<h2>
39. Christchurch Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 23/44<br />
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This new footbridge looks awfully like the Dartford Crossing, in miniature obviously, and as it's only a few hundred metres after Caversham Bridge, suffered the same lack of photography.<br />
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<h2>
40. Reading Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 23/44<br />
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Looks like Caversham Bridge - another BOGOF from BridgesRUs?<br />
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<h2>
41. Sonning Bridge</h2>
Locks transited 25/44<br />
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OK, so we missed that one too, almost certainly because we were still traumatised from having had to pass a food festival just upstream of Sonning Lock. There were hot dogs and artisan ice cream and everything!<br />
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Sonning Bridge is very pretty and a photographer was taking arty wedding pictures of a couple on the towpath just below it, which we photobombed. We shouted "Congratulations!" and paddled on by.<br />
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<h2>
42. Shiplake Rail Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 26/44<br />
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My expression indicates that it was 4.45pm and we still had 18km to do. Best have another couple of Jelly Babies.<br />
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<h2>
43. Henley Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 27/44<br />
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The booms were already in on the Henley Royal Regatta course, which seemed awfully early (given it was only the beginning of May).<br />
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This was almost the only stretch of the river where all the cruisers moored on it were in good condition. It's sad how many of the other busy stretches look a mess now because of tatty boats.<br />
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<h2>
44. Upper Hurley Foot Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 28/44<br />
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Kane's face could be expressing what our bottoms felt like by this point. Still, better than having to stand up and paddle, eh?<br />
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<h2>
45. Lower Hurley Foot Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 29/44<br />
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Another 2-for-1 offer, this time with Upper Hurley Foot Bridge.<br />
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<h2>
46. Temple Footbridge</h2>
Locks transited: 29/44<br />
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At the time we passed under it, Temple Footbridge (the longest hardwood bridge in Britain) was closed because in February, "observations were made that needed to be investigated." Woodworm? However, soon after this it was decided that it was fine and it reopened. So it can't have been woodworm.<br />
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Gotta give Kane credit for facial ingenuity. This is another from the Popeye stable, I think.</div>
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Richard's still ahead of us, still using not much more than a pocket handkerchief for seat padding. He was a machine (though did have the decency to be totally wiped out for most of the following week)!</div>
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One more lock and we'd reached our destination for the night (Bisham Abbey).<br />
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<h2>
47. Marlow Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 30/44<br />
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On another beautiful morning, we set off soon after 6am just as the course was being laid for Marlow Spring Regatta and about 15 mins before my husband arrived with a trailer load of boats for him and his coachlings to race in. Ships that pass, if not in the night, just after dawn.<br />
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<h2>
48. Marlow Bypass Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 31/44<br />
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Well, it does what it says on the tin and you can't expect it to have an aesthetic too, so it's a good thing Kane's livening up what would otherwise be a very dull image.<br />
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It might have been somewhere round here (and it was certainly when Liz was coxing because it always is) that we spotted some waterfowl fishing and had the usual snigger about funny terns and good shags.<br />
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<h2>
49. Bourne End Rail Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 31/44<br />
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Quite unusual to see a Dutch Barge in the UK still with a mast.<br />
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<h2>
50. Cookham Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 31/44<br />
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Check out that reflection!<br />
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<h2>
51. Cookham Lock Cut Foot Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 31/44<br />
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With the Popeye options fully explored, Kane moves on to channel Gordon the Gopher.<br />
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<h2>
52. Boulters Lock Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 33 (nearly)/44<br />
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The only Thames lock with a bridge over it. Spectators just can't get enough of it. Still no time to stop and get an ice cream, sadly.<br />
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<h2>
52. Maidenhead Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 33/44<br />
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This is one of several one-eyed faces (a new area, not previously explored) and is actually the least goo one of the set, but it's the best one of the bridge which has fancy street lamps as well as a stone ballustrade.<br />
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<h2>
53. Maidenhead Rail Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 33/44<br />
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Another of Brunel's masterpieces, Maidenhead Rail Bridge has the widest flattest brick-built arches in the world. Wikipedia notes that one of the arches is known as the 'Sounding Arch' because of its "spectacular echo" which is an oxymoron if ever there was one.<br />
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The stretch after this i known as Millionnaires' Row; it's certainly peak giraffe when it comes to garden sculptures.<br />
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<h2>
54. M4 Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 34/44<br />
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Although it has little going for it aesthetically, you've got to feel slightly sorry for this bridge that no one could be bothered to name.<br />
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<h2>
55. Summerleaze Brige</h2>
Locks transited: 34/44<br />
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Somewhere around here, it emerged that the Emu Wars, which Kane had mentioned in passing much earlier in the day, were not in fact a joke, but an actual thing. Google it for yourself. Amazing!<br />
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<h2>
56. Windsor & Eton Bypass Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 35/44<br />
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To be honest, it was impossible for our Land Team to surpass themselves by this point, but they did: they met us in a car park just under the bridge where they were cooking bacon on a camp stove for sandwiches. Love you guys!<br />
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<h2>
57. Windsor Rail Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 35/44<br />
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Still in post-butty euphoria.<br />
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<h2>
58. Windsor Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 35/44<br />
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Soon after the bridge you turn down the cut to Romney Lock, where we were, as always, excited to glimpse the Archimedes Screws turning that power Windsor Castle.<br />
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<h2>
59. Black Potts Rail Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 36/44</div>
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<div>
This is the oldest wrought iron bridge still in use in the world. Who Messers Black and Potts were, I'm unclear.</div>
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<h2>
60. Victoria Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 36/44<br />
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We met various cruisers round here who were not fully engaged with the concept of it being about the journey not the destination.</div>
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<h2>
61. Albert Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 36/44</div>
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<div>
Royal Windsor Horse Show was being set up in the grounds of the castle between the two bridges. We trotted on by.</div>
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<h2>
62. Ham Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 36/44</div>
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<div>
When we reached Romney Lock just after this we were met by the welcome sight of a group from the club who had cycled up to cheer us on, creating their own expedition. </div>
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The Land Team had given me a bunch of grapes at the bacon butty stop, and I decided to have some of these here, unfortunately, the combination of my hands not really working that well after three days rowing and wearing gloves meant I dropped several whilst pulling them off the stalks and they rolled under the burden boards. I was greatly teased for this when we came to clean the boats the following day (when I was accused of turnig our craft ino a fruit bowl), but I still maintain our boat wasn't as much of a mess as Keith's talcum-powdered one.</div>
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<h2>
63. Runnymede Bridge</h2>
<div>
Locks transited: 38/44</div>
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<div>
Runnymede, of course, was where Magna Carta was signed. And where was Magna Carta signed? At the bottom!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysM9RM6Wr4DUYAeNt5F8FcEguP6WMU7CDVKErTmQhdfAGLjb2Kq865mHtsw0pdMFcerLlKdM4qgHhFIux_yFQar3K5gFY6KWpaQPuN1l37OXXEGq5hwSG7mksQfX2C5Ej6HSIoBvw_B8/s1600/P1190766-runnymede.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysM9RM6Wr4DUYAeNt5F8FcEguP6WMU7CDVKErTmQhdfAGLjb2Kq865mHtsw0pdMFcerLlKdM4qgHhFIux_yFQar3K5gFY6KWpaQPuN1l37OXXEGq5hwSG7mksQfX2C5Ej6HSIoBvw_B8/s640/P1190766-runnymede.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysM9RM6Wr4DUYAeNt5F8FcEguP6WMU7CDVKErTmQhdfAGLjb2Kq865mHtsw0pdMFcerLlKdM4qgHhFIux_yFQar3K5gFY6KWpaQPuN1l37OXXEGq5hwSG7mksQfX2C5Ej6HSIoBvw_B8/s1600/P1190766-runnymede.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><br />
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</h2>
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</h2>
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</h2>
<h2>
64. Staines Bridge</h2>
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Locks transited: 36/44</div>
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No stone ballustrades but the lamps have three prongs!</div>
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<h2>
65. Staines Rail Bridge</h2>
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Locks transited: 36/44</div>
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The yellow stripe along the top is allegedly to deter swans from flying into it. </div>
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<h2>
66. M3 Bridge</h2>
</div>
<div>
Locks transited: 39/44</div>
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Another poor, unloved bridge that no one could be bothered to name, like its cousin M4 Bridge. </div>
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<h2>
67. Chertsey Bridge</h2>
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Locks transited: 40/44</div>
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<div>
Both Alex and Oscar joined us in the boat just before this. Initially Oscar was in a stable seat placed in the bottom of the boat between his mother's feet, but after about 5 minutes he indicated his dissatisfaction with this arrangement, quite reasonably, really, because he couldn't see much from down in the bilges. He was then hoiked out and sat on Alex's lap where he made himself useful by pointing out ducks that we never would have noticed otherwise.</div>
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<h2>
68. D'Oyly Carte Island Footbridge</h2>
Locks transited: 41/44</div>
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<div>
The upstream end of our own stretch.</div>
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<h2>
69. Desborough Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 41/44</div>
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<div>
The grammatical rule for when you use "fewer" and when you use "less" were discussed, as in, after the lock there were fewer (countable) Jelly Babies left in the pot and I had less (not countable) Lucozade. That.</div>
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<h2>
70. Lower Desborough Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 41/44</div>
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<div>
We forgot this one but it's just like the previous one so you're not missing much.<br />
<h2>
71. Walton Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 41/44</div>
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<div>
We must have still had our eyes off the ball a bit, so this is a retrospective. </div>
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The colour was apparently chosen to deter swans from flying into it (like the yellow stripe on Staines Rail Bridge - not sure how that works). But three or four years after it was opened, it REALLY needs a wash.</div>
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<div>
Shortly after this we passed our club which is always the worst moment on a Meander!</div>
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<h2>
72. Sunbury Lock Cut Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 41/44</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
By this point it was ten to four in the afternoon and quite chilly, so we got cold in locks and then warmed up a lot skiffing between them. At each lock there were indecisive discussions about whether to take our long sleeves off just as the gates opened ("I don't want to, I'm freezing!") and then overheat on the next stretch unless you stopped and risked being overtaken. I know it wasn't a race, but...</div>
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<h2>
73. Hampton Court Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 43/44</div>
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Another retrospective but skiff rudders are pictureque, n'est-ce que pas?</div>
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<h2>
74. Kingston Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 43/44</div>
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Architecture porn.</div>
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<h2>
75. Kingston Rail Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 43/44</div>
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While we had a brief stand-up to take the weight off our bottoms, a train helpfully demonstrated what Kingston Rail Bridge is for.</div>
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<h2>
76. Teddington Lock Cut Bridge</h2>
Locks transited: 43/44<br />
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Just as we approached our final bridge, immediately before our final lock, we passed Sunbury SPC's Meander group (which included two splitters from our club who had elected to go with the red and greys because they were doing it over four days which sounded more pleasant and because Sunbury trips incorporate drinking at a level we simply can't compete with) coming back upstream. They'd set off a day ahead of us, leaving a message on Facebook saying, "Catch us if you can" and we'd tried very hard to do that, spurred on by reports from lock keepers on Day 3. In the end, we were undone by a couple of unlocky locks late on (that's our story, and we're sticking to it), and we failed to overhaul them by about 15 minutes. Well done guys!<br />
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Land Team Rachel is on the bridge - thanks, mate!<br />
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The end!</h2>
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Our crew (including the stork), celebrating with Corinna's much-appreciated fizz. Happy days! NB Oscar didn't have any fizz but was completely content with just eating a paper cup. </div>
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All photos © Elizabeth Egginton or Alex Egginton.</div>
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Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com1River Thames, United Kingdom51.5631569 -0.6943111000000499250.299922900000006 -3.2760981000000498 52.8263909 1.88747589999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-82528213815718963012018-10-18T13:36:00.000+01:002019-09-29T21:07:59.801+01:00How to do the Tour du Leman<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One of the many reasons why this 160km race round Lake Geneva is totally, utterly my favourite rowing event (and why I keep going back) is that the organisers are so lovely, particularly to British crews who need help with hiring boats and lifts from the airport (unlike the continentals who turn up with trailers and their own cars).<br />
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One good turn deserves another, though, and so over the years I've been the person they refer new English-speaking entries to for advice. I'm happy to help, but to save me retyping the same answers every time, here's my "How to" guide for Brits with no experience of long-distance rowing (unlike the aforementioned continentals, most of whom do several 50k+ rowing marathons a year).<br />
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Tips</h2>
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I'm usually asked for "tips" but in my view, the learned-the-hard-way advice below is much, much more than mere "tips".<br />
<br />
Before you carry on to the TdL-specific points below I would recommend you read:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.com/2014/05/the-rules-of-expedition-rowing.html" target="_blank">The "rules" of expedition rowing</a> - seriously, you need to have these in your head the whole time. I do. </li>
<li><a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.com/2015/10/what-people-really-want-to-know-about.html" target="_blank">Toilet arrangements</a> - just to be clear, a "Shewee" is not appropriate. </li>
<li><a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.com/2014/08/10-top-tips-for-coxing-on-expedition-row.html" target="_blank">10 top tips for coxing a long-distance row</a>.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<h3>
Rowing practicalities</h3>
<div>
<ul>
<li><b>Rate 24.</b> This is the optimum rate for this type of boat. If you try to rate higher than 25-26, you'll wear yourselves out for very little extra speed. If you rate lower, you will be in serious danger of not making the cutoff times.</li>
<li><b>Change the person coxing every 30 mins. </b>I have come across the odd British crew that decided they knew better and tried something else. This rarely led to them even finishing. This means each person rows for 2 hours and has half an hour coxing. Therefore in terms of training, think of it as 6 to 7 rows of two hours each, not a single row of 15-17 hours.</li>
<li><b>Do the swaps on the hour/half hour </b>i.e. the changeover time is within the 30 minute section. This keeps it simple for knowing when the next one is.</li>
<li><b>Decide your swapping pattern in advance and keep it simple. </b>Do not have a pattern so complicated that it has to be written down - it will get wet and you won't be able to see it after dark. There are two basic approaches to this (which you should discuss as a crew and possibly model by moving bits of paper around):<br />1) The person leaving the coxing seat swaps places with the person going into the coxing seat. This makes for the quickest swaps and spreads the task of stroking amongst the whole crew (whether this is desirable depends on your personnel) but it does mean that people finish up rowing in a number of different places in the boat which separates them from their water bottles, small snacks, and kit, and may (depending on the variety of leg lengths within the crew) necessitate moving the stretchers, which takes up time.<br />2) Arranging the crew in leg length order. Start with the longest-legged person at stroke, the next one at 3, and the person with the shortest legs coxing first. The first swap is the cox with bow, then the cox with 2 etc. When the original cox (he or she of the diddy little legs) goes to cox for the second time (having rowed for 2 hours at bow), everyone else in the boat moves back one seat. This means that one person does all the stroking (apart from when they're coxing) BUT has the great advantages that no one is ever more than one seat away from their stuff (reduces faffing, see below), and you shouldn't need to move any feet (again, reduces faffing).</li>
<li><b>Accept that you may row for a while with your feet not in the absolutely ideal position. </b>It's better than faffing and changing them on the swaps (are you getting the idea yet that faffing is to be avoided at all costs?).</li>
<li><b>Bring/wear trainers.</b> Touring boats have ergo feet. Flip-flops are not appropriate.</li>
<li><b>Attach your watch to the laces of one trainer </b>so you can see it when rowing - the psychological benefits of knowing where in the 2 hours piece you are and even - as the day wears on - how the heck long you've been rowing for are not to be sneezed at.</li>
<li><b>Arrive in Geneva on the Thursday afternoon/evening. </b>Yes, I know this means you have to take 2 days off work, but only getting there on the Friday means you won't have time to go out and prep the boat.</li>
<li>At least some members of the crew need to <b>book hold baggage</b>. I'll explain why shortly.</li>
<li><b>Go out in the boat and practise swapping</b>. You will get better at this with a bit of practice. You will then get worse at it during the race as it becomes harder to "get your leg over". Practising will also allow you to check your heights and where to put your feet. Consider practising sitting on the ground first. </li>
<li>Even if it isn't raining, <b>any kit you put in the bottom of the boat WILL get wet</b>. There is always splashing and a bit of wash. If you start in a long-sleeve, put it in your hatch (if you have one) or a dry bag when you take it off or it will be useless if you need it again after dark.</li>
<li>I keep a lipsalve (it's a long day out in the sun and breeze) <b>down one of my socks </b>and a roll of finger tape <b>down the other sock </b>(so it's accessible enough that I can tape up while someone else is swapping with the cox without delaying the restart - See Rule 2, "Look after your hands and bum" because "When it's gone its's gone").</li>
<li>If your back hurts, <b>suck in your stomach muscles</b>/engage your core. It's a hassle, but hassle is better than pain.</li>
<li>I take <b>long-acting (12 hour) Ibuprufen </b>before the race starts, and then again after about 10 hours (note that this is not medical advice and I have no medical or pharmacy qualifications).</li>
</ul>
</div>
<h3>
Preparing your boat</h3>
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<ul>
<li>If you're renting a boat, be very clear that what you're getting is just a boat, not a PREPARED boat. It's your responsibility to bring what you need to prepare it for the conditions you'll meet out on the lake (even on a flat calm, dry day). The wash from motorboats (including water ski tow boats) and the lake steamers can be considerable.</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzjYZ1cvK-8XCH9KcYKZFLAVGR7uc13mcXYDPCIETbRniY5aOacR87wkX9fwIC3h7M_lE5WMaBkY6T4v8AYJnatNrZUz5CB99msQHXbGIaohclMnCULKNpLnXbDs6any4PotOg-cKcPM/s1600/DSC_0574.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzjYZ1cvK-8XCH9KcYKZFLAVGR7uc13mcXYDPCIETbRniY5aOacR87wkX9fwIC3h7M_lE5WMaBkY6T4v8AYJnatNrZUz5CB99msQHXbGIaohclMnCULKNpLnXbDs6any4PotOg-cKcPM/s320/DSC_0574.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li>Many touring boats have open bows and sterns without decking. If you're renting a boat, ask for a picture of it so you can see what you'll be starting with. </li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD46RSD_5w6CeMRWyuR2Yj_0ig-lkmxHM6SOc7xyNUrB-YkwxrhyVRpfCf56-9htSCD7mzl08T1wyga0Vrttd9nrquHPugJkyVdyzz5tUgByrw4LjgpVV8jHL7vT-mLdcSQLkuRYx-kFI/s1600/Genevoise1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD46RSD_5w6CeMRWyuR2Yj_0ig-lkmxHM6SOc7xyNUrB-YkwxrhyVRpfCf56-9htSCD7mzl08T1wyga0Vrttd9nrquHPugJkyVdyzz5tUgByrw4LjgpVV8jHL7vT-mLdcSQLkuRYx-kFI/s320/Genevoise1.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An open boat before preparation.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>The first thing you need to do is tape up your riggers/put stiff enough plastic over them. There are lots of approaches to this. Depending on the design of your boat, it may be possible to put a piece of wood/broom handle across the boat behind the coxing seat so that the tape can be extended beyond stroke's front stay. </li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOi6QynlwdcYY-9cHCbbQ7q3_8Agh3sZiAh29yc9U8qfuhF_vENCeBJdXlxlXf_Olbzqzs6npDbHZMZuMRLFlqZyf18bLAhfM2n8ekVXOnD_QTm2LnH7x_MhLuYY28dWncezDS92nlb3g/s1600/RIMG2131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOi6QynlwdcYY-9cHCbbQ7q3_8Agh3sZiAh29yc9U8qfuhF_vENCeBJdXlxlXf_Olbzqzs6npDbHZMZuMRLFlqZyf18bLAhfM2n8ekVXOnD_QTm2LnH7x_MhLuYY28dWncezDS92nlb3g/s320/RIMG2131.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riggers covered with groundsheet-type material, strengthened with duck tape.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHjQgTKzJGodZ90tWpupKzArTZOe4yHSSqoFXZFPaOJ_VC7lS4QWEKkeY5OgLVUFu9It81M8PNMVuviQJJa-RGrUc-ya58EOCwTFzGsWrBpyEpACafXvi2JG4P_Yh9sPSgVLnvSIQvC0U/s1600/genevoise5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHjQgTKzJGodZ90tWpupKzArTZOe4yHSSqoFXZFPaOJ_VC7lS4QWEKkeY5OgLVUFu9It81M8PNMVuviQJJa-RGrUc-ya58EOCwTFzGsWrBpyEpACafXvi2JG4P_Yh9sPSgVLnvSIQvC0U/s320/genevoise5.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stiff plastic added to riggers. Note buoyancy bags added by crew too.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Or just use a lot of strips of duck tape.</div>
<ul>
<li>The second essential bit of boat prep is to build up the bows. If your boat has a hard canvas and already has a spray deck, you just need to make this a bit higher to parry any wash. If you've got an open boat, you need to make a sort of "hut". This needs bits of wood and you will NOT be supplied with these by the organisers. As the "ridgepole" piece of wood you'll need is longer than you'll get in a suitcase, consider taking two shorter bits and metal joining brackets that you can screw (bring a screwdriver) into them to join together. Like I said, at least some of you need hold luggage.</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWtWZsNIQ9Mu40W0eQ3gqppFLtgrI8JP-pNbt3vlukNXdgCHre_eGWylNRyecaLIaVQbf8IkSzvrMY8-MctOcaLjwfmgMJh-Fsf1ApK_SSvKdIWpFlbnneh6Cvj8RXUSlrOW-YK_FmhA/s1600/RIMG2138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWtWZsNIQ9Mu40W0eQ3gqppFLtgrI8JP-pNbt3vlukNXdgCHre_eGWylNRyecaLIaVQbf8IkSzvrMY8-MctOcaLjwfmgMJh-Fsf1ApK_SSvKdIWpFlbnneh6Cvj8RXUSlrOW-YK_FmhA/s320/RIMG2138.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Open boat built up in the bows.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZHpZ6lZcGyK_l5qIAzFxH157iiljuny1fGaUmy8SU5H24zHdjWQ2jGwd62XjWuMSwId7r3tLHRpWB3iFBPMf-QIzI_nhrdcy8AmilOq2guJC8zniYFiwe1UkvACpsx5HBBNnK6jckW4/s1600/P9283318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZHpZ6lZcGyK_l5qIAzFxH157iiljuny1fGaUmy8SU5H24zHdjWQ2jGwd62XjWuMSwId7r3tLHRpWB3iFBPMf-QIzI_nhrdcy8AmilOq2guJC8zniYFiwe1UkvACpsx5HBBNnK6jckW4/s320/P9283318.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Splash boards built up on a boat with a hard canvas (flowers optional).</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3NFMhdAnDZ4d2iqUfBTM_uxez4g4lZgKNdNohcjB9cOxniXYq_ceHs8CS9VDAa7TFNvrHRu4imbX7korwnM51u86wAEKDb5vUC6VD1ex6UcUOI03qXq3AFFNSZ6iD_XXt0GouFkuqUao/s1600/BC2_8407+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1600" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3NFMhdAnDZ4d2iqUfBTM_uxez4g4lZgKNdNohcjB9cOxniXYq_ceHs8CS9VDAa7TFNvrHRu4imbX7korwnM51u86wAEKDb5vUC6VD1ex6UcUOI03qXq3AFFNSZ6iD_XXt0GouFkuqUao/s320/BC2_8407+-+Copy.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bows on a boat with hard canvases built up with short pieces of wood and thick polythene.</td></tr>
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<div>
<ul>
<li>And finally you need to attach the "mast" that the race organisers will supply which carries the 360-degree light needed for after dark, a radar-reflector and your boat number. Depending on the design of your boat, this can require considerable ingenuity and it still often falls over.</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGfq63XdybLrL4dptKgrKgS45OHXd7T8W9mkuXHqXhbw78FWYXDbvuI_t9PjvDOwuLVFkYvDufKqLBlfLvRmVsEgkCzoJrq3gPvqilmFy31zDAa3Hi6vsJtOAOMIM8Mc93Y61HWRyGViA/s1600/BC2_8750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1600" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGfq63XdybLrL4dptKgrKgS45OHXd7T8W9mkuXHqXhbw78FWYXDbvuI_t9PjvDOwuLVFkYvDufKqLBlfLvRmVsEgkCzoJrq3gPvqilmFy31zDAa3Hi6vsJtOAOMIM8Mc93Y61HWRyGViA/s320/BC2_8750.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mast fail.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>Preparing the boat always takes long than you think it will.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<br />
<h3>
Race day details</h3>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Take a change of clothes and <b>shower stuff </b>to the club on race day so you can shower when you get back.</li>
<li>When you register, you will be given some <b>meal tickets</b>. Make sure you take these to the club with you on race day as you need them to get the soup/pasta meal that you get immediately you finish the race (whatever time of the night that is - the chef must hate this). Quite why there can't be a tick list per crew in the kitchen I don't know, but not having your meal tickets always causes problems (probably because the chef is so frustrated, see above). </li>
<li>Crews are numbered in the order they entered the race (first crew to enter is No.1, and they probably did so immediately after the prize-giving the previous year). There is only one landing stage that takes two boats at a time only. <b>Crews have to boat in reverse number order </b>(i.e. crew no.1 last so they have to hang around on the water for the least amount of time). If you have to boat early, there are a few places where you can then pull in and get out of the boat again - you may use this time to make another visit to the ladies/gents, perhaps.</li>
<li>The club gets its juniors down to <b>help you boat </b>so don't worry that you may not be able to lift it given the contents of a sweet/sandwich shop that you've stored in it. This is the best service ever (and even better when you finish the race).</li>
</ul>
</div>
<h3>
Bunker life</h3>
<div>
You know how the race entry fee says it includes accommodation in dormitories "in the shelters of the civil defence"? What this means is the local <b>nuclear bunker</b>. Whether or not it's still true that there's a bunker bed for every Swiss citizen I don't know, but I'm pretty sure it was back in the 1970s, with the result that there are underground dormitories all over the country, featuring decor of the period (think orange and lime green with round-cornered geometrical patterns), which are used for various community events. The bunker is about 10-15 mins walk from the club up quite a steep hill.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And yes, it's underground. As in, with no windows. The claustrophobic are warned.</div>
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFZrOD538Syx8DS0bhSEC2D-2-XERHkV7NKRRITI4vT4eObsfxjnuyYZYagNf6OVpvMJTK0KW3FUSGZ0353SvyaHIRHzLa8_bUqYh8EwvZJfb9LGw7hU11bWzVjvEn0w6JFBOn2HMb9PQ/s1600/RIMG3921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFZrOD538Syx8DS0bhSEC2D-2-XERHkV7NKRRITI4vT4eObsfxjnuyYZYagNf6OVpvMJTK0KW3FUSGZ0353SvyaHIRHzLa8_bUqYh8EwvZJfb9LGw7hU11bWzVjvEn0w6JFBOn2HMb9PQ/s320/RIMG3921.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beds in the dormitories.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>Bring suitable <b>night attire</b>: continentals have no concept of gender segregation. The bunks are contiguous but at least they are only about 25% full so you may find a German bloke sleeping along from you but at least he'll be three mattresses away.</li>
<li>Some male continentals will wander around in their budgie smugglers first thing in morning. This is where poor eyesight and not putting your contact lenses in can be advantageous.</li>
<li>A standard European electricity <b>adapter </b>won't fit in most of the sockets. Google the issue for up to date info. You need one like this:</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmDOvwIq1hpmlm7auF1ZxiZ9te9uiCnYSaAlCrXACEvMFEuhwe4vNVrOtO5dZMVC-QlOIUkiOXGt4-1KxqyXPOWc-1maxrjLaO2tuHczV2MH0pVYtkHq2sfhu5eg6qE3J7FsC9r5Dy2Ts/s1600/RIMG3942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1123" data-original-width="1600" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmDOvwIq1hpmlm7auF1ZxiZ9te9uiCnYSaAlCrXACEvMFEuhwe4vNVrOtO5dZMVC-QlOIUkiOXGt4-1KxqyXPOWc-1maxrjLaO2tuHczV2MH0pVYtkHq2sfhu5eg6qE3J7FsC9r5Dy2Ts/s320/RIMG3942.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Eating out in Switzerland is expensive, and there are no shops near the club. After several years of paying too much for the wrong food which took too long and required too much of a walk to get to, I strongly advocate <b>taking all your own food </b>(or buying it from the supermarket at the airport but there's no guarantee you'll be able to get what you want). There are basic cooking facilities in the dormitories (a 4-ring cooker, fridge and sink) but take a kettle and saucepan (and plates/mug and a tea towel). We cook fresh pasta, add cold sauce, and have instant porridge for breakfast. See why I keep banging on about needing <b>hold baggage?</b> Buy milk and a bag of salad at the airport. Prepare to be astonished by the variety of food the continentals bring with them - who knew that a cheese board could be on the "What to take" list for a rowing marathon?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQN4GntV7VqvpWlAEqj1sBySAwe4pLL3tFxC0naghLvj8KHBKnfvaBBOxR_CpMBnz1_Qtx3_yq-FNwM4hA5GWjq9B5jRmvhSm2FZEqWhev7QYwMxlHPiLXDx-yF2MbfZk3HgT0iTrurew/s1600/RIMG3922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQN4GntV7VqvpWlAEqj1sBySAwe4pLL3tFxC0naghLvj8KHBKnfvaBBOxR_CpMBnz1_Qtx3_yq-FNwM4hA5GWjq9B5jRmvhSm2FZEqWhev7QYwMxlHPiLXDx-yF2MbfZk3HgT0iTrurew/s320/RIMG3922.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kitchen.</td></tr>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmvMuf_t0icrZefAUOoDT7pKqL782AQlf5UNBmZUyKcbNCSGqngdDnQZoFD_darufhx1ORjFIeCmk0weOOwnNKAFHauZ3YucTvAdFgu_nSKUFcdtkESOMdd8Rx1oo3aYlS_vy0wWmvOA8/s1600/RIMG3918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmvMuf_t0icrZefAUOoDT7pKqL782AQlf5UNBmZUyKcbNCSGqngdDnQZoFD_darufhx1ORjFIeCmk0weOOwnNKAFHauZ3YucTvAdFgu_nSKUFcdtkESOMdd8Rx1oo3aYlS_vy0wWmvOA8/s320/RIMG3918.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wash basins.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb26mheFQCVHeUtmAYK0fUyS8RqWLhlTTBNdrns346XJ2FTBLAEhsL-DfnXHEYUe0hCc8sWdgfrMeBD8DoN_Ub7gIXISEYHxzSqKNWxvCUP2KWCcMEA3YfDT-bedq6vQfnqKqm4ngWb68/s1600/RIMG3919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb26mheFQCVHeUtmAYK0fUyS8RqWLhlTTBNdrns346XJ2FTBLAEhsL-DfnXHEYUe0hCc8sWdgfrMeBD8DoN_Ub7gIXISEYHxzSqKNWxvCUP2KWCcMEA3YfDT-bedq6vQfnqKqm4ngWb68/s320/RIMG3919.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Eating area. The Germans tend to lay the table. Even for breakfast at 5.30am on race day. #NationalStereotypes </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>There's a <b>bakery </b>right outside the dormitory but it doesn't open early enough on Saturday mornings to be of any use then.</li>
<li>There are <b>pillows (with pillowcase) and blankets </b>but you might want to bring a sheet sleeping bag liner.</li>
</ul>
<h3>
General</h3>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Tell the organisers in advance if any of your crew is a <b>vegetarian </b>and if this DOESN'T include eating fish (or they'll assume it does).</li>
<li>The Swiss <b>kiss three times </b>- left cheek, right cheek, left cheek again. Two men greeting each other don't, though.</li>
<li><b>Don't do it sweep </b>(and certainly not the first time unless you're men, and have serious experience of long-distance sweep rowing, and the sides work out).</li>
<li><b>Do your research </b>by reading all of the documents on the <a href="http://www.nautique.ch/fr-ch/aviron" target="_blank">race website</a>.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<div>
<br />
<h2>
FAQs</h2>
</div>
<h3>
What training do you do on the water/ergo? </h3>
<div>
I usually do 3x6k on the ergo (with a couple of minutes rest in between each), and also just reasonably long outings on the water. The trick is to do rate 24 and not pull TOO hard. If you rate much lower than that in a touring boat it’s just heavy, if you rate higher you wear yourselves out and the boat doesn’t go much faster.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If you haven’t done the Boston Marathon already, do so (unless it's the week before the TdL in which case don't because there isn't enough time to recover). I would also recommend that you and your crew find a touring boat to rent (if your club doesn’t have one) and try to do at least a 2.5 hour row. You'll probably finish that thinking "How on earth am I going to manage to do that another 5 times?" There are several answers to that: <br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">1) Even subconsciously, you always pace yourself for whatever you're doing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">2) Provided you stick to <span style="font-family: "times new roman";">the </span><a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.com/2014/05/the-rules-of-expedition-rowing.html" target="_blank">Rules of Expedition Rowing</a> (Rule 1: "Eat"), it doesn't actually get any worse after the first five hours until about the last five hours.<br />
3) That's because you didn't eat while other people were swapping with the cox.</span>
</div>
<h3>
<br />What did you wear?</h3>
<div>
Shorts are preferable to an all-in one, especially if you're a woman because they're much easier to pull up again when they're damp and sweaty after you've answered a call of nature (see below).</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Check that your sports bra doesn't rub after a long outing: it's definitely a thing that one which is fine for a normal training session will bite after about 2 hours. If in doubt, go soft. Beware decorative stitching. Ditto any shorts or leggings with grippy rubber bottoms.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Consider waterproof socks if the forecast is inclement.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There is neither a need nor an observed practice that everyone in the crew matches.</div>
<h3>
<br />How long did it take you? </h3>
<div>
My best time was 14.29. This was on my sixth Tour (and in a women's crew). My slowest was 16.25 in a mixed crew, on my first tour. Experience really counts. (On the first one we rated too low for too long, faffed, and took too much water with us, but we really just weren't used enough to long-distance rowing, despite three of us having done the Boston Marathon.)<br />
<br />
For several years recently there has been a women's crew which has taken over 19 hours (who didn't make the cutoff points but were allowed to continue anyway). I would hate to be out there that long.</div>
<h3>
<br />How often did you swap over?</h3>
<div>
Like I said, every 30 minutes. And no, it's not a good idea to take a small cox and stop every 3 hours for a 15 minute break. </div>
<h3>
<br />Which pump would you recommend for us to purchase in the UK?</h3>
<div>
The list of "materiel" you are required to have with you (and this is scrutineered just before you boat) specifies "a bailer and/or a pump". The <a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.com/2008/09/tour-du-leman-2008-one-that-got-away.html" target="_blank">year we sank</a>, when only 5 crews finished from the 23 crews which started, we had a hand pump which proved inadequate, but I don't think the organisers would let the race run in those kinds of conditions again, so I'm not convinced that an electric pump is really necessary. The Germans often bring neat little ones they've made ("vorsprung durch technik" and all that) which are powered by motorbike starter batteries, but you can't get those on planes (not even in hold baggage). I stick to bailers - plastic milk cartons with the bottom cut off and one per seat.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
However, if you want a pump, <a href="https://www.ebay.co.uk/p/Eco-flo-Products-Bsup-Battery-Operated-Submersible-Utility-Pump-1-55-HP-138-GPH/1637054455?iid=201635439061&_trksid=p2047675.m4096.l9055" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">this</a> is the only one I have found that is powered by ordinary batteries.</div>
<h3>
<br />How much food were you able to buy locally and what options did you find? </h3>
Like I said, I don't recommend this. The organisers usually give you some bottles of Powerade, but it’s not enough for the whole race. Take empty bottles and powders.<br />
<h3>
<br />How much food did you take from the UK? </h3>
All of it. See above.<br />
<h3>
<br />How much/what sort of food do you take on the water?</h3>
<div>
Enough to eat in each coxing stint, plus the odd bite while someone else is swapping coxing during your 2 hour stints. Personal choice for what to take, really. I find that if I only eat sugary stuff for 14 hours my stomach starts hurting so I need a mix of sweet and savoury but that may just be me. See the <a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.com/2014/05/the-rules-of-expedition-rowing.html" target="_blank">Rules of Expedition Rowing</a> for more on this (Rule 1). Take a large lunch box for everyone's food for the coxing seat - this stops it getting trodden on while swapping.</div>
<h3>
<br />I've read your blogs. Would you still recommend a stroke rate of 24? </h3>
Yes. Though I'm slightly worried that you're asking - it feels like you don't like this answer and want a 'better' one that will work just as well. If you aren't good enough at rowing or fit enough to rate 24, your chances of making the cutoff times are fairly slim.<br />
<h3>
<br />As we are new to endurance, what would be the longest row you would suggest prior to the event? </h3>
Doing the Boston Marathon is a good start but a bit like the broken biscuit at the top of the packet been necessary to stop the rest of the biscuits breaking, you'll only really get the hang of it once you've done it. Sorry! See above for advice that you do a MINIMUM 2.5 hour row, swapping.<br />
<h3>
<br />Can you recommend any rowing gloves that do actually minimise blisters? </h3>
Actually the best way to minimise blisters is to row square blades (as a crew) if your technique is good enough and the water's flat enough. But gloves are essential, and it's also important to practice (on a long row) in them to find out how they work for you. It's quite personal. I use kangaroo leather (thin but strong) gloves from <a href="http://www.kakadugolfglove.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Kakadu</a> but the exchange rate against the Australian dollar has made these increasingly expensive and when I bought my most recent pair I was then slapped with a £15 customs fee that I'd not had to pay before, so they're no longer cost-effective.<br />
<br />
I use tape too. See the <a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.com/2014/05/the-rules-of-expedition-rowing.html" target="_blank">Rules of Expedition Rowing</a> for more on this (Rule 2).<br />
<div>
<h3>
<br />Do you have any tips on the crew changing over for coxing?</h3>
</div>
Practice.<br />
<h3>
<br />Do all boats need the plastic covering with wooden supports? Do we need to take the wood and plastic with us?</h3>
Yes. See above.<br />
<h3>
<br />So just to confirm, you will be taking pieces of wood
in your luggage and there isn’t any at the club in Geneva? </h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Yes.<br />
<h3>
<br />Any top tips with navigation?</h3>
Use a GPS. The co-ordinates are <a href="http://www.nautique.ch/fr-ch/events/2018-09-28-46eme-tour-du-leman-a-l-aviron-et-9eme-course-d-aviron-interentreprise" target="_blank">here</a>. I never know why the Villeneuve one is Approx – and it’s not quite correct. But Villeneuve is a tiny island you go round so it’s really obvious once you get there – have a look on Google Earth and you’ll see what I mean!<br />
<br />
Also, make sure that everyone in the crew understands that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.<br />
<div>
<h3>
<br />Do you get liability insurance through your rowing club or do it personally? </h3>
British Rowing membership gives you cover for events abroad that are affiliated to another national federation.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<h2>
Biggest mistakes I've seen British crews make</h2>
</div>
<div>
This includes, but is not limited to, crews I've been in.</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Thinking because you're a successful 2k rower in your 20s who has trained hard all winter that this'll be a breeze. I'm <55kg, 5'4" and 50. Just saying. </li>
<li>Not bringing trainers.</li>
<li>Rating too low.</li>
<li>Rowing out of time. This is the main way to be slow (as well as rating too low).</li>
<li>Faffing on the swaps.</li>
<li>Not eating enough.</li>
</ul>
</div>
By the way, did you get the bit about the trainers?</div>
Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-53881502110352971552018-09-29T12:23:00.000+01:002018-10-30T15:50:35.149+00:00The Tour du Leman that wasn't<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7eVJoaaNELUqj2ASWQKKJMx77iuC_TjCLO79p4mMeoy9_Pk5HVPbP9MdaNHknz3sqb7jGTei1hHcFicQTJc7wMYpjzCyZNNBJ0BIdr8cPK8Put4SbRBqaZn0vO4bbe31J7heS46RMKZA/s1600/42946595_306012099983846_6268140933242421248_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7eVJoaaNELUqj2ASWQKKJMx77iuC_TjCLO79p4mMeoy9_Pk5HVPbP9MdaNHknz3sqb7jGTei1hHcFicQTJc7wMYpjzCyZNNBJ0BIdr8cPK8Put4SbRBqaZn0vO4bbe31J7heS46RMKZA/s200/42946595_306012099983846_6268140933242421248_o.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Lake Geneva is mostly calm as well as enchantingly beautiful at the end of September when the 160km Tour du Leman a l'Aviron takes place, and I've had some dream sculling experiences there on mirror-flat water surrounded by stunning scenery. However, because it's so big, and surrounded by mountains, it also has its own microclimate, which can turn nasty in quite a short space of time, before turning back again, as if to say, "Storm? Me? No, you're making it up!" Frustratingly, this often seems to happen on a Saturday.<br />
<br />
Over the 13 runnings of the event since I first did it in 2006 and including this year, there have been no fewer than five occasions when the conditions were so awful that either the course had to be shortened or most of the crews sank (like us) or pulled out before they did so. Despite this unpromising statistic, the lure of the Lac pulls most of us back again and again to take on this relentlessly hard challenge, in the most gorgeous of surroundings.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
This year, the eighth time I'd entered, the organisers were faced with every event's worst nightmare: by a few days beforehand, the forecast was windy as heck, particularly for the Geneva end of the lake. Apparently conditions would be reasonable up the other end, but the problem was we couldn't row there.<br />
<br />
On the plus side, at least the decision wasn't even marginal (60cm high waves and rowing boats are not a good mix and because the trouble was all being caused by "la bise" a wind from the North East, it was going to be worst at the Gemeva end of the lake) and the 100 rowers from all the marathon-rowing countries of Europe (plus the UK) who started assembling at the Societe Nautique de Geneve (SNG) in balmy autumn weather the day before the race all understood that. But they also seriously wanted to go rowing.<br />
<br />
What to do? After months of planning the equipment and people needed to run a race round the lake, including individual cruisers that act as safety boats for each of the 20 crews, and timing teams for the 13 control points (spread round the 160km perimeter of the lake, of course), the organisers abandoned all that and set about (after a totally essential cafe noir, of course) planning a completely new event in a different location to start less than 24 hours later. The safety boat people were reportedly very disappointed at being redundant, but better than being over-employed, eh?<br />
<br />
We left them to it and set off for a 28km sightseeing paddle up the French side of the lake which we usually never see when racing past in the other direction in the dark.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNKyP_V8HapAU85TNeYTsUQLUNDl7FsOo-bn7DtPB_VEHeMbXtE7AJnXzu-5-N40r67mM2QEvbF6LDwfY8hUQV8VukoS5z39Hw2-bGFvNO4n5O3FEgSueR8OzQqYfHjG8Jkk_uAfkxa6A/s1600/RIMG3891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNKyP_V8HapAU85TNeYTsUQLUNDl7FsOo-bn7DtPB_VEHeMbXtE7AJnXzu-5-N40r67mM2QEvbF6LDwfY8hUQV8VukoS5z39Hw2-bGFvNO4n5O3FEgSueR8OzQqYfHjG8Jkk_uAfkxa6A/s320/RIMG3891.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The calm before the storm.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Eii-ZR39tZWjnzME4vW5xqBlOfLPuZSTtEvNoN1n7VHhbKNENB62-KRC867gMY7bLLqFlgNm9GJOKX6ZcbJz-e3MMFv_kG76rOfpCEYEO-Sk0N0YlARdO6eW0uh-WQUoqe6EaDF4MGQ/s1600/RIMG3896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Eii-ZR39tZWjnzME4vW5xqBlOfLPuZSTtEvNoN1n7VHhbKNENB62-KRC867gMY7bLLqFlgNm9GJOKX6ZcbJz-e3MMFv_kG76rOfpCEYEO-Sk0N0YlARdO6eW0uh-WQUoqe6EaDF4MGQ/s320/RIMG3896.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hermance: a charming place to stop for an ice cream (though not when it's 9pm and you're still racing back to Geneva, obvs.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
In the meantime, the organisers had devised a cunning plan. Conveniently, the rowing section of the SNG has a second boathouse on the Rhone, which is is fed by Lac Leman at Geneva, and this would provide a base for the revamped race which would involve four 20km loops up and down the river.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Early next morning we walked down to the club in the dark from the nuclear bunker dormitory accommodation up the hill. Although we could hear the wind, it was only when we reached the road that runs alongside the lake and saw large waves breaking over the esplanade wall, that we realised quite how accurate the weather forecast was. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Compared with the main club, which could reasonably be described as "proper posh" (and where rowing is clearly subsidised poor relation of the sailing and motorboat sections), the corrugated metal boat shed from which SNG's eights and other boats train, had a familiar functionality to it, although challengingly only two toilets.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The organisers had come up with a F1-style grid for the start, which was almost totally ignored by all crews. A video of the haphazard departure can be seen <a href="https://www.facebook.com/tourdulemanaviron/videos/354680025272556/" target="_blank">here</a>. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sheltered from the storm raging on the lake by the river's high, wooded banks, the view from the boat while racing was a bit boring compared to the usual Tour, but on the plus side we quite enjoyed seeing all of the other crews as we passed them going the other way (either ahead of us or behind us), which also allowed us work out what place we were in (13th out of 20 but first of the three women's crews by a very long way), something that isn't usually possible as the boats spread out round the lake, sometimes separated by eight hours from first to last.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There was a little bit of jostling for position over the first loop or so, during which we had the somewhat depressing experience of being overtaken by a boat sporting fluffy St Bernard dog (one of the members of this Swiss crew was called Bernard, and seemed surprisingly attached, for a middle-aged man, to his toy). </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Vwamp2bGdsYzTMQNCZaLdcz_YiHYeLi-2dHdvXJClT8ti7pF2WRyqKC_0qkFHpKrUdjKZx6Kgp0r-hr_s5xVgb4row0dyI213A5tXv1z4b-2xgjEI2SGlrwqpgDF2TUts6FaTJ37TMQ/s1600/RIMG3932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Vwamp2bGdsYzTMQNCZaLdcz_YiHYeLi-2dHdvXJClT8ti7pF2WRyqKC_0qkFHpKrUdjKZx6Kgp0r-hr_s5xVgb4row0dyI213A5tXv1z4b-2xgjEI2SGlrwqpgDF2TUts6FaTJ37TMQ/s320/RIMG3932.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Other features which kept us entertained were a detergent factory or a commercial laundry that had a lovely soapy smell, although we never saw it because it was behind trees; and an abandoned factory that had become a hippy commune with a banner outside it announcing, "We're building a world without prison." Nope, no idea. Even more bafflingly, a floating platform was moored outside it that featured two home-made water wheels, and a piano. Really no idea about that.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLvo9eYuUdQn2qW0JIusxslDlamuPAKLHjpTsWLlvP33gt3oA7gwMn4T-1gvuTaWjI87Pdf7Mo1x-VFuGtZm0UW7Aetp9VBeWpyt0-dwdul7Gc91VUucYDw_L8leK_Rfiu7eTs6eDNCc/s1600/RIMG3913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLvo9eYuUdQn2qW0JIusxslDlamuPAKLHjpTsWLlvP33gt3oA7gwMn4T-1gvuTaWjI87Pdf7Mo1x-VFuGtZm0UW7Aetp9VBeWpyt0-dwdul7Gc91VUucYDw_L8leK_Rfiu7eTs6eDNCc/s400/RIMG3913.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unexpected.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
Despite the jolly cheers of the teams at the timing points, the novelty had really worn off by the third loop, though. Afterwards, one of the organisers commented that the local swans had been pretty surprised to find their usually tranquil existence disturbed by so many rowing boats. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Let's hope we don't need to bother them again.</div>
<div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More "Rowers of the Rhone" than our team name, "Ladies of the Lac".</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still (mostly) having fun quite late on in the race.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a breath of wind at the prize giving the following day, of course.</td></tr>
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Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com0Geneva, Switzerland46.2043907 6.143157699999960646.1164762 5.9817961999999607 46.292305199999994 6.3045191999999606tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-77426531912729983802018-06-02T17:10:00.000+01:002018-10-18T17:43:39.836+01:00Cheese and chocolate and rowing - oh my!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The Netherlands - basically Xanadu for expedition rowers with its circular routes, respect for this form of rowing, and friendliness to eccentric Brits - produces a rowing marathon calendar every year (I mean, just brilliant or what?) and I'm working my way through it, ticking off one event a year.<br />
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2018's little taste of paradise was the 70km <a href="https://nhtocht.arzv.nl/index.php" target="_blank">Nord Holland Tocht</a> which, let's be quite clear, is a challenge ("tocht") in the region of North Holland which is part of the country that patiently wishes the English-speaking world would call it the Netherlands.<br />
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<a name='more'></a><b>Cheese</b><br />
The event is run by AZRV, a club in the town of Alkmaar, which I am ashamed to say I hadn't previously realised is the cheese capital of the Netherlands.Wikipedia describe it as "a popular cultural destination", though I don't think this is meant to be a rennet-related pun. There's a mock, traditional cheese market every Friday.<br />
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There was definitely clear role demarcation between white-clad cheese-sleigh carrying men (then sub-divided by hat/hat ribbon colour - red, blue, yellow or green: Google weren't the first to choose that palette, clearly) who run the cheeses to the single, massive weigh scales, blue-shirted men who load cheese onto the sleighs, and brown-shirted men who unloaded the sleighs onto carts. I don't think the polo-shirted men who then unload the cheese from the carts onto refrigerated lorries were traditional, though.<br />
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<b>Rowing</b><br />
The NHT isn't one of the Dutch Marathon season's larger events, which leads to a situation where there are quite often, more categories than there are crews. This is at least partly because of the typically Dutch ethos that you can do whatever boat class you want (coxed double - the most traditional of Dutch marathon boats and what we did, coxed quad, or even the double-coxed (double) wherry); men, women or mixed; integraal" (same people in the boat the whole way) or "estafette" (relay, though that doesn't mean you get a rest when you're not rowing because you'll probably cycle, on a sit-up-and-beg bike, almost certainly with plastic flowers on the handlebars); and "prestatie" (performance/just doing it for the satisfaction of completing it) or "wedstrijd" (competition/racing). All of which adds up to 36 different categories. There were 14 entries. Actually there were 17, but to add further to the permutations, these started at a different place (their club, fair enough) on the circular route but for some reason went round in the opposite direction and weren't included on the results, although two of them thoroughly got in our way at a very narrow bridge (typical - you've got 70km, and three of us all finished up in the same place at the same time).<br />
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Incidentally, respect to the crew which competed in a "wherry" because one of them was blind, and so either stroked or enjoyed the ride when it was his pair's turn to cox. Now that really is inclusivity.<br />
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Chocolate (and also windmills and a funny smell)</b><br />
Despite being scheduled to set off last, it was still pretty misty for the first few hours. This may not have been a bad thing as, once we'd passed some charming, restored windmills near the start (windmills are a required feature when it comes to choosing which event to do next), the landscape was somewhat industrial as we progressed along the North Holland Canal. However, at least this meant the steering was literally straightforward which meant that Marcel, the Dutch member of the team, was easily able to eat a pot of fruit salad while coxing (the Dutch really are different).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's no real loss that you can't see the cement factory on bowside.</td></tr>
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In due course we came out onto the river Zaan which is seriously industrial, and wide enough to take proper cross-channel ships. One of the factories we rowed past emitted a funny smell - not particularly unpleasant, but totally unfamiliar - which turned out (there are so many advantages to having a local guide) to be lino. I've had to look up what lino is made of; linseed oil, pine resin and cork dust, mainly. Which was actually what it smelled like, in hindsight. Or is that hindsniff?<br />
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The olfactory aspect of the trip soon hit a peak as we passed the most delicious-smelling chocolate factories, breathing deeply, though agreeing that the slogan on the outside of one of them - "Growing cocoa solutions to serve you" - was exactly the kind of twaddle you get when you pay branding consultants a lot of money, and really thy could have slashed their marketing budget, painted "Ooo, chocolate!" on the side of the building, and done just as well.<br />
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Rounding a corner, the windmill-factor raised the stakes with actual moving ones - short of a field of tulips, and it was too late in the year for that, we really were living the dream:<br />
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Then it was time for another change of scene as we headed sideways off the wide, industrial Zaan and onto quite a narrow canal which eventually brought us to amusingly-named village of Neck where the clock gets stopped (for those of us who care) because there's a cantilever bridge that's too low to row under which has to be lifted to let us through (toll included in race entry fee) and it wouldn't exactly be fair for some crews to be held up while a cart of cheese or something was passing over it.</div>
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This was immediately followed by another typical Dutch marathon rowing feature: a section that was so narrow (owing to houseboats taking up half of the already limited space) that we had to deploy the "pieterburen" technique where you slip the blades on one side, and row with the other side only while the cox steers against you. Suffice it to say that we didn't put up a particularly good demonstration of doing this (sorry, Marcel - Brits, eh?) and a coot which happened to pop up from a dive under our riggers took one look at us flailing about and dived straight back down again.</div>
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The second half of the row was more rural or to put it another way, I can't remember much about it, apart from the last 5k which was into a fairly hefty headwind, and happened to involve Hannah and me rowing with Marcel coxing. He got into the spirit of this by adopting a full 2k racing cox position while we did our best to leg it back to the club. </div>
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I think we were fourth (behind two men's coxed doubles and a relay men's coxed quad), but who really cared? It had been a cracking day, rounded off by an excellent Chinese buffet, the handing out of participation medals, and an enjoyable time chatting to bemused locals (other than Marcel) who were slightly surprised to find Brits there, though not as surprised as we were to spot a new, Empacher, stern-coxed quad in the boat bay. Apparently Dutch clubs don't really row coxless quads, and by having stern-coxed ones, you can fit taller people in so rowers just take turns coxing from outing to outing. Like I said, the Dutch are different. But very pleasantly so.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A decent participation medal always goes down well.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hannah (middle) was trying to make a point here but I'd like to make it clear that we're standing on a SLOPE.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gotta love ARZV's fixed trestles with mounted hose reel for boat washing (obvs only feasible when area in front of your boathouse is within your compound, but all the same.)</td></tr>
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<br />Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com0Alkmaar, Netherlands52.6323813 4.753375399999981752.5552858 4.5920138999999818 52.7094768 4.9147368999999816tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-36343032316575895852017-07-19T16:09:00.000+01:002017-07-31T21:27:34.612+01:00"Visitor rowing" in the Netherlands and the romance of the coxed single<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We all like going on holiday. Fact. And we all love rowing. Fact. So rowing on holiday would be like chocolate chip ice cream in a chocolate-lined cone with a chocolate flake, right?<br />
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Yes, but how can it be done when you're somewhere that you got to by train? It's not like you can hire a sliding seat rowing boat like you can hire bikes in touristy destinations, is it?<br />
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Well, generally, no. But one Dutch rowing club has come up with a neatly-branded service that makes it all possible. Please give a huge cheer for <a href="http://gastroeien.nl/">Gastroeien.nl</a> (trans "visitor rowing")!<br />
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From an infrsatructure point of view, <a href="http://www.tdiep.nl/rv/index.php?option=com_content&view=category&layout=blog&id=27&Itemid=435" target="_blank">RV 't Diep</a> (trans The Deep Rowing Club) in Steenwijk (pronounced "Stain-vike") in the north-east of the Netherlands, just over an hour and a half by train from Schiphol airport, is an ordinary, mid-sized rowing club equipped with a mangle for wringing out boat-wiping towels.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every Dutch rowing club I've been to has a mangle apart from RV De Laak in the Hague, but they explained this was only because theirs had broken and they were in the process of sourcing another.</td></tr>
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But while almost all Dutch clubs have a touring rowing section, and are probably friendly to visiting touring crews, 't Diep has taken it to a new level by actively advertising its touring boats for hire.<br />
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Just the two of us</h2>
Gastroien.nl offers a number of whatever the touring rowing equivalent of workhorses are, in other words "C-class" coxed quads and doubles as well as double wherries (a wider boat with two sculler and two coxes). But I was on holiday with my hubby, and although we had with us our new touring mascot, Ooievar (trans "Stork"), whom we'd won the previous weekend (on that occasion with three friends) at the <a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.co.uk/2017/07/because-who-wouldnt-want-to-win-stork.html">Haegsche Bluf Marathon</a>, his stubby little wings didn't look like they'd be much use for grasping the rudder lines never mind blade handles and so we were one short for a C2x+.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Storks: cute but no good at coxing.</td></tr>
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Given the narrowness of some of the photos we'd seen of the canals in the area, going coxless was not an option; we clearly needed a coxed single, known in the Netherlands as a single wherry.<br />
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Did 't Diep happen to have such a craft, I enquired? It did, came the response (in perfect English, of course). Yay! There was more: this was, in fact, the club's ONLY single wherry and it was 60 years old. There was a distinct hint that this was a highly cherished boat, which made the generosity hiring it out to total strangers that we all the kinder (although I had emphasised our credentials as the kind of total strangers to whom it was safe to lend your club heirloom).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIw6FkyvWqTCBLTDktSkyTHcGqe2l_nuCa-DK3MKMcJonJKvNmWAfX0XeqsGpm5qfTmjOyCjNE2YNbz_z5Oh-RC8yOyxM2qZyUBKCXDRD-VsVoC5YoK0oFWAlob2zIM-slZaoRduiAgUg/s1600/IMG_0326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIw6FkyvWqTCBLTDktSkyTHcGqe2l_nuCa-DK3MKMcJonJKvNmWAfX0XeqsGpm5qfTmjOyCjNE2YNbz_z5Oh-RC8yOyxM2qZyUBKCXDRD-VsVoC5YoK0oFWAlob2zIM-slZaoRduiAgUg/s640/IMG_0326.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The perfect craft for the rowing couple looking for a romantic paddle, and available for hire at a very reasonable daily rate to appropriately experiences oarspersons.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h2>
And so we set off </h2>
Our 35km day out started at the blue marker on the map below when we headed west down a canal that was edged with waterlillies although it was wide enough for these to be a pleasant decoration rather than a hindrance. Funny, isn't it, how floral edging is charming on rivers, but ghastly when it's at the top of every wall of the house you've just bought (as ours was). However, I digress.<br />
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<iframe height="480" src="https://www.google.com/maps/d/embed?mid=16mmWuvSSIWAmthKCNBQIbOkHqPA" width="640"></iframe><br />
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As with most touring boats, the wherry felt like rowing and it didn't seem particularly heavy, we just didn't go very fast. But speed didn't matter as there was a seemingly endless succession of what would have been described twenty years ago as postcard-perfect thatched houses to look at. Nowadays, of course, no one sends postcards and they just post pictures on their blogs instead...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9s9qXw4O3_xwEVINLrWOVk50QPcvq6dd0jvjD093bbqzJHVvk8LZf3N_CBhSiFKQJejrAtBai1F6SNPVZdNj_xCQO6j3gTZYik2YwdKLiiD7Ua8KvOoi4t9z9cFl97XKGk7ylemXHF20/s1600/RIMG3128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9s9qXw4O3_xwEVINLrWOVk50QPcvq6dd0jvjD093bbqzJHVvk8LZf3N_CBhSiFKQJejrAtBai1F6SNPVZdNj_xCQO6j3gTZYik2YwdKLiiD7Ua8KvOoi4t9z9cFl97XKGk7ylemXHF20/s640/RIMG3128.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one scored very highly for its immaculate reed thatch, shutters and traditional tiny loft windows with black and cream frames.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIlvJVLUrZLXN4KXsiC8xMC6Vs6X34Z9QAnea9ELTDXNhSkM-heS9ishQ5oGAGSGJNgzGp9BxT08owiLl-ZSABxdnvvnJ_FjdnRTR5GZqvwiwiRpd2OI3CDjiE0Ziy4YUBWVDcEkG_vNY/s1600/RIMG3125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIlvJVLUrZLXN4KXsiC8xMC6Vs6X34Z9QAnea9ELTDXNhSkM-heS9ishQ5oGAGSGJNgzGp9BxT08owiLl-ZSABxdnvvnJ_FjdnRTR5GZqvwiwiRpd2OI3CDjiE0Ziy4YUBWVDcEkG_vNY/s640/RIMG3125.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one had a fine collection of smartly-painted milking receptacles, old clogs and, for some reason, chamber pots displayed on shelves outside it - apparently for the entertainment of passing boaters. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcvNC0qhmf3kfzuYmfoKX6b_Zt4XDeUZOzlLwth-uSvwSsonCBFGoVE7qAScx7HrGO0GGrlDreBfTNWK0TdVtb5eHi0nGZ-iPOyZ0FiGeUm2nZxf3xWrlfpcfqkMeC0lnU8x-pUXtTHuE/s640/RIMG3124.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quite a few houses also featured this part-tiled, part-thatched style. We have no idea why. (UPDATE: See comment from Anna at teh bottom of this page which explains exactly why this is!]</td></tr>
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Readers who have experience of swapping the cox in a touring boat will know that it is essential that rower/s who aren't swapping need to keep the boat stable while the two swappers clamber about. This presents an obvious challenge in a coxed single but we got better at it as the day went on and Ooievar stopped threatening to fly off to safety as the procedure began.<br />
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<h2>
Map reading</h2>
Unlike in the UK where the navigation element of a tour down the Thames involves sticking to the wet bit, touring rowing in the Netherlands requires the cox to map read.<br />
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We had a bit of a fail at this. Not epic, but I'm wondering if I should hand back my Bronze D of E badge.<br />
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The first hint that all was not well was when the canal took an unexpected 90 degree turn to the left. It would be churlish to complain that the map provided by 't Diep wasn't quite of Ordnance Survey standard, especially as we'd made no effort to try and figure out distances on it. Our plan had been to go right at that point, but we didn't see the right turn option and somehow thought that it was just an extra wiggle that wasn't shown, and we were still heading sort of north-north-west.<br />
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You really should listen to warning bells, shouldn't you?<br />
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Well we didn't, or not until we heard the Big Ben of warning bells which was our arrival in the village of Kallenberg, a charming destination (delightful foot and cycle bridge by a cafe), but not one that we'd been intending to take in.<br />
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We adjourned to a side-canal to get out of the way of various day-boats whilst we figured out whether we were heading north west or south east through it. Yes, I know, this really is embarrassing.<br />
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Having realised that we were heading north-west, we came up with a new plan, and paid more attention from then on.<br />
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<h2>
Narrow bits, open water and firemen!</h2>
Up until this point we'd been rowing along reasonably wide canals - what you might call three-digit B roads. The new route took us into what can best be described as single track roads with passing places. Fortunately, there wasn't much other traffic.<br />
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There were, however a lot of reeds, and not all of them neatly growing behind the wooden planks that edged the canals. There are two key things about reeds. One is that they look like long grass (you know - green and, more to the point, SOFT). The other is that they are tough enough to be used as a material for roof covering. Which means they're not actually soft at all and if you hit some with a blade on the way forward, the blade just stops. Totally.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1R-SBIFQXN2dIvOFtkwkmLLb_JbROzTk2L40mxyWoXbcDKIUsZ-H87i6VwuRBeImbBzVxDHl2lG9FYhow6aiJ6mH6z_C5fErfgPfLstC7rOlbCMZJozfL7Oa1kTjCvTFj8jTuIig3tY/s1600/RIMG3134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1R-SBIFQXN2dIvOFtkwkmLLb_JbROzTk2L40mxyWoXbcDKIUsZ-H87i6VwuRBeImbBzVxDHl2lG9FYhow6aiJ6mH6z_C5fErfgPfLstC7rOlbCMZJozfL7Oa1kTjCvTFj8jTuIig3tY/s640/RIMG3134.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reed-lined banks. And funny little windmills, many of which weren't rotating owing to having their direction vanes at 90 degrees to where we thought the should be.</td></tr>
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After a while we got better at using a mix of "slipping" one or both blades (putting them parallel with the boat) and "feathering high" as skiffers would say (the higher up a reed you go, the more grass-like it is) and stopped grinding to a halt quite so frequently.<br />
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The deserted nature of this part of the trip afforded an opportunity for a couple of forty-somethings to take some picture of their cuddly stork without passing boats having a laugh. Quite why I was being shy about this given that I'm now posting the results on the internet, I don't actually know... he's awfully photogenic, though. As is Richard, of course...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj12cFs5NI-4oax86L6SmzSRr33lTuVHBCKB5HdeVkbtV9wJVOjtRJxGc4ubQOimiggIS0YYw-hg_iuE14xLZspvXnSUyjp7lEgFwBWyXfc0HbnIqduwbfOxhud8nUzNh-MUPQ_wMFm-PQ/s1600/RIMG3137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj12cFs5NI-4oax86L6SmzSRr33lTuVHBCKB5HdeVkbtV9wJVOjtRJxGc4ubQOimiggIS0YYw-hg_iuE14xLZspvXnSUyjp7lEgFwBWyXfc0HbnIqduwbfOxhud8nUzNh-MUPQ_wMFm-PQ/s640/RIMG3137.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Man and Ooievar.</td></tr>
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By this point, the only not-totally-delightful aspect of our wherry was causing whoever was coxing's bottom to hurt a lot, and if Ooievar had been a bit bigger he might well have got used as a cushion. Luckily for him it was time for another swap over, which also suited me as we'd reached the Gieethoornsche Meer (trans Lake Giethoorn), which was covered in white horses, into which we needed to row to cross it. Our wherry handled the conditions brilliantly, as most touring hulls do, and R slogged away into the headwind while I provided a running commentary on the attractiveness (high) of approaching sailing barges and refuelled on marzipan pastries. It's important to make one's Dutch rowing tour as authentic as possible, you know. Shame R hates marzipan.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRx8WtMn7g9LwWESkEWV8nCuTWcwmAAZzXJ-zoi6ObN_Zqm2DQdIbXOuPQgJRltQ-bhzewengwG2WANmrInBUkhBcLl-bB8CbrqyFdSmtxK8h6c1r48Div3ctSBfe8GDabXWYom-d9ELw/s1600/RIMG3142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRx8WtMn7g9LwWESkEWV8nCuTWcwmAAZzXJ-zoi6ObN_Zqm2DQdIbXOuPQgJRltQ-bhzewengwG2WANmrInBUkhBcLl-bB8CbrqyFdSmtxK8h6c1r48Div3ctSBfe8GDabXWYom-d9ELw/s640/RIMG3142.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mini-sailing barge.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cfHq2KRUcZgg8c9QvwuRKL800Vrxhv_2LcKtf9vxcqzrbt429gGJkGV6z7T-9ReF2_WG9bFWY9OG-3oq1dsJCuomqLm8Qv7ZRtoyU3EJRiA5Y43OOc4d3Pz0qxlK9-_pDLs65fkeUbU/s1600/RIMG3147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cfHq2KRUcZgg8c9QvwuRKL800Vrxhv_2LcKtf9vxcqzrbt429gGJkGV6z7T-9ReF2_WG9bFWY9OG-3oq1dsJCuomqLm8Qv7ZRtoyU3EJRiA5Y43OOc4d3Pz0qxlK9-_pDLs65fkeUbU/s640/RIMG3147.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back into flat water again...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoWVXLkW3zuKyrXgqdnjjuwjEYdTVv36Lnj3PrYHn3lEmR0ZYgtZM00b27t2a0rT-H-9UyEue-qn_e_crO1Nqmb8tqX2gL5ixnDSAXjuRk0LXQalp31Uiw7w8mElrXbwFPeZzHQMZn7k/s1600/RIMG3149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoWVXLkW3zuKyrXgqdnjjuwjEYdTVv36Lnj3PrYHn3lEmR0ZYgtZM00b27t2a0rT-H-9UyEue-qn_e_crO1Nqmb8tqX2gL5ixnDSAXjuRk0LXQalp31Uiw7w8mElrXbwFPeZzHQMZn7k/s640/RIMG3149.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">... until the Fire Brigade turn up and create a load of wash.</td></tr>
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Soon we turned north onto a thoroughly wide canal to head back up to Steenwijk. At frequent intervals along both sides of this we spotted little ramps from water level onto the bank, possibly for some kind of wildlife, although the only animals we was using them were a couple of dogs who'd been for a swim.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcytwrKX2pRTLIkEatLrOCAnEEiLp87ZDRTe7VokDPBMTaIt6C2Ml_52JVdaKMyJfGHlxBx2I7_M8a3H4oLWrJRaAToIM11VCWA2eF2rgrTo6f9-MBjOPwSnNFNzMq6fKtnUYNhVTQ_e0/s1600/RIMG3151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcytwrKX2pRTLIkEatLrOCAnEEiLp87ZDRTe7VokDPBMTaIt6C2Ml_52JVdaKMyJfGHlxBx2I7_M8a3H4oLWrJRaAToIM11VCWA2eF2rgrTo6f9-MBjOPwSnNFNzMq6fKtnUYNhVTQ_e0/s640/RIMG3151.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back onto the equivalent of an A road.</td></tr>
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<h2>
I mentioned Giethoorn (literally "goat horn") earlier...</h2>
The plethora of utterly gorgeous thatched cottages which we rowed past is typical of the whole area which is a National Park, but nowhere are the thatched cottage more idyllic - or more densely packed together - than in the village of Giethoorn, a short bus-ride south of Steenwijk. After just a few minutes wandering along its bijou little canals, you're overcome with feeling of being in some kind of full-size toytown. One of the strangest things about it is that despite it thronging with tourists (unexpectedly including lots of Chinese visitors) during the day, it's always immaculate: the only plausible explanation for this is that fairies do exist and wave away any hint of imperfection with their wands. In a place like Giethoorn this seems perfectly likely.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVITqSXP4DxORzgal8pR0sR30siAJ8v_PtrHI5Wl91yyaEKOULGCogQLPNgUhIwWU0HCc1GRYvxb4v6IoAniTilImXxlElYXOOpi092bJKCrhcBP_Fh3NUT5VeaBcC88y6F-UlHPcV7Pg/s1600/RIMG3156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVITqSXP4DxORzgal8pR0sR30siAJ8v_PtrHI5Wl91yyaEKOULGCogQLPNgUhIwWU0HCc1GRYvxb4v6IoAniTilImXxlElYXOOpi092bJKCrhcBP_Fh3NUT5VeaBcC88y6F-UlHPcV7Pg/s640/RIMG3156.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If Disney did Dutch villages, they would look exactly like Giethoorn. Any resident not having hydrangeas in the front garden would surely risk becoming a social pariah.</td></tr>
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It's an ideal place to stay for a <a href="http://gastroeien.nl/">Gastroeien.nl</a> rowing tour, and you can also hire bikes there to cycle past all the bits you've just rowed along (make sure you ask for cycles with hand brakes not the weird Dutch pedal-backwards-to-slow-down ones) - you'll leave feeling totally sated with the area's charms. There's even a real-live stork-on-a-stick by the museum. Ooievar loved it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi34PWs3OLwEc_bMcMMLFjubOjTA_tuj-gra9HOMF_KELAux8azCc6hXWw7Qyhg4zYtGN6dltQS2_qFk_kgbYHPfhQbX95QN4gQtsXo696wYHNN5vVAzTPG4JEJP_FzwfplyUr7Qc0z9oQ/s1600/RIMG3155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi34PWs3OLwEc_bMcMMLFjubOjTA_tuj-gra9HOMF_KELAux8azCc6hXWw7Qyhg4zYtGN6dltQS2_qFk_kgbYHPfhQbX95QN4gQtsXo696wYHNN5vVAzTPG4JEJP_FzwfplyUr7Qc0z9oQ/s640/RIMG3155.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can also meet actual goats.</td></tr>
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<br />Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com5Steenwijk, Netherlands52.7868939 6.118068600000015152.748485900000006 6.0373876000000148 52.8253019 6.1987496000000153tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-83794969259155462242017-07-15T10:00:00.001+01:002021-08-31T08:02:18.895+01:00Because who wouldn't want to win a stork?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As far as I'm concerned, the Netherlands is marathon rowing heaven. I mean, they have an actual marathon CALENDAR, so many are the 50km+ events that take place each year. Compare that with the UK's single event of that distance... Occasionally I wonder about moving there just so I could take part in them all, but then I'd have nothing to look forward to afterwards (and recent political events have put paid to the idea unless I got on with it very quickly), so instead I'm working my way through their list at the rate of about one a year. But how to choose which one to do next when you're feeling like a kid in a sweet shop?<br />
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Actually, the 54km <a href="http://www.rvdelaak.nl/roeien/marathonroeien/hbm" target="_blank">Haegsche Bluf Marathon</a> (trans "the Hague Bluff Marathon" - despite being almost unpronounceable, a lot of Dutch is quite easy to decipher in writing) was an easy pick for two reasons. First, most of my Dutch marathon rowing friends are members at De Laak, the club that organises it, but second, the prizes are STORKS! Soft toy ones, I hasten to add. And wearing club scarves too. Other events take note.<br />
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<h2>
A bit of background about the "bluff" thing and storks</h2>
The stork is the Hague's municipal symbol. Usually pictured with an eel in its beak. Yum. (If you're a stork.)<br />
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The "bluff" thing is harder to get to the bottom of. There is an area of the Hague called Haagsche Bluf which the route of the marathon passes relatively close by, but not actually through. And Haagsche Bluf was also the name of a current affairs TV programme in the 1980s and 1990s. Neither of these apparently have anything to do with the event's name, but this blog is happy to pass on free useless facts.<br />
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However, as one of the organisers explained, there's also a dessert called Haegsche Bluf, which is puffed up with air, like bluffing is. The recipe seems to involve something like a hamburger sprinkled with currant juice and a lot of sugar, which actually sounds less tasty than an eel and if you ask me, someone was bluffing rather a lot when they passed this off as a pudding!<br />
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[Update: Further info from the race organisers suggests I may be misleadeading you about the hamburger thing, possibly not helped by the Google Translate which came up with "stiff spotted protein" as a translation for what turns out to be beaten egg whites as an ingredient in another version of the recipe.] <br />
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<h2>
The plan and then the change of plan</h2>
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The Haegsche Bluf Marathon offers two events - a "participation" version, and a "racing" version (no prizes for guessing that we entered the racing one) for crews in double wherries, touring coxed doubles and touring coxed quads. On the basis that the more the merrier, we decided to do a mixed quad which involved me and two other women whose names both began with S, and two men whose names began with R. R1 is my husband, and R2 and S2 are brother and sister.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A double wherry: wider than a touring double (C2x+) and with twice the number of coxes. Photo © Andreas Dijk.</td></tr>
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We'd been warned in advance that the course involved some sections that were so narrow that we'd have to use a technique which the Dutch call "Pieterburen" (after a town of that name where it definitely has to be employed). As this was a new one on all of us (despite our approximately 150 years of combined experience), we set out the day before the race to have a practice. </div>
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Pieterburen involves "slipping" your blades on one side so that they are parallel with the boat and paddling fixed seat on the other side (VERY gently at bow) while the cox has the (sizeable) rudder on hard in the other direction. It works surprisingly well unless you grind to a halt, for example by getting your rowing blades tangled in brambles, after which it is nigh on impossible to get the boat moving again and you have to resort to getting bow to turn round and use a canoe paddle.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-Exmiaj9MEvRq32eNBeUHEemOemc_870neFcdbfzJPeTM0TDe_KPo_avEyHCuIsn-AKCilz2s5nNermvvKgcJ_SQGaEaTLTX5RuJbFm2N1FyG4ZMDfctOE-zp9jTyiS4vYeR2d0g_ms/s1600/11666-andreas.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="294" data-original-width="443" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-Exmiaj9MEvRq32eNBeUHEemOemc_870neFcdbfzJPeTM0TDe_KPo_avEyHCuIsn-AKCilz2s5nNermvvKgcJ_SQGaEaTLTX5RuJbFm2N1FyG4ZMDfctOE-zp9jTyiS4vYeR2d0g_ms/s640/11666-andreas.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another crew using the Pieterburen technique. The water lillies weren't helping either. Photo: © Andreas Dijk.</td></tr>
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Having roughly got to grips with Pieterburen, we reminded ourselves how to do in-boat swaps.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Generally, there's no elegant way of swapping in a touring boat. Photo © Sandra Knowles.</td></tr>
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Pleased with how it was all going, we headed back, stuffed ourselves with pasta and got an early night.<br />
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Unfortunately, the morning brought a major problem. The softness of the bed (very) in the hotel didn't agree with S1's back, and she woke up in the wee small hours with it totally locked up. A gentle paddle on the erg suggested that it wasn't going to be talked into loosening up easily but being one of the toughest people I know, she swallowed some ibuprufen and was prepared to give it a go. We got into the boat. We pushed off. Her back said, "You ARE kidding?" People pulled us back in and lifted her out of the boat. Um.<br />
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But the Dutch are calm people, so whilst S2 was looking after S1, I ran through our options with the race organisers. These included S1 coxing the whole route (not in any way a good idea), doing it as a coxed three (which they were happy to let us do but would have put paid to our chance of winning that stork), and borrowing a Dutch rower. Amazingly, there was a volunteer for the latter - Marian, whom I'd done an afternoon's tour with a couple of years ago, and who - crucially - had brought her kit down to the club so that she could go for a short outing in her single once the event crews had all been started. An experienced participation long-distance rower, she'd also paddled the course two days earlier to check that there were no obstructions or anything, and as this was done in a "holiday/stopping for coffee half way" style, she was in a fit state to do it all again. What a star!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our new lineup sets off. Photo © Adrian Graham.</td></tr>
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<h2>
Like a dressage test... and an orienteering course</h2>
Coxing in Britain doesn't require particularly complex boat-handling or steering - our rivers are wide, and although I've done the odd fun thing in my 31 years in boats, such as shooting Barnes Bridge three abreast during the Women's Head with my crew's blades overlapping those of boats we were overtaking on both sides, and the 25-boat mass start of the Tour du Leman, the biggest test of that area of my coxing skill is bringing the boat in to land each outing.<br />
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This was totally different. Think of an Olympic dressage test compared with riding your horse up a field, round a cone, and back to where you started. As I was having so much fun (and the rowing wasn't particularly hard) the crew let me cox for the whole of the first hour, although for the rest of the event we swapped coxing every half hour.<br />
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Early on there were a lot of road bridges which were quite long (enough for two, or sometimes four lanes of traffic and pavements to go over the top). These were also either only just wide enough to row through, thus requiring exceedingly accurate alignment, or too narrow to row through so had to be approached at enough speed that we could drift through with our blades slipped. One of these was also at right angles to the bit of river we'd been rowing on with a strong headwind coming down the river which had to be factored in to where we stopped and turned.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A tight fit. (The black shelf thing running under the bridge is a bypass for hedgehogs.) Photo © Andreas Dijk.</td></tr>
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After getting through it, we had another 45 degree turn which had to be followed by two hard strokes to get the boat moving before stating to Pieterburen. None of which would have been possible without the high skills of my dressage ponies, of course.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting an (official) tow from Renee through a long section where we had to slip on both sides. (sorry about the splash of water on the camera lens - frankly it was a miracle I managed to take pictures whilst also steering!)</td></tr>
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Other highlights in this section included having the occasion to say, "Bamboo on strokeside," and going under the marvellously-named "Fruitweg" bridge, which was indeed the way to the fruit market.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Slippen through the waterlillies" is not the same thing as "tiptoe through the tulips".<br />
Photo © Adrian Graham.</td></tr>
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Later on the course we also had to bring out the common Dutch rowing technique of "liggen" (lying flat backwards to go under a low bridge) and our map-reading ability was tested to the max too - one wrong turn and we could have finished up in Rotterdam.<br />
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Successful marathon rowing in the Netherlands really does require many more skills than just basic rowing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcg_Hn_GN25Wb2lXhmegMDWCaKaruyuQ7xWjps2JBF_aFVskHxm3XUxfdK0l5kIRaFpPC8-1I3OC4_jvJTlIzS0tyKUBhq0glgj_2dfUd4aoUNvbSatBDJz7GIKPJE3oL5XzjFnUwlKw/s1600/DSC_1668.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="1024" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcg_Hn_GN25Wb2lXhmegMDWCaKaruyuQ7xWjps2JBF_aFVskHxm3XUxfdK0l5kIRaFpPC8-1I3OC4_jvJTlIzS0tyKUBhq0glgj_2dfUd4aoUNvbSatBDJz7GIKPJE3oL5XzjFnUwlKw/s640/DSC_1668.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A "wide" bit of canal,but note the 90-degree bend ahead. Photo © Adrian Graham.</td></tr>
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<h2>
Greenhouses, pylons and the biggest sheep ever</h2>
Once we'd got through the obstacle course, the rowing became more normal and there was a bit more time to admire the sights. These mostly involved greenhouses, many of which were growing tomatoes, and which were surrounded by small strips of grass. As mowing these would clearly be fiddly they were generally kept neat by a goat or two, although at one point S2, who was coxing at the time, thought she saw a couple of white cows grazing in front of one. As we got closer, these turned out to be two of the largest sheep we'd ever seen - on reflection, they may well have been texels, a breed originating from the island of Texel in the north west of the Netherlands. Or just a couple of normal ones who had eaten themselves silly. Then again, we were close to the town of Monster (really)...<br />
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By this stage R2 was starting to grumble that he hadn't seem any traditional windmills, other than one near the club (now looking somewhat incongruous in an industrial estate).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Token thatched windmill.</td></tr>
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He soon perked up, though, when I announced (I was coxing again by this point) that we were about to go through a pylon. Actually, he was initially unimpressed with this, muttering something about, "There's nothing special in that, I've often rowed under electricity lines," but when I explained that when I said. "Through a pylon," I meant actually between its legs, he was pretty pleased (he hates tomatoes).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Through the pylon and between the greenhouses.</td></tr>
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Somewhere around here we started overtaking "participation" crews who had set off considerably before us but, cunningly, been diverted up a spur which not only gave them a chance to get out and have a coffee but also kept them out of the way while the bulk of the "race" crews passed, which was a good solution for both groups. As we'd set off about 20 minutes later than we should have because of our enforced crew change, they were back on the main circuit by the time we caught them, and they were all, without exception, incredibly kind about pulling their blades in to let us past.<br />
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Somewhere round here, we passed a commercial building attached to a greenhouse which had a company name on it and the unexpected slogan, "The next step in orchids," which baffled me completely. I mean, who knew there was one, or that we needed one? And what on earth is it?<br />
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<h2>
The clock stops</h2>
After about 37km, we reached the pretty village of Schipluiden where the clock was stopped as it involved several incredibly low bridges including one which couldn't even be rowed under using the full "liggen" technique and had to be raised to let crews through, three at a time so as not to hold up road traffic (which included horses and carriages) excessively. We were delighted to find S1 here who was walking very carefully but was at least upright and had been recruited into the timing team.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7QwgKvXEqAHAom2irFmrdELknJsgk74WlqtRs782FjnWM-eWwHzyMOw8kyBeENKnxAPC6Q9Dl-3cj6Dk92HgU0qRND1aIByRJrxZKqvkr2Z1RhqkbmqjrUKhISu9xm9kpwKAhjD75Gfk/s1600/11873-bol.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="685" data-original-width="1024" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7QwgKvXEqAHAom2irFmrdELknJsgk74WlqtRs782FjnWM-eWwHzyMOw8kyBeENKnxAPC6Q9Dl-3cj6Dk92HgU0qRND1aIByRJrxZKqvkr2Z1RhqkbmqjrUKhISu9xm9kpwKAhjD75Gfk/s640/11873-bol.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arriving in Schipluiden. Photo © Thijs Bol.</td></tr>
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As well as the very low bridges there was a final narrow section. At one point during this R2, who was coxing, told us that we needed to do another ten or so more strokes of Pieterburen until we were, "Past a swan." As I was at three I queried whether we couldn't just row normally as the said waterfowl would surely get out of the way," but he replied that I should wait and see - quite rightly because the swan in question was a six-foot high fibreglass boat moored at the side of the canal. Compare that with the scenery you get on Britain's only 50km rowing marathon...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx403gRbEO1ykzDvOTA3NoLHw9odb9iXYkbCkKDWne2MOChSicU7LeJA2QV_j7DCnhnXl_VyOseH4panuFbRad8j-EgKrMjbiTjuceg9YAT4Y0aA2AQzT5ajCuLFDPqPZoUZp7PnrVYRc/s1600/RIMG3017.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx403gRbEO1ykzDvOTA3NoLHw9odb9iXYkbCkKDWne2MOChSicU7LeJA2QV_j7DCnhnXl_VyOseH4panuFbRad8j-EgKrMjbiTjuceg9YAT4Y0aA2AQzT5ajCuLFDPqPZoUZp7PnrVYRc/s640/RIMG3017.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our opposition in the C4x+ category coming out from under the "golden balls" bridge while we faff around towards the end of the untimed section.</td></tr>
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<h2>
And starts again</h2>
We started the final 8km timed section about 50m ahead of the only other crew in the C4x+ racing category after some quite canny hanging back on their part. Although they had only started rowing the previous year and still had some room for technical improvement, four of them were men and they began to creep up on us inexorably. When we stopped for our final swap, they came past us, but we overtook them back again when they stopped to swap a few minutes later although this was to their configuration with all four men rowing. S1 had told us we were one and a half minutes ahead of them at Schipluiden - it was going to be a close-run thing.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, our ongoing concerns about taking wrong turnings were taken care of by it being Marian's turn to cox, and we were highly reassured by her, "It's OK, I know where I am," after R2 and I had a brief, breathless debate about whether or not we were now on the final extra spur that the race crews had to do to make our course as long as the participation one that had included the coffee stop detour earlier.<br />
<br />
As we headed under the bridge onto the spur, I started counting strokes - I knew it was about 2k, but only roughly. 220 strokes later we got to the control point but - Oh no! - there was a string of sailing dinghies being towed and we had to wait for them to pass before we could turn. Just as we were doing so (whilst I was also cramming in my last Jelly Babies), the oppo appeared. Counting frantically up to 220 again (it later emerged that R1 was doing this too), we legged it back down the spur towards the main river after which we'd been told it was just 600m to the club.<br />
<br />
I looked to my right and saw some dark blue terraced houses. But those hadn't been visible from the club, I thought - aargh - maybe it was going to be more than 600m? Where were we?! To my massive relief the next block of houses were painted the cream colour I'd remembered seeing when we set off and a few strokes later we heard cheering and crossed the line. Overall, we were just six minutes ahead of the others after 5 hours 14 minutes of racing. Seriously hats off to them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_RKAf0mAJBfMdjTgh1Yybk2XJRPeBZk8ndofO8t-Ru7llARHhEDTeH8eWM2GuIQlDvObXDMAKH9-DGbEqZ4T2QwP_0nlKSzrrNRG-6RXhe70osD561CG0ZRRF3bzrqyo-gQCe4-Q8C6Q/s1600/DSC_9376-Martin.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="731" data-original-width="1100" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_RKAf0mAJBfMdjTgh1Yybk2XJRPeBZk8ndofO8t-Ru7llARHhEDTeH8eWM2GuIQlDvObXDMAKH9-DGbEqZ4T2QwP_0nlKSzrrNRG-6RXhe70osD561CG0ZRRF3bzrqyo-gQCe4-Q8C6Q/s640/DSC_9376-Martin.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very pleased to finish. Photo © Martin Paasman.</td></tr>
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<h2>
Some lesson for event organisers everywhere</h2>
I mentioned earlier that the right prizes (such cuddly storks) can have an actual effect on the number of entries an event attracts, but it's also worth saying that the way that you help competitors celebrate their achievements (whether that's completing the row or winning a category) plays a big part and RV De Laak were top notch in this area too.<br />
<br />
Overall the HBM is a cracking event - varied, interesting, very well-organised, and with a friendly bunch of competitors who are more than happy to talk to the English visitors over a beer afterwards. Next year's Dutch rowing marathon has got a lot to live up to...<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDvDqesd56Ec46cChPBofhfHe8MtCE5nTBmN_Kf1WXZa1WXLEpNEltsvRMH40lvaf_pqBFt_qGEtYGgV3RlQx3oDZwKUjvJBscYq5l5QvbXUzXPgMzcgHrvLxIF_-CdbXw2wlIrIbSvfo/s1600/DSC_9396-Martin.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="731" data-original-width="1100" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDvDqesd56Ec46cChPBofhfHe8MtCE5nTBmN_Kf1WXZa1WXLEpNEltsvRMH40lvaf_pqBFt_qGEtYGgV3RlQx3oDZwKUjvJBscYq5l5QvbXUzXPgMzcgHrvLxIF_-CdbXw2wlIrIbSvfo/s640/DSC_9396-Martin.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rowing equivalent of a "stirrup cup" on arrival. Photo © Martin Paasman.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNNYhwWb3U7HpYYrVyMwCJ_VEnQP_WfkIelHYX63Pm4aYVPBKnVMgNU2GyXqomR8R7_oRvCbDBHrR1mmgvlDBrdimtUofCQvN7xUpp5Ai6SWddkzXpRZaLSMOYNs_Lxn2tnxNLWhRSW_k/s1600/DSC_9388-Martin.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="276" data-original-width="415" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNNYhwWb3U7HpYYrVyMwCJ_VEnQP_WfkIelHYX63Pm4aYVPBKnVMgNU2GyXqomR8R7_oRvCbDBHrR1mmgvlDBrdimtUofCQvN7xUpp5Ai6SWddkzXpRZaLSMOYNs_Lxn2tnxNLWhRSW_k/s640/DSC_9388-Martin.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How many British events can boast of a velvet medal-cushion in club colours? <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Photo © Martin Paasman.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc8Pc19_0jD3BGY7s70Ii5R8HptC-AGQU76wvhbnufHNFpHw6TKyN1WaoBB-7pDNCcKkKra10qnyJo46UGQSuhP-5Nt675CS_NALT5VfkzGtUtFanwwG_-EJUIn7TWI9JuSWTVTbY7zOI/s1600/RIMG3021.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc8Pc19_0jD3BGY7s70Ii5R8HptC-AGQU76wvhbnufHNFpHw6TKyN1WaoBB-7pDNCcKkKra10qnyJo46UGQSuhP-5Nt675CS_NALT5VfkzGtUtFanwwG_-EJUIn7TWI9JuSWTVTbY7zOI/s640/RIMG3021.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We won the stork! And we were also thrilled to help Marion to her first win.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNo7o1ZStpzwTIn2HJ0EtMDwAxqbKBXnH8Q0D4GAnX7BF-q0Rk_-_wMXEr6OekaIuBJry_VPUVb4ZqXlc_RAYvtrARGQcwKAe4on6ZodXIATbYmsuejsv4Qts8B-HwGtgm1Tj4LwaViQ/s1600/DSC_9554-Martin.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="731" data-original-width="1099" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNo7o1ZStpzwTIn2HJ0EtMDwAxqbKBXnH8Q0D4GAnX7BF-q0Rk_-_wMXEr6OekaIuBJry_VPUVb4ZqXlc_RAYvtrARGQcwKAe4on6ZodXIATbYmsuejsv4Qts8B-HwGtgm1Tj4LwaViQ/s640/DSC_9554-Martin.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Having joined the volunteer team, in a particularly nice touch, the club presented S1 with a volunteer stork. <br />
Photo © Martin Paasman.</td></tr>
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Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com6The Hague, Netherlands52.0704978 4.300699900000040551.9143338 3.9779764000000406 52.226661799999995 4.6234234000000409tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-72939916232562217832017-06-09T18:26:00.001+01:002019-04-29T14:54:51.785+01:00Venetian rowing and why it's like pushing a fridge<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFvc1OTQBQkvNKRaoYmXufXEC9wJ4qLgoir_M1wG48KTpQ3J0phQAPb5KgIhcLdmYbPLoRezlo_Oll3ViaRMxDPPXxFoEyanCXYix9qqWFGc0KWkx0jzHCYrEP3CkJ7RofaxVZ8rGcKFM/s1600/091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFvc1OTQBQkvNKRaoYmXufXEC9wJ4qLgoir_M1wG48KTpQ3J0phQAPb5KgIhcLdmYbPLoRezlo_Oll3ViaRMxDPPXxFoEyanCXYix9qqWFGc0KWkx0jzHCYrEP3CkJ7RofaxVZ8rGcKFM/s200/091.JPG" width="200" /></a>For those of us for whom rowing means heading forwards while going backwards, hanging off our blade handles and - above all - sitting DOWN, Venetian-style rowing is about as different as you can get whilst still being rowing. But for all that, the tiny taste I had of it in a RowVenice lesson was as delicious as a Cornetto (not provided).<br />
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There's nothing that quite makes a holiday like being able to row during it and even though my recent trip to Venice was for the purpose of taking part in the Vogalonga (literally, "long row"), <a href="https://expeditionrowing.blogspot.co.uk/2008/05/vogalonga-seated-rowing-is-just-boring.html" target="_blank">I'd done that before</a> so I really needed a different rowing fix and anyway I was dead keen on having a go at the Venetian-style stand up version.<br />
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<b>Why do Ventians row standing up?</b><br />
I'd previously been told that it was because it enabled them to spot and therefore avoid any rocks under the water in the shallow lagoon between the various islands that surround the main part of Venice. And it certainly would let you do that. But, observing water traffic more carefully in the city centre, it's also the only possible option. The canal streets are so narrow that boats with oars sticking out the side simply couldn't get through most of them and certainly couldn't pass other ones, and you really do need a forward view to negotiate the low bridges and constant corners as well as avoiding everyone else.<br />
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Compared with Italian road traffic, Venetian boaters all seemed both highly skilled and extremely courteous, from the driver of the ugliest metal bin barge to the junior (more on him later) out doing his race boat training. Canal rage is apparently not a thing.<br />
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<b>How to do it (this is where the fridge-pushing comes in)</b><br />
I'd booked a lesson with <a href="http://rowvenice.org/" target="_blank">RowVenice.org</a> which is run by a group of Prosecco-loving women who take tourists for picnics and rowing lessons in their 'batelline coda di gambero' or "little, shrimp-tailed boats' which are a lot more beginner-friendly than gondolas, being more stable and easier to manoeuvre but otherwise much the same thing without the bling.<br />
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However, for us river rowers who wouldn't dream of going on the water without a solid rubber bow ball to minimise the effects on the other party of a collision, it was quite a surprise to see a pointed, stainless steel finial sort of thing on the bows instead, but I guess this is OK with the skill levels and etiquette-observance of the Venetians (it was noted that us tourists were not let anywhere near the steering until we were in thoroughly open water).<br />
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For someone who introduced herself as speaking terrible English which she claimed she'd learned in Tesco in Chelmsford where her daughter was working while studying, our instructor Anna had some fabulous colloquial phrases. After sorting me about about where to put my feet, where to hold the blade, and which way up it should go, she described the basic action as "pushing the fridge", which was actually pretty helpful as it carried a clear vision of pushing away at chest height and with both hands equally.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHxhn12npkrBgwbgUYZ6b3GSTYN6YUtmfsjizexFa-uTE07QY3O8vxA9M-XOUv8DSfdKUTqAeT4kFX00COpZKlXqXuXnjsEct5Tfy5__rAzagdH_vbffryjYHF3anxM2Ct9PSTbKttggU/s1600/089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHxhn12npkrBgwbgUYZ6b3GSTYN6YUtmfsjizexFa-uTE07QY3O8vxA9M-XOUv8DSfdKUTqAeT4kFX00COpZKlXqXuXnjsEct5Tfy5__rAzagdH_vbffryjYHF3anxM2Ct9PSTbKttggU/s640/089.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Practising pushing the fridge.</td></tr>
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<br />
Having taken a few strokes while still moored to the bank (No mooring ring? no problem! Just bang a sliver of wood in between the marble flagstones!), we set off. It was ace. But after a few minutes of feeling the Venetian rowing joy, she said, "Come on Helena, now use your legs!" So I did, and my blade immediately popped out of the <i>forcola </i>in a kind of reverse crab action. I forgot to ask what the Italian for that is.<br />
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To be fair, we were using the 'professional' forcola (wooden thole pin/rigger thingy) not the 'beginner' one (which was liberally wrapped in parcel tape, much like novice equipment everywhere) that the boat had on it from her previous lesson. Having explained in advance that we had done just a bit of sit down rowing (and punting in Judy's case), she swapped the forcole, a process that involves hammering in little wedges of wood to fix it securely. No 13mm top nuts here.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note the poiny metal bit on the bow.</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
Anna also introduced the concept of "spreading Nutella" which is what you do to return your blade to the forcola after it has been tucked back against the side of the boat for planned (to pass by something else very close) or unplanned (rank incompetence) reasons.<br />
<br />
Armed with these techniques, we were soon heading out of the small canal where we'd started and towards what Anna somewhat alarmingly described as "the motorway" which was marked by two lines of posts. Motor water taxis, youngsters in the floating equivalents of hot hatches, and 'Signor white van' boats were ploughing up and down without much regard for the concept of 'Keep your distance'. Even on the M25 you don't get wash like that...<br />
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However she reassured me that traditional boats had right of way and we managed to cross the 'road' without being mown down.<br />
<br />
Now it was time literally to step up from being the <i>provina</i> ("woman near the bow") to the stern position which was up out of the safety of the cockpit and also required steering.<br />
<br />
This was where the pointy metal bulb on the bows became relevant as the steersperson is apparently meant to use it as their compass to set a course for a distant landmark. This was not something I particularly got to grips with, largely because I didn't need a small pointy thing to tell me that I was heading in totally the wrong direction.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More practice needed. A lot more.</td></tr>
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<br />
All I can say is that steering a standup boat is proper difficult. Massive respect to the gondoliers and all those who did it so neatly in the scrum that is parts of the Vogalonga. Basically, you push the handle away from you to take a stroke and then twist the blade forwards so that it runs at an angle through the water on the 'recovery' to steer. Paddling on my own, I was basically backing down after each stroke and then going nowhere.<br />
<br />
When someone else joined in as the <i>provina</i>, wild zig-zagging ensued. There was certainly none of the precision steering needed to snatch an ice cream from the unsuspecting hand of a passer by.<br />
<br />
But we did get some singing. Fortunately this was not yet another rendition of <i>O sole mio </i>but rather a traditional folk song (I think) that Anna sang to try and get us into the right rhythm. It worked a bit and was certainly a delightful part of the whole experience.<br />
<br />
All too soon we had to head back into the canal (with Anna on the stern oar again, obviously, to avoid splatting the boat into the nearest palazzo wall). A final treat was seeing a young lad haring at great speed towards us in what I think was a <i>sandolo. </i>Using two blades, with massive cross over and no buttons, he was clearly incredibly skilled. "How old are you?" Anna called out to him. "16," he shouted before executing a perfect 90-degree turn and charging off down the next canal.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-kzhQHYl17TeHT2htzb26pSVcBKsZYsWU6hrglzSRXBcAsgzJGoG4s6GVDj7OuoBAk2s4qLDsINseOAqWmlnGIetqfh8l3cR5gSzsok_xTDmIrxp2plieyXkTwZkp4ri6UFT1f57rhio/s1600/RIMG2829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-kzhQHYl17TeHT2htzb26pSVcBKsZYsWU6hrglzSRXBcAsgzJGoG4s6GVDj7OuoBAk2s4qLDsINseOAqWmlnGIetqfh8l3cR5gSzsok_xTDmIrxp2plieyXkTwZkp4ri6UFT1f57rhio/s640/RIMG2829.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not just your average J16 out sculling</td></tr>
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In summary, if you're a rower and you go to Venice, go Venetian rowing. Its cheaper than a gondola ride of the same duration and you feel like a local instead of tourist.<br />
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And afterwards, feel free to have an ice cream.<br />
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Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com3Venice, Italy45.4408474 12.31551509999997145.0840994 11.67006809999997 45.797595400000006 12.960962099999971tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-21025087899839644182017-05-25T10:52:00.000+01:002017-12-11T22:11:10.514+00:00I-Spy on a Meander<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBg6WzfMDO_nOI2cEJgj8-qB9Mfse-a6SdvMnuYme9DOkjBW8CuIPw1ZKxie8em-VNH55TscwluIvYldJnfADGuhasdJr-IWMq5H5auev_ClQeGwP6s2OOEplNggLcTp7zawuCZqAEaOU/s1600/RIMG2608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBg6WzfMDO_nOI2cEJgj8-qB9Mfse-a6SdvMnuYme9DOkjBW8CuIPw1ZKxie8em-VNH55TscwluIvYldJnfADGuhasdJr-IWMq5H5auev_ClQeGwP6s2OOEplNggLcTp7zawuCZqAEaOU/s200/RIMG2608.JPG" width="200" /></a></h2>
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Let's start with some definitions. "I-Spy" books were much loved by those of us who were kids in the 1970s - and probably by our parents too as they kept us vaguely occupied when on holiday. Each little booklet contained a list of things you might see (with a short, informative explanation), which you ticked off and got "points" for: in I-Spy Birds, for example, you got something like 5 points for a mallard but 50 for an osprey. You get the idea. Some were easier than others: the whole of I-Spy Churches could be completed on a single visit to York Minster, but I digress.<br />
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Once you'd amassed 1,500 points you could send off your book to Big Chief I-Spy at Wigwam-on-the-Green (why do I remember this stuff?) and it would come back with a stamp on it. Children were more easily pleased then.<br />
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Moving on, a "meander" is the name given by the Thames skiffing community to a row down the navigable, non-tidal Thames from Lechlade to Teddington. Obviously these are best done during the summer months, which leaves the winter for skiffers to weave yarns about epic meanders of years gone by and, of course, come up with new plans. These will inevitably seem like great ideas at the time but a fast track to sore body parts and the consumption of ridiculous numbers of Jelly Babies if they actually come to fruition. </div>
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And so it was that three of us - who had all completed the trip in (coxed) double skiffs - thought that we should do it the "hard" way in single skiffs. A singles trip, if you like, but not THAT kind of singles trip. So there we were; two 14-stone blokes and a jumped up cox with a taste for expedition rowing. Well, they'd just have to wait for me at the locks (all 41 of them).</div>
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This is the story of our four-day, 185km trip (we stopped at our club in Walton rather than going all the way to Teddington), expressed in the medium of I-Spy.<br />
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Bends (5 points)</h2>
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The Thames we all row on is mostly quite wide and at worst only a bit curvey. Above Oxford, though, it's proper wiggley, It meanders, in fact. Apart from a couple of incidents which left me and my boat looking like we'd been dragged through a willow backwards (we had), I was on a roll for the first day as we negotiated these, not least because their greater speed was actually a hindrance in reacting quickly to yet another bend. When our land team (aka Anne) met us at the Ferry at Bablock Hythe with sandwiches, the others weren't even in sight. "Where are the boys?" she enquired. "In reeds, mostly," I replied.<br />
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Land team (10 points)</h2>
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Anne, another skiffer and wife of one of my meander mates, pursued us by car for much of the trip, which is easier said than done because the roads and the river of the Thames Valley are about as co-ordinated as snakes and ladders on a board. As we were concerned that many of the locks would be unmanned, Anne's ability to appear at them (frankly, I was convinced she must have been apparating) was extremely welcome and involved a considerable amount of cross-country running as the nearest public road access is usually not that close. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipBfW85E277LkBkyTtoHE_vKprtxAAOSHenGdIBfxIEJWuHToRrgmwqjXmsKJO1yPJK6s28hblplaDu-J5zGXnI6Uo1xXHb3qzhog86gk4ljhd_NWjKhDmN516c-e1ehNn3hRRY3DPzEc/s1600/RIMG2618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipBfW85E277LkBkyTtoHE_vKprtxAAOSHenGdIBfxIEJWuHToRrgmwqjXmsKJO1yPJK6s28hblplaDu-J5zGXnI6Uo1xXHb3qzhog86gk4ljhd_NWjKhDmN516c-e1ehNn3hRRY3DPzEc/s640/RIMG2618.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another amazing Anne appearance.</td></tr>
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Lock keeper (10 points)</h2>
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These proved to be less rare than we'd expected, given that cuts to the Environment Agency's budget mean that one keeper often has to cover two locks, although at one the keeper told us he was only there for 5 minutes and that was when we'd appeared.<br />
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Baby waterfowl (10 points)</h2>
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Doing the trip in late May meant that there could be frequent "Oohs" and "Aahs" at cute, fuzzy ducklings, goslings (pink-footed, Canada and Egyptian), cygnets and coot chicks. Saw a few moorhens but not their young.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjnvecjWk-3wgKHq7OSicAMusBDNALtjnJSvvV5LAjen65GWrqg13t87-dx768q4XbrSY26ocUWV8sM7ddSbGX3B8uvekPPzo-0e8GE2L2B918XIgRQTewAAy7fic4uNHgx2xFNTTQubA/s1600/RIMG2611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjnvecjWk-3wgKHq7OSicAMusBDNALtjnJSvvV5LAjen65GWrqg13t87-dx768q4XbrSY26ocUWV8sM7ddSbGX3B8uvekPPzo-0e8GE2L2B918XIgRQTewAAy7fic4uNHgx2xFNTTQubA/s640/RIMG2611.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saw seven swans a-nesting (plus some others). </td></tr>
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<h2>
Unusual birds (20 points each)</h2>
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Cuckoo (heard but not seen), curlew (as confirmed by next lock keeper) on the reedy upper stretches, and a kestrel hovering (below Goring). Loads of red kites from just above Henley too, of course, and cormorants pretending to be espalier fruit trees opposite Windsor Castle.<br />
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Willows (5 points alive, 10 points dead)</h2>
A cry of, "Willows!" was frequently passed back from the lead skiffer in our little flotilla (as well as, "Cruiser!" and occasionally, "Goslings!"). Sometimes the advice had been harder-learned than others.<br />
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Last time I meandered the Thames was just after the floody winter of 2013/2014 and I was horrified by the number of willows which had split their trunks and were sitting in the river, still alive and rooting rapidly - and severely restricting the navigation channel. But with miles and miles of trees like this, pruning it all back was clearly a massive task. So it was great to see on this trip that land owners had actually achieved more than I had expected, with numerous rows of heavily pollarded trees.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9t_hJ4MCew96DBUFM6TvrOykXrY_FWmeA1SGsL1Pk6hXaVmqv42OjUdpJPKF2qCOX0cAbdEhoyC9nNB9yVl4rvGdkgJ_q1MVvHOVo_agVg7j45wyMPEaDNWB8bkeFvma_J9S9n2LmTdY/s1600/RIMG2604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9t_hJ4MCew96DBUFM6TvrOykXrY_FWmeA1SGsL1Pk6hXaVmqv42OjUdpJPKF2qCOX0cAbdEhoyC9nNB9yVl4rvGdkgJ_q1MVvHOVo_agVg7j45wyMPEaDNWB8bkeFvma_J9S9n2LmTdY/s640/RIMG2604.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A weed is a plant in the wrong place, and "in the river" is defiinitely the wrong place for willows to be.</td></tr>
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Cute constructions (10 points)</h2>
Back in the days before lock keepers had TVs, online gaming or Instagram to help those long winter evenings fly by (I <i>am </i>making this up, by the way), they would turn their hands to various crafts, the fruits of which they would display at their place of work to amuse passing boaters.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuD1slWUr1RoycfRbcNWi2HZ2VEcLy5o-zhyphenhyphen1m_A_xaemdp1yksZ1hACIEIxBXa_Q5c5fkW6pahxy0bug-EM3mleBgOSYnKUJ5rGILHCXZcQxd-H0I0usxZOtWufKMbh5tGUAgnRLTKhQ/s1600/RIMG2596.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuD1slWUr1RoycfRbcNWi2HZ2VEcLy5o-zhyphenhyphen1m_A_xaemdp1yksZ1hACIEIxBXa_Q5c5fkW6pahxy0bug-EM3mleBgOSYnKUJ5rGILHCXZcQxd-H0I0usxZOtWufKMbh5tGUAgnRLTKhQ/s640/RIMG2596.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dear little houses at Buscot Lock (I think).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNiMptLTNOd4G8U9Ycn4R7jMZUCtG8lbghkOfGLjqZY_Eg7IPxvliAzhGr_eB54PHoGX3E_LJTwSB2z5z5JAuUNxWBqwnjN9XeFibST2ZeM-Xcaasyu7eZ6AcQvSSh_4wgmec1E-wFWT4/s1600/RIMG2620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNiMptLTNOd4G8U9Ycn4R7jMZUCtG8lbghkOfGLjqZY_Eg7IPxvliAzhGr_eB54PHoGX3E_LJTwSB2z5z5JAuUNxWBqwnjN9XeFibST2ZeM-Xcaasyu7eZ6AcQvSSh_4wgmec1E-wFWT4/s640/RIMG2620.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wooden animals at Abingdon where there was also a helpful sign saying. "Keep the red floaty things on your right as you exit the lock". The Campaign for Plain English would be proud.</td></tr>
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Purple irises (5 points)</h2>
If your lock doesn't have these, you're just not trying hard enough. (See pic above.)</div>
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Pillboxes (15 points)</h2>
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As usual, attempts to count these bastions of defence collapsed after about the first five. Built as part on the north bank of the Thames in World War II, they were a key part of "Stopline Red," the first point that an invasion from the South coast might have been halted. There are loads up at the top of the Thames - the furthest downstream one I noticed was on the Wallingford stretch.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDvEh_GX5ilniWzY8WO0f_FhgwnJaVdqgR8m28ksjE6BQMnHXg5D9Ea9mP31cxpOs0R434lko8kIGQ7Z_U2yerPyhr4U1ToOo9smpHlJDKofgV-9WhQdvkjRvgUOKN3eHoyIeNh5RPhMA/s1600/RIMG2600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDvEh_GX5ilniWzY8WO0f_FhgwnJaVdqgR8m28ksjE6BQMnHXg5D9Ea9mP31cxpOs0R434lko8kIGQ7Z_U2yerPyhr4U1ToOo9smpHlJDKofgV-9WhQdvkjRvgUOKN3eHoyIeNh5RPhMA/s640/RIMG2600.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pillbox: to be honest, when you've seen one, you've seen 'em all.</td></tr>
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Elliptical skew arches (30 points)</h2>
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Moulsford railway bridge on the Wallingford stretch is my absolutely favourite bridge. One of Isambard Kingdom Brunel's finest creations, it crosses the Thames diagonally yet its arches follow the line of the river. Sooo clever! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMYlKoys0syn1GYCabSZEzvHBURjvKd7_MEITaHw3wUCx67hL_nA4zc-TVVMJTwPY6Y6Pu2EYuiPHAaSLjfOr-jb34E302kYKYh0ks78p4ST8QNYnBI0OKYbq-wM7jPEJEXC8UylQ04rs/s1600/RIMG2630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMYlKoys0syn1GYCabSZEzvHBURjvKd7_MEITaHw3wUCx67hL_nA4zc-TVVMJTwPY6Y6Pu2EYuiPHAaSLjfOr-jb34E302kYKYh0ks78p4ST8QNYnBI0OKYbq-wM7jPEJEXC8UylQ04rs/s640/RIMG2630.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out that BRICKWORK!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFtT98LVTnjuGdekvyZJwDWlkBBIYsZfmbk2Cz_gq-FLmqXGhoZ_DQuWtmXaZPEjx2g9VgNs4pSsnytEXgyGkkxL0ZuzLULfF2M2nBOSXVrpCNLDq__Y-xrCygKYHr-Sa6R5mI3_6H-bU/s1600/RIMG2633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFtT98LVTnjuGdekvyZJwDWlkBBIYsZfmbk2Cz_gq-FLmqXGhoZ_DQuWtmXaZPEjx2g9VgNs4pSsnytEXgyGkkxL0ZuzLULfF2M2nBOSXVrpCNLDq__Y-xrCygKYHr-Sa6R5mI3_6H-bU/s640/RIMG2633.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Those are Bath stone quoins, you know...</td></tr>
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Massive stately home (25 points)</h2>
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I must have been coxing or looking at ducks or something all the other times I've rowed the stretch between Cookham and Boulters locks because I'd never noticed how Cliveden is perfectly angled at the top of its hill to give it a vista straight down the river. What better way of giving its owners the impression of being the masters of all they surveyed.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVdNRBf_ORZ65U_pFmVEkut7pa0_laUCIO3w_zr3E4siNsjPc7ijKNos2A3BF7GN5XgjckPRvaNDyYALfbtKdhK-CAD1lxE8tYZvExROqhhRb1E3BZO9E3g94TfXwbT4ha3atjZAkifXA/s1600/Cliveden.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="935" data-original-width="1600" height="371" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVdNRBf_ORZ65U_pFmVEkut7pa0_laUCIO3w_zr3E4siNsjPc7ijKNos2A3BF7GN5XgjckPRvaNDyYALfbtKdhK-CAD1lxE8tYZvExROqhhRb1E3BZO9E3g94TfXwbT4ha3atjZAkifXA/s640/Cliveden.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cliveden is in the V in the dip in the tree line just to the left of centre in this picture. </td></tr>
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<h2>
Letter box (30 points)</h2>
Fake letterboxes have apparently been popping up in various locations on the mid-Thames over the past few years. Is it art? Or a better class of graffiti? Dunno, but this one just upstream of the start of Reading Head amused me for a few strokes!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3wpGzujU95FLIz1Am-6-bZxcnGGAPM-CgNU_8gglLlMY4l_pnIhR9_N2SZS2O8wKJutdWKIVn2uVkNaqUy5_D_XF_aZKoG9ShRjDOIiAeZq_z79iuVlxCM4tkcT94U7MMKf5LE1ZFkco/s1600/RIMG2642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3wpGzujU95FLIz1Am-6-bZxcnGGAPM-CgNU_8gglLlMY4l_pnIhR9_N2SZS2O8wKJutdWKIVn2uVkNaqUy5_D_XF_aZKoG9ShRjDOIiAeZq_z79iuVlxCM4tkcT94U7MMKf5LE1ZFkco/s640/RIMG2642.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mooring "post"?</td></tr>
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<h2>
Archimedes screw (40 points)</h2>
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Romney lock stands out from its siblings in two most unusual ways. First, it has two Archimedes screws that are used to power Windsor Castle. And second, it is the only lock on the Thames that <a href="https://twitter.com/RomneyWeir" target="_blank">tweets in the first person</a>, e.g. "All my radial gates are down. 1 of my Archimedes screws is rotating (very quickly); the other is resting. Lots & lots of lovely sun <img alt="🌞" aria-label="Emoji: Sun with face" class="Emoji Emoji--forText" draggable="false" src="https://abs.twimg.com/emoji/v2/72x72/1f31e.png" style="background-color: #f5f8fa; border: 0px; color: #14171a; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; height: 1.25em; padding: 0px 0.05em 0px 0.1em; vertical-align: -0.2em; white-space: pre-wrap; width: 1.25em;" title="Sun with face" /><img alt="🌞" aria-label="Emoji: Sun with face" class="Emoji Emoji--forText" draggable="false" src="https://abs.twimg.com/emoji/v2/72x72/1f31e.png" style="background-color: #f5f8fa; border: 0px; color: #14171a; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; height: 1.25em; padding: 0px 0.05em 0px 0.1em; vertical-align: -0.2em; white-space: pre-wrap; width: 1.25em;" title="Sun with face" /><img alt="😎" aria-label="Emoji: Smiling face with sunglasses" class="Emoji Emoji--forText" draggable="false" src="https://abs.twimg.com/emoji/v2/72x72/1f60e.png" style="background-color: #f5f8fa; border: 0px; color: #14171a; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; height: 1.25em; padding: 0px 0.05em 0px 0.1em; vertical-align: -0.2em; white-space: pre-wrap; width: 1.25em;" title="Smiling face with sunglasses" /><img alt="😎" aria-label="Emoji: Smiling face with sunglasses" class="Emoji Emoji--forText" draggable="false" src="https://abs.twimg.com/emoji/v2/72x72/1f60e.png" style="background-color: #f5f8fa; border: 0px; color: #14171a; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; height: 1.25em; padding: 0px 0.05em 0px 0.1em; vertical-align: -0.2em; white-space: pre-wrap; width: 1.25em;" title="Smiling face with sunglasses" />." Gotta love a lock like that!<br />
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<h2>
Widdling lock (10 points)</h2>
As we dropped down at Romney lock, the wall started widdling into my boat. Which makes a change from the usual direction of this kind of transaction between mankind and walls...<br />
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<h2>
Windsor Castle (25 points)</h2>
You can't miss it, or the fact that Her Majesty doesn't want you to land in her garden.<br />
<br />
There were a heck of a lot of willows for the unwary just upstream of Home Park. Perhaps Her Majesty could lend the Environment Agency one of her groundsmen and a pair of shears for the day? Her skiffing subjects would be terribly grateful...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We get the message.</td></tr>
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<h2>
Headwind (5 points)</h2>
Not many points for spotting this because it was easy to find! Bah.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The End.</td></tr>
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<br />Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com4River Thames, United Kingdom51.5855735 -0.6160753000000340850.3226475 -3.1978623000000339 52.8484995 1.9657116999999658tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-26441123802340011952016-09-24T22:48:00.000+01:002016-10-05T22:13:16.114+01:00Lake Geneva again: the 10th anniversary edition<div class="MsoPlainText">
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Ten years ago, I was a cox who could scull. Competently, but not fast enough to win any races. And after 20 year in the sport, I still had what British Rowing designates Novice status. Officially, I was the lowest of the low as an oarswoman.<br />
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But then I discovered marathon rowing.<br />
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Initially, I decided that I should have a go at sculling the 50km Boston Marathon (that's Boston in Lincolnshire, don't forget).<br />
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This was scary. Apart from anything else, as I was coxing a serious senior crew eight times a week, I wasn't really doing much training.<br />
<br />
But before the BM even took place, my "rowing challenge" goalposts got moved. One of the crew I was coxing found out about the 160km Tour du Léman à l'Aviron. We entered. And my rowing life (not sure why I included the word "rowing" in there) changed forever. For the better, I hasten to add.<br />
<br />
Ten years later, I've started the Tour du Léman seven times, finished it six (we sank one year, but so did almost everyone else) and won the "Elite Feminine" (read that in a French accent) category four times. But better still, I've made friends in the sizeable Dutch marathon rowing community there and have taken part with them in subsequent Tours du Léman as well as all sorts of other events in the Netherlands and Finland.<br />
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I have, of course, learned a tremendous amount about marathon rowing in the intervening years (although I have failed to work out how not to be beguiled by the Tour du Leman from entering it again and again, of course),<br />
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Conditions this year (calm-ish, hot in the middle of the day, no colder than cool after dark) were pretty similar to those in 2006. Almost everything else was totally different though:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me at bow. Dutch friends at 2 and 3. Hannah at stroke.</td></tr>
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<b>Then</b>: Mixed crew.<br />
<b>Now</b>: Women's crew. I have nothing against mixed crews in principle, but in practice, I prefer a women's crew as you don't need to move the footplates when you swap coxing, there are fewer issues in the toilet department, and we smell less.<br />
<b></b><br />
<b></b>
<b>Then</b>: Rated about 20 for several hours.<br />
<b>Now: </b> Rated 24-25 the whole way. The most efficient way to row touring boats (also known as C boats on the continent) a long distance is just to keep tapping it along. Keeping long, of course.<br />
<br />
<b>Then</b>:<b> </b>GPS batteries died somewhere along the French shore.<br />
<b>Now</b>: We know the course well, have added some waypoints of our own to keep the best line after Yvoire, and we're fast enough we get to Sciez practically in daylight (helped by the race start being moved back to 8am). And I bought a new GPS.<br />
<br />
<b>Then</b>: Took FAR too much water. Poured loads out at the top of the lake and still finished with gallons of the stuff.<br />
<b>Now</b>: Only take two litres each and "make" any extra needed using sterilising tablets. Quite a lot of the locals don't even bother with those. We do go past Evian after all.<br />
<br />
<b>Then</b>: Wore an all-in-one.<br />
<b>Now</b>: Wore shorts. If you want to know why, try pulling a damp all-in-one up whilst sitting on a rowing seat after having a wee.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loving the trophies as much as ever.</td></tr>
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<b>Then</b>: Goal – to finish.<br />
<b>Now</b>: 1) To win the women's category.<br />
2) To beat our previous best place of 11th.<br />
3) To beat our best-ever time of 14 hours 29 minutes.<br />
4) To break the record (this was a decidedly BHAG or "big, hairy, audacious goal").<br />
<br />
We succeeded with 1 and 2 but were 19 mins (2.2%) away from goal 3 or and 48 minutes (5.7%) from goal 4. You'll note that "finishing" wasn't even listed – it was assumed. This change in mindset was best summed up by Hannah who described how she now takes more carbohydrates to eat during the race than she did when we were "only" trying to get round.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winners continue to be grinners.</td></tr>
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<b>Then</b>: Time: 16 hours 24 minutes.<br />
<b>Now</b>: Time: 14 hours 48 minutes.<br />
<br />
<b>Then</b>: Not sure what position we finished in, but there were 19 crews so it was probably somewhere around 15th.<br />
<b>Now</b>: 9th out of 22. Beating two men's and nine mixed crews.<br />
<br />
<b>Then</b>: Thoughts on finishing – "Thank goodness", and "we never have to do this again".<br />
<b>Now</b>: Thoughts on finishing – "What do we need to change to beat the record set by a German crew in 2004 which included a women who had won an Olympic medal that year?"</div>
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Of course, the biggest difference between then and is knowing we can do it. Marathon rowing is as least as much mental as it is physical.<br />
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Not bad for a novice, though, eh?<br />
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<i>Thanks as ever to Gerald for the airport transfers, taking us back to the dormitory after the race, timing us at Versoix AND Le Bouveret, Stephane for organising, Charlie and his team of juniors for putting our boats on the water and (possible THE best thing about this event) taking them off again after, and all the other volunteers too.</i></div>
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Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-85569261467291241722016-09-03T11:18:00.000+01:002018-10-19T16:46:47.773+01:0012 reasons why the Great River Race really is great<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In a fine example of that "six degrees of separation" thing, I got an email last Thursday evening from, let's call her A, who is a member of my skiff club. It was passed to her by a member of another rowing club she belongs to, now known as B. B had received it from C, who had taken a pretty scattergun approach after receiving a plea from D who had belatedly been told that the crew which someone else (not worthy of a letter) was going to provide for Saturday's <a href="http://www.greatriverrace.co.uk/index.php" target="_blank">Great River Race</a> in London was not going to happen, and he needed five shipmates pronto. Owing to the C's broadcast, D had actually filled his empty seats by the time I replied, but by then D's wife (E) needed another rower for her crew as someone was ill.<br />
<br />
And so it was that around 36 hours after I first got that email (and the lack of preparation was a guilty pleasure), I met what I was expecting to be a bunch of complete strangers under the clock in Waterloo Station on Saturday morning, only to discover that one of them was F, who I've known for nearly 20 years. Although, let's be honest, using rowing to prove the six degrees theory is no more scientific than using kittens to prove that wool tangles.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't know what PWR stands for but <br />
I liked the Ratty on its flag.</td></tr>
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None of which is anything to do with what makes the Great River Race so great, but it kicked my day off to an enjoyable start.<br />
<br />
<b>Great River Race BASICS</b><br />
The GRR is a race for boats powered by at least four oars or paddles, which must be coxed and have a separate passenger (although crew members can change roles during the race). Neither riggers nor sliding seats are allowed (although OUTriggers are permitted on Hawaiian canoes which also get a special dispensation regarding coxes – the classifications are sufficiently complex and extensive that they would be more than adequate as a Specialist Subject on Mastermind), but fortunately there's nothing in the rules banning Lycra, Lucozade or GPS devices, three things that I can't contemplate an expedition row without.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigZ-o72xcTZXIWnzVc1a7TP9K50RKe_eMXnlSrseHlkhGVI5Av1Uu4jc8AZYw79lu9VJ_QgsX69_Vp2pT_U9W3yMn8pz9E_xmSYlNMfii1JAqn_oei6TY1aR8K-g91Yj6ojSJ8syCtdMo/s1600/RIMG2084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigZ-o72xcTZXIWnzVc1a7TP9K50RKe_eMXnlSrseHlkhGVI5Av1Uu4jc8AZYw79lu9VJ_QgsX69_Vp2pT_U9W3yMn8pz9E_xmSYlNMfii1JAqn_oei6TY1aR8K-g91Yj6ojSJ8syCtdMo/s320/RIMG2084.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A LOT of boats.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It's raced over 21.6 miles, up river on the Thames on the flood tide, from Millwall dock in London Docklands to Ham, passing under 26 (I think, I certainly wasn't counting) bridges en route, as well as a full Baedecker of iconic landmarks – Tower Bridge, the Shard, St Paul's Cathedral, Cleopatra's Needle, the Millennium Wheel, the Houses of Parliament, Union Jack tat sellers on Westminster Bridge, the Boat Race course, the Pink Lodge. Of course, you may not have time to take these sights in, as your eyes are pretty much permanently glued to stroke's blade, apart from the bits when you're frantically looking round at your own blade to avoid hitting another craft whilst executing the boaty equivalent of a manoeuvre that I gather polo players call "riding off".<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnBtvGNTVg98QuivpGKqxB_ONT3bz7bSXfej8rAo3oHqgBy6Agck8Y32uR0wAu3_wG-_O02gr2wavHcEzQXKFCU-RVw38_TI-I4p-EZFJWXqgMYRHVpdloBoekbUiTGtscQ2ZIKwYeX6s/s1600/RIMG2088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnBtvGNTVg98QuivpGKqxB_ONT3bz7bSXfej8rAo3oHqgBy6Agck8Y32uR0wAu3_wG-_O02gr2wavHcEzQXKFCU-RVw38_TI-I4p-EZFJWXqgMYRHVpdloBoekbUiTGtscQ2ZIKwYeX6s/s320/RIMG2088.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These Dutch rowers may have regretted their choice <br />
of headgear when practically the whole race <br />
turned out to be into a screaming headwind.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Well over 300 boats take part these days, representing what seems like almost as many boat classes, with loads of Dutch and Irish crews coming over as well as a positive armada of Cornish pilot gigs.<br />
<br />
I'd only taken part once before – in 1999 – and had quite forgotten quite what a wonderful experience it is. Here are only the 12 most salient reasons why:<br />
<ol>
<li>You have just never seen so many different types of rowing boat. </li>
<li>Flying a flag is COMPULSORY.</li>
<li>In the "Historic ships" class, additional points can be scored for "authenticity and turnout of boat and crew".</li>
<li>It is MONSTER choppy off the start. Really good fun. So long a you're in a boat with substantial freeboard (our cutter was ideal but I heard later that the dragon boats were seriously worried about sinking).</li>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<li>My winner for the dressing up category was the "British Oarways" crew who managed to row whilst apparently dressed in pilot's or cabin crew outfits, with a "tailfin" flag on the stern.</li>
<li>A close second was the crew of cows, with painted faces, </li>
<li>There's a type of Irish boat which is rowed with "blades" that don't have spoons. They rate ferociously high and go impressively fast.</li>
<li>GDBC (if you've watched <i>True Blue</i> you'll know what this stands for, otherwise I'm not saying as my dad reads this) had to have a bigger flag that everyone else in their 1829 replica boat Cam.</li>
<li>Lots of crews decorate their boats or people with flower garlands. Including male people.</li>
<li>There are more spectators than you get at the major eights heads.</li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXQtFwMj9ndQIaeP1s-kgcC5Bq56aUJ50wn8M5lawa8B0wOU-VKRhBXcMLXv01pejjnUDjZ1f8KI5KIPTVx9vG9Eb2zhlrB3HNIn8mV1N-OJ31b-rj1IumyJz3nDVVWS4mkYDxdDBC8s4/s1600/RIMG2104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXQtFwMj9ndQIaeP1s-kgcC5Bq56aUJ50wn8M5lawa8B0wOU-VKRhBXcMLXv01pejjnUDjZ1f8KI5KIPTVx9vG9Eb2zhlrB3HNIn8mV1N-OJ31b-rj1IumyJz3nDVVWS4mkYDxdDBC8s4/s320/RIMG2104.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Sixteen hundred and sixty six: <br />
the fire burned out for lack of sticks"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<li>This year, we rowed past that wooden model of medieval London which was then floated down the river and burned that evening to commemorate the 350th anniversary of the Great Fire. It was HUGE.</li>
<li>Boats are set off in reverse speed order with a handicapping system so the overall winner is the first one to reach the finish, making it more exciting than your average head race. This also means that if you're in a fast boat class (like the Thames Watermen's Cutter I was in, having become an honorary member of the Worshipful Company of Scientific Instrument Makers for the day), you should be able to guarantee overtaking fun all the way up the course.</li>
</ol>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR2lzBQL1DjerBZTqVP6LUQhU7HdfNioytnze1wb613ZQ7HH2J9pdP7jIc1RpcnT-k-CfrYueq_Uf9xzFWuc2Nv1OcrSWncHRa1WEt7OyhAjhWL-crhxmMRyFFvDRuLmLEK643q1lPpS0/s1600/RIMG2116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR2lzBQL1DjerBZTqVP6LUQhU7HdfNioytnze1wb613ZQ7HH2J9pdP7jIc1RpcnT-k-CfrYueq_Uf9xzFWuc2Nv1OcrSWncHRa1WEt7OyhAjhWL-crhxmMRyFFvDRuLmLEK643q1lPpS0/s320/RIMG2116.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cows: presumably the one in a life jacket is a heifer as "milk floats"</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizLtLb9CW8LNp5AdbBmiw1h3IxDpT9scysJlMmt0rUHJXIMaEXPNm9_3ePrJrAGjcoic8YsgixVUYlJM1KHpgfM_gEGAXzggagjjJtVKVSaAXRYOABHGx8fQaOnWuCpDmPuQoHTK61bwY/s1600/RIMG2114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizLtLb9CW8LNp5AdbBmiw1h3IxDpT9scysJlMmt0rUHJXIMaEXPNm9_3ePrJrAGjcoic8YsgixVUYlJM1KHpgfM_gEGAXzggagjjJtVKVSaAXRYOABHGx8fQaOnWuCpDmPuQoHTK61bwY/s320/RIMG2114.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A design that needs no bailing: this extraordinary craft is apparently made from old cooking oil cans.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXN5hsMpesZwKFFdOM8ZgV_9egJBr_Gs3dMJ-iCBmY8YLTc2efjcAd3_U3NxDVKLpHryIdhNzQSut4j6av7sfnGV8eBc1f_tPPpDXyCR3isWkZkSFFRkLmaFFbiMCziPpcoEP6A7WvWgk/s1600/RIMG2097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXN5hsMpesZwKFFdOM8ZgV_9egJBr_Gs3dMJ-iCBmY8YLTc2efjcAd3_U3NxDVKLpHryIdhNzQSut4j6av7sfnGV8eBc1f_tPPpDXyCR3isWkZkSFFRkLmaFFbiMCziPpcoEP6A7WvWgk/s320/RIMG2097.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Roman. Obvs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-60940542300000780012016-06-11T09:00:00.000+01:002016-09-04T16:34:24.164+01:00On and on and on: How we set a new 24 hour distance rowing Guinness World Record<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDEO6exWwvev-aOBFQBXndIjtgAkdX_Hb4C57BR-Fjg9zrWWFBWTK5SUrbr_cgrvBnLt9WRIckb-xH9TN-DDI8J4sAgOodGPrsRvjlToeTjADQCYN4qaXTDvRzAGu4sbJfVgXEi_4o-VY/s1600/RIMG2121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDEO6exWwvev-aOBFQBXndIjtgAkdX_Hb4C57BR-Fjg9zrWWFBWTK5SUrbr_cgrvBnLt9WRIckb-xH9TN-DDI8J4sAgOodGPrsRvjlToeTjADQCYN4qaXTDvRzAGu4sbJfVgXEi_4o-VY/s200/RIMG2121.JPG" width="150" /></a>I have no idea whether Sir Edmund Hillary thought "I HAVE to do that," when he first realised that Mount Everest had yet to be climbed, or even what went through astronaut Tim Peake's mind when he saw an ad for "International Space Station Crew Member" in "Out of This World Jobs Weekly" (yes, I'm making that up, but you get the idea). But I do remember gasping in delight when, over a year ago, whilst browsing the <a href="http://www.guinnessworldrecords.com/" target="_blank">Guinness World Records</a> site, I spotted that there was an existing record for the greatest distance rowed in 24 hours by a women's team. And, more to the point, at 229km it was eminently breakable.<br />
<br />
It just HAD to be done.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>If you feel I'm pushing it by comparing a full day's rowing with being the first person to dice with death on a dangerous mountain at extreme altitude, or being blasted off the planet, I'll completely understand. Clearly, a lengthy row on the Thames is not in the slightest in this league. But I hope you'll humour me as the girl who was always (quite reasonably) picked last for any sporting activity at school, and who is still has a double novice in British Rowing classifications, which made the very idea of of making an attempt on a sporting Guinness World Record as significant a thing as it was irresistible.<br />
<br />
But back to the point: what does it take to break an endurance rowing world record? Well, the short answer is, "a lot more stuff than just the rowing".<br />
<br />
<b>First, find your (on-water) team</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggZ_zl6iYpB3GDUv35An_XVWXJufKNyEEcstqe_cx6R7IW8SzfRhiKkCg_NBZrdnZrrgiwK2WnxgsfKCscTSP3MtWs2GmOHhkOjjHgHDLISbnZUcxVrL9y6q8ivqnJKGwfzOculyBYe_c/s1600/Photo+11-06-2016%252C+07+11+29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggZ_zl6iYpB3GDUv35An_XVWXJufKNyEEcstqe_cx6R7IW8SzfRhiKkCg_NBZrdnZrrgiwK2WnxgsfKCscTSP3MtWs2GmOHhkOjjHgHDLISbnZUcxVrL9y6q8ivqnJKGwfzOculyBYe_c/s320/Photo+11-06-2016%252C+07+11+29.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
I am, of course, a big fan of long-distance rowing (you get all the sense of achievement without the lung burning of sprint racing, and I include head races in that). And over the years, I've built up quite a lot of experience at it. But I'm well aware that my real talent in this area is not the actual rowing, but in persuading other, much better rowers, to join me.<br />
<br />
It didn't prove particularly hard. I started with Hannah, who is the only woman to have rowed round Lake Geneva (in a crew) more times than me and, even better, is 15 years younger than I am, does Ironman Triathlons, and loves to have other people organise sporting challenges where she "just" has to turn up and do the grinding. We make a good team. Her immediate response was "Let's do it!". With her on board, the whole thing became much easier to sell to others.<br />
<br />
My next stop was Sandra, whose only drawback as a partner for crazy events is that she will only ever do each one once. But this was a new one, so that was OK. Carol then seized the whole idea as I had, followed by Sarah and Naomi who, as former Lightweight World Champions had the best track records for rowing but also for hitherto refusing all my invitations to join my expedition rowing escapades. This time, though, even they couldn't resist.<br />
<br />
With the six members of the rowing team that the rules allowed in place, we all swore each other to secrecy in case another group of better rowers got wind of the idea and beat us to it, both in timing and distance. This may actually have been totally unnecessary as no one we've spoken to since the row has shown any interest in even contemplating it. Although I suppose it's possible they they have and are being as secretive as we were!<br />
<br />
<b>Second, decide on boat size</b><br />
To be honest, we never really considered doing it in anything other than a quad, which is the fastest boat class that doesn't require the whole team to be in it at once (so that some people could always be resting), but have since discovered that the equivalent men's record, set by a team of Hungarians in 2013, was done in a double as they'd worked out that the "sprint but get double rest" strategy this permits is actually more efficient. We'll bear that in mind in the ghastly eventuality that there has to be a "next time".<br />
<br />
<b>Third, set the date</b><br />
The date more or less set itself. It made sense to start at about 9am on a Friday to minimise time off work but also avoid weekend river traffic, and also to do it during school term (as the river is busier with cruiser traffic in the holidays) but as close to the longest day as possible. By the time various people's pre-booked holidays and commitments as volunteers at Henley Women's Regatta were factored in, there was only one option.<br />
<br />
<b>Fourth: Where to do it</b><br />
Debate about this raged for at least two emails. Hannah was quite keen on the idea of the long, straight stretches of little-used river from her former club in Boston, Lincolnshire. But this was outvoted in favour of the Kingston stretch of the Thames on the grounds that there's a lot of ambient light at night in Kingston, five of us lived close to it, and two of the team had done GB trials in Boston and never, ever wanted to go back there.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oORwMsLxtO_SxeLtHZ8AXmB1j3neSSxrFZrIVqA7eOybqktEowmSdgRqz88pDvD5VKQFJWvXbUpfQYPjdD7BIQb4SCLrTB4UkINriSqYdEnR-P3ShwflkJQNcqB66_3lVWzenN8GlVA/s1600/route+-+final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="377" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oORwMsLxtO_SxeLtHZ8AXmB1j3neSSxrFZrIVqA7eOybqktEowmSdgRqz88pDvD5VKQFJWvXbUpfQYPjdD7BIQb4SCLrTB4UkINriSqYdEnR-P3ShwflkJQNcqB66_3lVWzenN8GlVA/s640/route+-+final.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The route: we did the round trip 24 times.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our distance would be calculated as complete lengths of a measured distance between two landmarks. Choosing the course required a careful balance between not having landmarks so close together that an excessive amount of time was spent turning round, but also not having them so far apart that there was a risk of a final, partial length not being counted. As the attempt was on a river, we also had to ensure that at least half of our lengths were upstream, which meant that we needed to start at the downstream end of the length, so that if there was only time at the end to get a single length of the round trip in, it would be an upstream one and therefore we would have done n downstream lengths and n+1 upstream.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltCfZc5iU0K3Bl87ysK1-cT4pFbKPDWnsYrFCWXWdNi2CPDTQAjgX-rjKTwKwVNTccbqqZ8RqLiQ0zXzoGuuXNGj6OKynAvZU2SM5S1qGiB21phgFtPeKVHtgdnWcNJ9Yl4if2cY0Tto/s1600/RIMG1412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltCfZc5iU0K3Bl87ysK1-cT4pFbKPDWnsYrFCWXWdNi2CPDTQAjgX-rjKTwKwVNTccbqqZ8RqLiQ0zXzoGuuXNGj6OKynAvZU2SM5S1qGiB21phgFtPeKVHtgdnWcNJ9Yl4if2cY0Tto/s320/RIMG1412.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">Kingston RC, an incredibly helpful club</td></tr>
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<b></b><br />
Taking all of this into account, Kingston RC was the perfect base. But although four of us had been members of Kingston RC in the early 1990s, none of us currently were, so the club had no reason to help us. However, Danny the captain grasped what we were trying to achieve wholeheartedly, and after agreement from the committee, generously offered use of a boat (which was expertly refurbished for us by Nick, the club's rowing manager), the boathouse, and launches for the independent witnesses.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Fifth, find the rest of the team</b><br />
Simply rowing more than 229km was never going to be enough, of course. It also had to be SEEN to be done. Specifically, by what Guinness calls <b>independent witnesses</b>. It took me a fair while to establish a precise definition of what these crucial people were but it was eventually established that they needed to be knowledgeable about rowing but is not a member of any of our clubs, related to any of us, or to any of the other witnesses.This did narrow the field of candidates quite a bit.<br />
<br />
They also obviously had to live within kicking distance of Kingston and be free on a Friday or prepared to spend three hours watching us paddle up and down the river, some of them in the middle of the night. We were now in shortlist territory.<br />
<br />
Oh, and then I realised that the witnesses had to have us in sight <i>at all times </i>which meant using a pair of <b>coaching launches </b>in relay (no outboard engine is going to run continuously for 24 hours), and that half of the witnesses therefore needed to be qualified launch drivers. As we also needed 16 of them so that they could do 3-hour shifts (safely inside Guinness's 4-hour shift limit), the list of even potential candidates was perilously close to the required 16, and it's a tribute to the generosity of the rowing community that we secured these volunteers, with only a limited amount of arm-twisting and favour-bargaining.<br />
<br />
We were supported on the day by a <b>land team </b>of five (who <i>could</i><b style="font-style: italic;"> </b>be related to us and almost entirely were) who worked in shifts, briefing each new pair of witnesses as they turned up, training them on how to use the launch and video cameras, ensuring they completed the right <b>log books </b>when they finished their shift, refilling the petrol tanks, and preparing food and hot drinks for rowing crew members coming off shift so that these were at an instantly-consumable temperature to give maximum digestion time in each c.1 hour's rest period.<br />
<br />
<b>Other logistics</b><br />
As with projects of all kinds, it's easy to describe the various elements of the campaign that we put in place, but arriving at these solutions was often far from straightforward.<br />
<br />
One challenge was finding <b>24-hour stopwatches</b>, as most only run for 12 hours. And another was finding a suitable <b>GPS tracker </b>to hire (thanks <a href="http://ybtracking.com/">ybtracking.com</a>).<br />
<br />
One absolutely critical piece of the jigsaw was the accurate <b>measurement </b>of the shortest rowable distance on the route between Steven’s Eyot and Hampton Court Bridge, which was kindly provided by GWP Consultants LLP, with essential assistance from a retired friend who spent the morning guarding the surveyor's highly valuable base station on the bank whilst he and I slowly moved up and down the river taking multiple positions from a launch (thanks KGSBC).<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<b>The row itself</b><br />
Despite 10 months of planning, my biggest worry come the day itself was whether I'd failed to set something up administratively:the right (multiple) forms, the right codes for wifi, changing rooms, petrol stores, the right people at the right time, camera batteries that would last long enough, sufficiently clear and comprehensive instructions for the witnesses who needed to film at least two minutes every hour and also capture numerous salient moments.<br />
<br />
But I was entirely confident we could row the distance provide nothing and nobody broke.<br />
<br />
The first couple of shifts passed quickly. During one, a couple of crew members had a long discussion about an issue related to both of their jobs, which was as usefully distracting as listening to Radio 4. Less successful in taking our minds off it was the opener, "So, Brexit?" (this was just before the election), which got three conversation-stopping responses of "Nope."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBarz_WSUMCHyLzgyaoojeToSLG9uRxBOGSiOio_KN-k7wRIZyCS_Uml5zyGzf2loEOkqc54kuc1yAG2IsZQI44fCWh9gU9Pk8OEL3aC_MlyPqIAChDbM0nelBljZz2MWA-DwHe2pZsa8/s1600/RIMG1527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBarz_WSUMCHyLzgyaoojeToSLG9uRxBOGSiOio_KN-k7wRIZyCS_Uml5zyGzf2loEOkqc54kuc1yAG2IsZQI44fCWh9gU9Pk8OEL3aC_MlyPqIAChDbM0nelBljZz2MWA-DwHe2pZsa8/s320/RIMG1527.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only rowing team members helped at the change overs <br />
so we couldn't be accused of allowing anyone else <br />
to "propel" the boat even for a few centimetres</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The low point for all of us came around four o'clock in the afternoon, by which time each of us had completed three 2-hour rows which, when you think about is more than normal, but we hadn't even reached the half-way point. The weather was wonderfully calm, but it was also quite warm, and so we were all a bit dehydrated. However, demonstrating the essential long-distance rowing skill of “shut up and row”, none of us mentioned it to the others at the time, and after that it didn’t get much worse.<br />
<br />
For the entire attempt, we all greatly enjoyed the heavy fragrance of the gorse bushes covering a couple of hundred metres of bank downstream of Thames Ditton marina, but were disappointed that we couldn't hear anything of the Jools Holland concert that was on at Hampton Court that night.<br />
<br />
Hitting one of our rest hours some time around midnight, Sarah, my rowing partner, commented "I don't really know what to eat now as I've eaten all the meals and snacks I would ever have in one day", which was a fair point. I think my solution involved crisps.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-HagenOuAZtjtlemdci5FeoA7ca8mahh3_FKAQupd20fYlAaMBgs9fxMZImnpmx-VF28ruhK7eafyDlSZFbXYrfRBxGtdTV8T0wVzD2hw8FrtlzLfAdx4CDpS4DcKVDs8raVsGkep2o/s1600/RIMG1522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-HagenOuAZtjtlemdci5FeoA7ca8mahh3_FKAQupd20fYlAaMBgs9fxMZImnpmx-VF28ruhK7eafyDlSZFbXYrfRBxGtdTV8T0wVzD2hw8FrtlzLfAdx4CDpS4DcKVDs8raVsGkep2o/s320/RIMG1522.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fantastic flat water at around 6.30am.<br />
Note lack of sleeping wildfowl.</td></tr>
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And if you've ever wondered where ducks and swans go to sleep, we can't help you, but we can say that they don't go to sleep on the water. Lacking, as we clearly were, in any knowledge of ornithological behaviour, we'd vaguely imagined that they might just tuck their heads under their wings whilst afloat, and would be scattered across the river like a load of footballs. Given our steers' middle-of-the-night courses straight up and down the middle of the river to avoid all those stealth sticking-out-trees, it's probably a good thing that they weren't.<br />
<br />
And talking of steers, for various reasons (including the fact that I can't foot-steer) Carol and I were lucky enough to enjoy the whole ride in the middle of the boat, whilst Hannah and Sandra did the stroking and Sarah, Sandra and Naomi did the steering. To avoid wasting time adjusting foot stretchers, we didn't, which meant that I spent half my time rowing with my feet too far away from me but hey, the bruises on my ribs had disappeared by a week later,<br />
<br />
<b>Breaking the record</b><br />
This occurred shortly after 5am when we reached Hampton Court Bridge for the 21st time.<br />
<br />
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As agreed prior to the row, we then carried on for the rest of the time available, completing another 5 lengths of the stretch, which took our total to 273.95km (to save you from the mental arithmetic, that's over 44km more than the old record) with about 12 minutes to spare (thankfully, not enough time to even contemplate trying to squeeze in another length).<br />
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<br />
<b>List of helpers</b><br />
We are massively grateful to the sixteen wonderful souls who were the independent witnesses, especially to Paul who stepped in literally on the day to do the midnight-3am shift after another witness suffered a sudden family bereavement. On going through the video clips later, we were amused to find one that was taken mid-afternoon, in which one witness is heard to comment, "It's hot out here, isn't it?" to which the other replied, "Yeah, the witnesses are really suffering!"<br />
<br />
Altogether it took the direct involvement of 30 people to break this record. So, THANK YOU to witnesses Pauline, Sue, Richard, Tim, Bill, Liz, Noel, Chris, Ali, David, Paul, John, Martin, Andrew, Geraint and Ed. Plus land team Rachel, Richard, Rachel (another one), Jeeves, and Tricky, Chantal the sports masseuse, Rhys the surveyor, KRC Captain Danny and the KRC committee for letting us use the club, KRC Rowing Manager Nick for refurbishing and rigging the boat, and all the KRC crews that got out of our way on the Saturday morning. And to George, Richard (another one), Brad, Anne, Alex, Duncan, the old lags from KRC, and others for cheering us on.<br />
<br />
We really couldn't have done it without you.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUYSE7DQ6ol_qIRNWFWUwlCQvnG4DmHSMYeDKoherBroS2ME7Xq_rbbCtUK9O638fBwQOLI0LIxp5ifOvdu2PXCCehoDVOgW75TDg7Yyygty_645GJ7TFYntkcbYAdSWQ4Zw7H-0upcQ/s1600/24-hour-team-afterwards.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUYSE7DQ6ol_qIRNWFWUwlCQvnG4DmHSMYeDKoherBroS2ME7Xq_rbbCtUK9O638fBwQOLI0LIxp5ifOvdu2PXCCehoDVOgW75TDg7Yyygty_645GJ7TFYntkcbYAdSWQ4Zw7H-0upcQ/s320/24-hour-team-afterwards.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Not bad for a novice"<br />
L-R: An empty bottle of champagne, Carol, Naomi, Helena, Sarah, Sandra and Hannah</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "massive crowds" cheering us on at the end<br />
(the two crew members not in the boat at that point plus George, aged 3)</td></tr>
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<b>We are "officially amazing" (blush)</b><br />
After waiting with a certain amount of angst (had I got all of the documentation right), some weeks later I got the nervously-awaited email announcing, "We are thrilled to inform you that your application for 'Greatest distance rowed by a female team in 24 hours' has been successful and you are now the Guinness World Records Title Holder!" Woo! and also Hoo! Here's the rather nice certificate that arrived soon after. The record can be viewed on the <a href="http://www.guinnessworldrecords.com/world-records/rowing-(team-women)-distance-in-24-hours" target="_blank">Guinness website</a>.<br />
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Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-15979978071148587602016-05-28T10:25:00.000+01:002020-04-28T11:11:05.594+01:00If Disney did rivers: skiffing the Severn and Avon: <div class="MsoNormal">
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If Disney were setting out to create the perfect river, they would surely use the Severn and its dainty sister the Avon, as a model.<br />
<br />
On a two-day skiff tour there, we found exquisitely pretty river banks lined with cow parsley and some kind of yellow flower (I’m a rower not a botanist, OK), quintessentially English church towers and fields of unicorns. Frankly, it’s amazing we weren’t surrounded by rainbow bubbles… oh, wait, we were…<br />
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<b>About those unicorns</b><br />
You’d probably like this one cleared up before we start, which is fair enough. Well, the thing about being immersed in a perfect land complete with little butterflies, is that you start expecting magic wherever you look. So when we saw some ivory-cream horses in a flower meadow, gently tossing their flowing manes, and snorting rainbows from their nostrils (we may just have had too many sugary snacks at that point), the mere detail that they didn’t have any horns didn’t seem to matter. <br />
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<b>Route: </b>Worcester to Pershore (Day 1), then on to Stratford upon Avon (Day 2)<br />
<b>Distance: </b>About 30 miles each day.<br />
<b>Locks: </b>17 (4 on Day 1 and 13 on Day 2).<br />
<b>Diamond-shaped locks: </b>1 (Wyre Lock. We have no idea why: it made a change, but took longer to fill because of the greater volume, and mooring a long narrow boat in it might have been interesting.)<br />
<hr />
<br />
I have say that the relentless charm of the Severn and Avon can become almost too much of a good thing after a couple of days. I don't know about you, but if I were in a chocolate factory, I'd start wishing for a pickled onion after a while, and after the umpteenth mile of confectionery-style countryside, even a hint of brutalism might give you some contrast to help you you appreciate it all the better.<br />
<br />
And the samey-ness makes it a bit like being plonked in a Monet for the weekend: it's lovely, but nothing HAPPENS.<br />
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That said, I thoroughly recommend the Severn and Avon as a rowing tour destination, and if you go and do it, and here are some top tips and fab facts to help you live happily ever after.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Impressive red cliffs at Cliffey Wood <br />
(stating-the-obvious names have apparently been around <br />
since long before the “Boaty McBoatface” episode)</td></tr>
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<li>For the Severn, you need to buy a Canal & River Trust license from their website in advance (it allegedly costs more if you buy them at a lock).</li>
<li>Don’t bother to buy the key that lets you into their “sanitary stations” as there aren’t any at the only lock you go through on this route.</li>
<li>There are hardly any cruisers or narrow boats on the Severn, especially when compared with the Thames.</li>
<li>However, those cruisers that there are often go too fast and cut their speed too late (in our experience, and according to a nice, chatty coach at Upton Rowing Club).</li>
<li>There are lots of static caravan parks on both the Severn and Avon.</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me (in green) demonstrating the usefulness of a <br />
boat hook in the inexplicably <br />
diamond-shaped Wyre Lock.</td></tr>
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<ul>
<li>Take a boat hook.</li>
<li>Avon Lock (where you pass from the Severn to the Avon) is shut from 12.45pm to 2pm, and you can't self-operate.</li>
<li>You can buy licenses there. </li>
<li>And bubbles.</li>
<li>The static caravans mostly have balconies.</li>
<li>Just before you turn off the Severn onto the Avon at Tewkesbury you go under Mythe Bridge which has a notable lattice structure and we thought was rather fine. Reading the guidebook later (which unfortunately arrived through the post a few hours AFTER we set off), it turns out we must be bridge connoisseurs as it's one of Thomas Telford's.</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As one lock keeper put it very accurately, <br />
"Hang on tight, it's a rough ride."</td></tr>
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<li>The sluices on most Avon locks are in the gate and visible when the lock is empty, so you get great fountains of water coming out of them as the lock starts to fill. So don't have your bows too close to the upstream end of the lock! </li>
<li>Take ropes. Most locks don't have chains.</li>
<li>You pass through the village of Wyre Piddle on the Avon. Snigger.</li>
<li>Almost every village has a highly picturesque church with a square tower.</li>
<li>Some of the static caravan balconies have glass panels, not quite of the design standards of the Huf Hausen on the Thames, but you can't fault them for their aspirations.</li>
<li>If you go at the end of May, as we did, there are hawthorn bushes laden with pink and white blossom all over the place.</li>
<li>And swans carrying their grey, fuzzy cygnets between their wings.</li>
<li>And lambs whose little black ears bounce up and down like Shaun the Sheep's as they gambol about.</li>
<li>Incredibly, there were no bluebirds flying overhead.</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching Bidford bridge. Charming but challenging.</td></tr>
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<ul>
<li>Bidford-on-Avon bridge has quite a lot of aches, which are a bit like those children's toys
where you have to put things through the same shaped-hole as they're all different shapes and sizes. </li>
<li>Don't get excited about trying to decide which arch your boat might best fit through, though, as only the one on the extreme right (as you're going upstream) is actually navigable, and it's so narrow you have to pull your blades right in to shoot it, and even after approaching at firm, and gunwaling blades at the last possible moment (rather skillfully I thought, though I sez it myself) we ground to a halt getting through going upstream because the stream all funnels that way. You are warned!</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flood-proof lock keeper's hut. </td></tr>
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<li>The lock-keeper's hut at George Billington Lock is apparently flood-proof, which explains why it looks like it's been pinched from the top of a lighthouse.</li>
<li>If all the static caravans we passed were occupied to capacity, I imagine Birmingham would be virtually deserted.</li>
<li>Incidentally, the yellow riverbank flowers that were hanging out with the cow parsley were probably Wild Charlock aka Field Mustard.</li>
</ul>
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<br />
<br /></div>
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<b>And finally, those rainbow bubbles...</b><br />
I've been rowing for nearly 30 years, but I can safely say I've never been involved in rowing-generated bubble creation. Could this start a trend?<br />
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Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-56194486567922951312016-05-11T20:35:00.002+01:002018-07-30T21:03:42.720+01:00When women first rowed at the Olympics<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"What year was that?", you may ask. Was it back in 1948 when women first competed in canoe racing over 500m? No. Maybe in the 1960s then – after all, Valentina Tereshkova became the first woman in space in 1963? Wrong again.<br />
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Astoundingly, it was only in 1976, at the same time as the incredible gymnast Nadia Comaneci was achieving levels of perfection that had hitherto been thought impossible (and awakening my interest in the Olympics on a black and white TV), that women rowers took part in the Olympics for the first time. And they didn't even get to race the full distance.<br />
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Three members of that first British women's Olympic rowing team talked to me about their experiences, and revealed a story of determination against the odds, sprinkled with events that, 40 years later, appear sometimes funny, often farcical, and always head-shakingly extraordinary when compared with the consummate professionalism of GB rowing today.<br />
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<b>But first, the first Worlds </b><br />
For 16-year old Pauline Bird (now Peel), the path to the 1976 Montreal Olympics began in late 1973 when her club, Weybridge Ladies Amateur Rowing Club, received a letter from Penny Chuter, the Amateur Rowing Association's first, paid national coach with responsibility for women's rowing, announcing the trials for the first British women's rowing team which would aim to compete at the 1974 World Championships in Lucerne, the first to include women's racing. As young Pauline had won the club's sculling championship, she felt she was up to entering.<br />
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She was right. She made the team, but over 40 years later, still remembers her quad coming last in the repechage, some 17 seconds behind the next crew. Eliminated from further racing, while the rest of the crew set off to do some tourism, Pauline had to spend the rest of the regatta at the course as she was under 18 at the time, and therefore had to stick with her chaperone who was there. She made the most of this by spending her time watching what she realised were "the best women rowers in the world" as they raced the semis and finals, learning from their technique, their warm up and warm down routines, and how they conducted themselves.<br />
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<b>Ridiculous rigging</b><br />
I mentioned that Pauline was in the quad. A COXED quad, that is. Yes, if you're astonished that women only raced at the Worlds from 1974, and at the Olympics from 1976, here is an even more incredible fact: it was only at the World Championships in 1985 and the Olympics in 1988 that women raced in coxless quads. Until then, the powers that were "decided" that they lacked the skills to do so.<br />
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But back to the 1974 World Championships where the first British women's rowing team comprised three boats: a coxed quad, a pair and a coxed four.<br />
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But when I say boats, I mean crews, because the quad had to boat share with the four. Yes, you did read that right. One crew would race, get the boat off the water, the other crew would rerig it in a hurry, race, then it would be put back again to the first rig for the repechage, and so on. Oh, and to get the span wide enough for the quad, they had to pack the bolts out with wooden blocks. I mean, can you imagine if our fabulous women's double and pair had had to share a boat like this at London 2012? No, neither can I, and rightly not.<br />
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<b>Ladies loos and the 100m dash</b><br />
The women's squad did seat racing and training camps in Nottingham, the only multilane rowing lake in the UK at the time, but most of their routine training was done out of the Amateur Rowing Association (now British Rowing) premises in Hammersmith. Which was all very well, except that there was no women's changing room in the building at the time. Beryl Mitchell (now Crockford) recalls that they had to take turns squeezing into the "rigger room" to change, and then run to the park 100m away to use the public loos.<br />
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For several of them, the hardships was a challenge to be relished. Beryl says she blinkered herself to the negatives, while <a href="https://rowingstory.com/people/gill-parker/" target="_blank">Gill Webb</a> (now Parker) talks of how she loved the cameraderie that comes from getting stuck in to hard training as a group.<br />
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<b>Funding, and why it didn't pay to be vegetarian</b><br />
Full funding of athletes was still a very long way off in those days, and all members of the squad had jobs or were students. In the year running up to the Montreal Olympics, Pauline worked at the Hammersmith branch of Midland Bank, where the manager was a former high-level squash player. One morning he caught her falling asleep at her desk. When she explained that this was because she had done an early morning training session, he immediately told her only come in at 10am if she was training first thing, so that she could have a nap first. I wonder if this enlightened and supportive man followed her career and saw the fruits of his "there's more to life than work" management style?<br />
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But although this kind of practical support was obviously helpful, as were the weekly meat vouchers donated by Dewhurst the butchers, financial backing was desperately needed too. Unfortunately, an approach from the London Rubber Company, which was interested in raising its profile with the female market by sponsoring the new women's rowing squad, was turned down by Penny Chuter for being "improper". She had a point, perhaps: its main product line sold under the brand name Durex.<br />
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<b>Equipment: two ways to stretch that (non-existent) budget</b><br />
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As the 1976 season began, the women's coxed four had become too strong for the boat they had been using, and had pulled several of the rigger bolts through the shoulders, so moved into a Karlisch that was possibly bought from Carmel College.<br />
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It had wooden "canvases" and was therefore heavy but, according to Gill ran nicely if enough effort was applied. Pauline explains that the boat was named "Supernova" by the Matthew Arnold Secondary School for Girls in Staines, whom Penny Chuter had asked to name it as part of her initiatives to get more young women interested in rowing.<br />
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Buying boats second-hand like this was one way of dealing with the lack of funds. Another was to be guinea pigs for experimental designs. After decades when boat and blade making had hardly changed, equipment makers were beginning to explore the possibilities afforded by new materials, in particular carbon fibre, and oar maker Jerry Sutton, developed a new type of composite blade which had carbon fibre reinforced wooden shafts which allowed the blades to be lighter for the same strength.<br />
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For some reason the shafts were painted black: Pauline isn't sure why, though she thinks it was just because they looked "cool". However, "cool" was exactly what they turned out not to be in the heat of a Canadian summer, and two of the coxed four's blades twisted during the pre-Olympics training camp at St Catherine's as the black shafts soaked up the sun, and replacements had to be hurriedly sent out.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GB W4+ at Montreal: <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Gill Webb is in the white cap, </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Pauline Bird is on the right,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">and coach Penny Chuter is at the back in blue.</span><br />
Photo taken by Mike Spracklen.</td></tr>
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<b>And so the results</b><br />
The 1976 Olympic Regatta was totally dominated by the Eastern bloc countries which won 15 of the 18 medals available for women's rowing (West Germany got a bronze, and the USA a silver and a bronze). East Germany was particularly successful, winning six medals, four of them gold plus two silvers. The USSR won five medals: two silvers and three bronzes.<br />
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Beryl's pair came 10th out of 11 crews, whilst Gill's and Pauline's coxed four was eighth out of eight, although Pauline points out that the French and West German fours weren't entered for the Olympics after the GB crew had beaten them at Lucerne some weeks earlier.<br />
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<b>Why the Easties were better</b></div>
I asked all three women what they had felt at the time were the reasons for the Easties' dominance. They agreed that the main factors were full tine training and, of course, drugs. As Pauline puts it "a lot of those women had very deep voices", while Gill explains that even if they were clean at the games (drug testing only happened at competitions at that time), they had the benefit of training on steroids. And, of course, that patronising decision to limit women's racing to just 1,000m (even much later, some men continued to express the view that women would damage their reproductive organs if they raced further than this) played perfectly into the hands of anyone on strength-enhancing drugs.<br />
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But there was more to it than that: Beryl cites "attitudes" as holding the GB women back, adding that "in many cases the women were worse than the men", because many women felt it wasn't feminine to train hard. Even those in charge of the team had low expectations of the crews, and Pauline felt that some treated making it to Montreal as all that mattered. In contrast, many communist countries actively promoted women's sport to support their political ideologies.<br />
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Both Gill and Pauline were also aware that the Eastern bloc coaches had qualifications in sports science, nutrition, and sports psychology and used these effectively in training their crews.<br />
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Altogether it was just a totally different approach, admittedly facilitated by being full time, but still hugely more focused, with a much greater determination to prove they were the best, and thoroughly professional in every sense of the word.<br />
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<b>Other memories of 1976: guns, Princess Anne and sex-testing </b><br />
The Montreal Olympics were the next games after the terrible hostage-taking and murder of eleven Israeli by Palestinian terrorists at the Munich Olympics in 1972, so there was an unprecedented level of security. Gill and Pauline have strong memories of there being guards armed with machine guns on the coach they took from the Olympic Village to the rowing course.<br />
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HRH is on the left.</td></tr>
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There may have been less obvious security arrangements too. The GB women's team's outfits for opening ceremony included wide-brimmed hats. Whilst this was certainly a fashion at the time, Pauline always wondered whether the design was chosen so that snipers wouldn't be able to identify Princess Anne (who was competing in the equestrian three-day eventing).<br />
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All the team members were given positions for marching into the stadium for the ceremony: Beryl's happened to be next to Princess Anne, but she swapped places with Pauline who, aged 18, was the youngest member of the rowing team, and discretely admits that she had a "nice chat" with Her Royal Highness.<br />
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At Montreal, women had to take DNA gender tests or "femininity control", as it was officially described, as they had for several previous Games. Whilst the process was relatively discrete and dignified, involving just a cheek swab, a negative result would have been humiliating, and Pauline remembers being quite worried about it as there was just enough medical awareness of intersex conditions at the time for people to know that visually appearing to be a woman didn't mean you'd pass the test. Princess Anne, incidentally, wasn't sex tested as it was felt this would be inappropriate for a member of the Royal Family although it wasn't necessary anyway as equestrianism is the one Olympic sport where gender is irrelevant.<br />
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<b>What not to wear (a kit farce)</b><br />
The standard kit for all GB athletes, not just rowers, for many years was a white vest with red, white, and blue stripes round the chest, with the red stripe at the top, and the blue one at the bottom.<br />
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The rowers were issued with bri-nylon singlets which, innovatively, had the stripes printed on rather than sewn in. However, not only was the nylon too uncomfortable to row in, according to Beryl, but the red and the blue had been printed the wrong way round, and so they all raced in cotton singlets as usual onto which they had to sew Union Jack badges themselves.<br />
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<b>And finally, the after-party </b><br />
The rowing events took place during he first week of the two-week games, leaving the rowers a week to enjoy life in the Olympic village. Pauline was astonished to find that doughnuts came with anything other than jam in them (lemon cream was a revelation, and understandably so), sat in a jacuzzi with Duncan Goodhew, and enjoyed a concert starring the Canadian jazz pianist Oscar Petersen and the Beach Boys.<br />
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<b>1976's Olympians today</b><br />
Gill Parker currently coaches the senior men's squad coach at Lea RC. Beryl Crockford is Head Coach at Sydney Boys High School in Australia. Pauline Peel competes regularly and successfully at Masters level.<br />
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I'm very grateful to all of them for sharing their hard-won experiences with me.<br />
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A more detailed account of the <a href="https://rowingstory.com/year-by-year/1976-2/" target="_blank"><b>GB women's rowing team at the 1976 Olympic Games</b></a> can be read here.<br />
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<b>Update (September 2016):</b> Tragically, Beryl Crockford passed away on 11 September, 2016, following a cycling accident.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Olympic flag photo: Copyright: </span><a href="http://www.123rf.com/profile_attila445" style="font-size: small;">attila445/123RF Stock Photo</a><span style="font-size: x-small;">.
The other two photos are from Gill Webb's private collection and are reproduced here with her permission.</span></div>
Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-75475116188784446642016-04-28T16:17:00.001+01:002021-06-28T20:44:59.870+01:00Rowing without walls (but with tea and baby robins)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Read these words: "Rowing club". What did you just think of? A building? Maybe with a bar? And changing rooms? Lots of boats on racks (probably all racing boats, if you're British, though a mix of touring and racing boats if you're Dutch or from elsewhere in Europe)? Regular outing times?<br />
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Usually, you'd be right about all of those. But yesterday I was a guest at Langstone Cutters Rowing Club, which flourishes without having a boathouse at all (although they do have what could reasonably described as a strong relationship with the pub next door) and simply keep their boats on trolleys in a narrow strip of land, nestling among trees. What's more, geography dictates that they can only get afloat two hours either side of high tide, so the concept of "rowing is at 8am on Saturdays" isn't on. It was the best fun, and I rowed in not one but TWO types of boat I'd never been in before (or heard of, in one case).<br />
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Whilst I'm on the subject of nestling, the club DOES actually have use of some indoor space, in the form of half a garage where spare blades and other boaty bits and pieces are kept. As its door is missing a plank, some robins got in and built their nest on top of a life jacket bag. Clearly birds with the safety of their offspring in mind.<br />
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<b>New boat No. 1: the Solent Galley</b><br />
These are a traditional, fixed-seat wooden coxed fours, without riggers, and originally designed for racing.<br />
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I gather that they were the precursor of sliding seat coastal fours, but there are now only a handful of them still in use. They're good boats for this type of rowing, though: there was a pretty hefty wind blowing, so I can say from experience that their hull shapes deal with a modest swell and galloping white horses extremely well!<br />
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As there were six of us, I started off sat on the extra thwart in the bows. As with pilot gigs, the naming of sides is based on which side stroke is on, so "strokeside" was the green blades in this boat. Although there is an obvious logic to this, the flaw in the approach is immediately obvious when you get into a sculling boat (see Boat No.2 below), when strokeside is "red", as "normal". But hey, this is rowing, a sport rich with traditions, and who needs logic anyway when you're having a fun time out on the water?<br />
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As a firm believer in looking after your bum whilst rowing, I was impressed with the TRIPLE-layered neoprene seat pads.</div>
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As the pins are mounted directly on the gunwales, they have a fearsome amount of lateral pitch. This turned out not to have any noticeable effect, presumably because the stroke is so much shorter than a sliding seat stroke (although the way that the water kept appear and disappearing unexpectedly in the swell meant that this wasn't the most precise of trials).</div>
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After a little while I swapped in to bow (on strokeside), and after another little while, mostly got used to the quite small amount of inboard.<br />
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We continued to battle epicly into the cross headwind on a route round Fowey Island (which wasn't really obvious as it's only a part-time island, being under water around high tide), before turning round and heading North East to Emsworth Harbour where we tied up in the marina and went to have tea in the cafe. Whilst there, what is possibly Britain's newest rowing club was pointed out to me: Dolphin Rowing Club, represented by a sliding seat coastal coxed four, on trestles under a canvas cover. I do love the boat-first-building-later approach to developing rowing in his area!<br />
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<b>New boat No.2: the Teifi Skiff</b><br />
Refreshed by our mid-outing tea, crews were rearranged for what should have been a shorter return leg so that I could have a go in the Teifi Skiff, a mostly fiberglass coxed double, again with no riggers. The fixed seat thwarts were suspended from metal brackets, and a metal bar along the inner keel was fitted with ergo feet.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBDZE-1_HLzmx8I3uCIg5knOOKfMd0bNaibXSM3LI0gmzwtPNVYatgDNUCEId8dZfMzaWW07CqNfiENsaPMWtt_Y9zxIPCKRaG6rluaFP61g1M6AS8Yfvo2hlE8bces1jcsI9Bj__lzVU/s1600/RIMG1245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBDZE-1_HLzmx8I3uCIg5knOOKfMd0bNaibXSM3LI0gmzwtPNVYatgDNUCEId8dZfMzaWW07CqNfiENsaPMWtt_Y9zxIPCKRaG6rluaFP61g1M6AS8Yfvo2hlE8bces1jcsI9Bj__lzVU/s320/RIMG1245.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boats in the wood.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The flared sides were pretty effective at parrying the really quite considerable swell and white horses, and although we rowers got fairly drenched from spray, not much water actually go into this seaworthy, but no-longer-made little boat.<br />
<br />
The Teifi, I discovered is a river in Wales. I haven't learned so many things in one afternoon in ages!<br />
<br />
Langstone have two Teifi skiffs, called Lotty and Millie. As the club also has boats called Mabel and Gladys, I assumed that Lotty and Millie were christened to fit in with the "traditional English girls' names" theme. But no: they're actually so-called because they were bought with funding by the Millennium Lottery Fund. Brilliant.Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com3Langstone High St, Havant, Hampshire PO9 1RY, UK50.8392461 -0.9806352000000515550.836739099999996 -0.9856777000000515 50.8417531 -0.9755927000000516tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-50118685549274029872016-04-16T10:49:00.000+01:002016-04-22T10:56:53.633+01:00Getting to the Heart of the Hart van Holland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPuBo-TYXi5Ey5EHnE4vvJBrvJTRlvxKACeOY2ph2XTIgbCpdHHRh2pcSHH-fnVbvXhZq668wcT6bpyniWYLqjPEq9G-CE7mOY-ymcjLN0AXmM70AgBi0Jt3XN61rlKde0zuUVClLrCKs/s1600/Mixed+coming+out+of+lock.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPuBo-TYXi5Ey5EHnE4vvJBrvJTRlvxKACeOY2ph2XTIgbCpdHHRh2pcSHH-fnVbvXhZq668wcT6bpyniWYLqjPEq9G-CE7mOY-ymcjLN0AXmM70AgBi0Jt3XN61rlKde0zuUVClLrCKs/s200/Mixed+coming+out+of+lock.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
"Do the Hart van Holland," my Dutch marathon rowing buddies told me. "It's in the Green Heart area and it's really pretty," they said. I looked it up. 90km: lovely! Long enough to make it worth the flight over there. I sought some crewmates, and finished up with a four-boat team of 18 which made up 10% of the total entry. Great!<br />
<br />
Which made the fact that two of our crews, including nine, were stopped before the final timed section all the harder. Some of it was our fault. Most of it wasn't. Still, in the 70km we did complete we found out how you can get 40 boats in a lock, how to get through a passageway that's so narrow you can't get your blades out on either side, and what happens when you don't stick to the "swap the cox every 30 minutes" plan. We also saw some windmills.<br />
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<b>What's in a name?</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaxvxEV1X0uN9L_2YtAb0TgZZzZWVH8R-i8bING3Eafh8PqFzTA1rYrved1Xiz4c35pVhKloRhDaH29if2fZI2cgMRE-pcHttkS7EQ2yJZMyAeI4FySH-TliKOyAqXS-CmKGQ4qrO4AuY/s1600/lepelaar+detail.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaxvxEV1X0uN9L_2YtAb0TgZZzZWVH8R-i8bING3Eafh8PqFzTA1rYrved1Xiz4c35pVhKloRhDaH29if2fZI2cgMRE-pcHttkS7EQ2yJZMyAeI4FySH-TliKOyAqXS-CmKGQ4qrO4AuY/s320/lepelaar+detail.JPG" width="201" /></a></div>
The event is based at URV Viking in Utrecht, where many of the boats are, of course, named after key figures in Norse mythology. We'd arranged to rent boats from them, and were duly introduced to Geri, named after a wolf who accompanied Odin, Nott, and Empacher (who don't just make racing boats!) named after the goddess of the night, and Sigi, named after the beautiful widow of some Earl. All madly brave, inspiring and that kind of thing.<br />
<br />
And my crew's boat? Well, this was rented in from another club and was called Lepelaar. Which turned out to mean "spoonbill".<br />
<br />
Squawk. (Apologies to any ornithologists reading this: I have no idea what noise a spoonbill makes, if any.) Despite her lack of an epic name, she had the most interesting rudder fitting I've ever seen, which was obviously very appropriate for the event.<br />
<br />
But enough of ironmongery...<br />
<br />
<b>How it all works</b><br />
The Hart van Holland starts and finishes on the east side of the Amsterdam-Rhine Canal (think a watery equivalent of the M1 if it only had lorries on it which were about the size of jumbo jets), but most of the event takes place on the west side of it, and therefore you've got to cross it twice, one at a time, and accompanied by two safety boats.<br />
<br />
As it would be completely unfair to be timing crews whilst they are waiting for their turn with this pair of lollipop boats, and you then add in the fact that there is a lock about 8.5km from URV Viking, and that incredibly narrow passageway, the race is split into four timed stages with chunks of paddling, negotiating things, and otherwise faffing about before, between and after the timed bits.<br />
<br />
<b>Our first mistake</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1HRZG7Ulj70FZTG8sC19Fdx8N6GBCKTGMnsCp3PkhWaxG_wnk1QMwIGYcaS_b7MfroZBixUczMzaHstvUVky4TEQRVmd4-fG2BpjMuZL8-qaOwkfSZH8iqrRvJPmp7A61PbzYVEcdFoM/s1600/lock.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1HRZG7Ulj70FZTG8sC19Fdx8N6GBCKTGMnsCp3PkhWaxG_wnk1QMwIGYcaS_b7MfroZBixUczMzaHstvUVky4TEQRVmd4-fG2BpjMuZL8-qaOwkfSZH8iqrRvJPmp7A61PbzYVEcdFoM/s320/lock.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The herringbone pattern was not strictly necessary. <br />Or even helpful.</td></tr>
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...was failing to realise that the amount of time you spend on the untimed stages really matters. I'll explain why shortly.<br />
<br />
<b>How to get 40 boats in a lock</b><br />
Even to those of us used to rowing through locks on the Thames, this sounds unfeasible, but the short answer is that it's very easy if the lock is large enough. In fact, with a strong cross wind (this turned out to be a theme for the day) blowing us all over to one side of the lock, it was clear that we could more or less have fitted in as many boats again. Good thing that the height change wasn't anything like what it is on the Thames or it might have taken all day!<br />
<br />
<b>Stage 1</b><br />
You can't see me in the lock picture above because our crew was number 34 out of 40, and we were pretty much marshaled into the lock in order. The race was rowed in touring coxed boats (known as C boats on the continent), so the C2s went first followed by those of us in C4s, acknowledging that the C4s were faster so should catch up over the course of the day.<br />
<br />
This indeed proved to be true as we overtook various C2s during the pretty first stage on the river Vecht (HVH fact: the river bits are wiggly; the canal bits are straight) passing through the charming village of Maarssen, where I vaguely entertained stroke (I was coxing) with Dutch facts I'd gleaned from previous rowing trips here, including:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>The Dutch never pass up an opportunity to use double letters in spelling a word.</li>
<li>Traditional Dutch window frames are cream and black.</li>
<li>The letter "j" is pronounced "y" as in "yes", which led to the revelation that the club we passed flying a flag that looked like it had the Blue Peter ship on it, actually more or less did as it was called "Het Galjoen" (The Galleon).</li>
</ul>
<br />
Hope your linguistic brain cells are buzzing after that one.<br />
<br />
<b>A narrow escape</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixMD0wWGQMYUu1D8-m0lkhf17Xml4kIiwm-7GIAe-3SDK8bjoaBRJOIm3rwKVThbgMNV-HcRetiB4rko0HfapJQ2gPEISM7lHXmN4IjbRUh8oJEtW8iF3Bdfi6txO1z0G6X7x0gLK2O7M/s1600/queue+at+breukelen.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixMD0wWGQMYUu1D8-m0lkhf17Xml4kIiwm-7GIAe-3SDK8bjoaBRJOIm3rwKVThbgMNV-HcRetiB4rko0HfapJQ2gPEISM7lHXmN4IjbRUh8oJEtW8iF3Bdfi6txO1z0G6X7x0gLK2O7M/s320/queue+at+breukelen.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very pretty bridge whilst queueing to <br />get into the Breukelen passage.</td></tr>
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With so much going on, three quarters of an hour just flew by and we arrived at the end of the first timed stage and the start of the famous Breukelen (pronounced Brooklyn) passage.<br />
<br />
The first of several techniques this requires is "slippen", which means "put your blades parallel with the boat with the spoons dragging on the water, but keep holding the handles". We got slightly bored explaining to Dutch people, who politely enquired what the English word is for this, and also "liggen" (lie backwards flat so you can get under a very low bridge", that there ARE no English words for these maneuvers because we simply never have to do them.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNYi_XHdGbgUR4Yir7RRghfOCVMW0SPRMqH2mHPq1vg2zb_gFXHHAO4blaEq4WVlPScp2ARV1lcl_en0L4W1angfrsAzQA4tLv2J8gHw5rGhbglwRO85ExRv_wfdupVYbVRw4civLk3o/s1600/Breukelen+passage.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNYi_XHdGbgUR4Yir7RRghfOCVMW0SPRMqH2mHPq1vg2zb_gFXHHAO4blaEq4WVlPScp2ARV1lcl_en0L4W1angfrsAzQA4tLv2J8gHw5rGhbglwRO85ExRv_wfdupVYbVRw4civLk3o/s320/Breukelen+passage.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A new rowing experience.</td></tr>
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We also had canoe paddles which the cox and bow used: bow turned round on her seat to face the front of the boat to paddle. And also a boathook, and a long rope with a tennis ball on the end which we'd been advised we should throw to an onlooker who would help to pull us through. A trained spoonbill would have come in very handy here too, but there's never an obedient wading bird around when you need one.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Where it all started to go wrong</span><br />
Unfortunately, through a combination of starting the first stage near the back anyway because of our start number, and even though we didn't finish it at the back, having to move into the bank to let a cruiser past whilst waiting in the queue for the Breukelen passage, and simply being too British about queuing politely, we were the last crew to enter, and the fabled helpful bystanders had got bored by this stage. That said, this didn't much matter as the C2 in front of us kept getting stuck across the channel.<br />
<br />
Once we finally were near the end of the 600m-long passage, still queueing behind other boats, we could see the tops of massive barges heading down the Amsterdam-Rhine Canal. It wasn't quite a case of the sky darkening, but we would have been like a skateboard in front of a juggernaut if it hadn't been for the safety boats holding us back.<br />
<br />
<b>Further problems</b><br />
After crossing the A-R Canal and wiggling round a few very sharp corners under rail and motorway bridges, we then reached a special section which had been introduced this year to celebrate URV Viking's 110th anniversary: a 110m sprint. Some of us had even practiced this at home, and reckoned that 20 strokes would be ample.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheQb5A-oEoLI7qLdi8X5qidPWBjOUJThyphenhyphenl-P1WULJMiT8xkP5FTvY7nRMEYfwokUGyBV7SQVzDl_l1d67uxwpxxt6G0z2Kzge90RAk2AqbmtrHdHMc-NU-pHGFdhZ8l3r7wWPZ4spqi6I/s1600/liggen.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheQb5A-oEoLI7qLdi8X5qidPWBjOUJThyphenhyphenl-P1WULJMiT8xkP5FTvY7nRMEYfwokUGyBV7SQVzDl_l1d67uxwpxxt6G0z2Kzge90RAk2AqbmtrHdHMc-NU-pHGFdhZ8l3r7wWPZ4spqi6I/s320/liggen.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Liggen" and "slippen" at the same time.<br />And nearly "capsizen" as well (NB, I made that word up).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Before this, though, we pulled int the bank briefly to swap round so someone else was coxing: other boats had also pulled in but, unlike us, these were "estafette" or relay crews who were swapping the whole crew in and out. The four British crews were "integraal" (all of us were in the boat the whole way though we took turns to cox). None of us would have wanted to be anything other than integraal, although not all estafette crews had a rest whilst out of the boat: some hopped on bicycles and cycled to the next changeover point, making it more of a duathlon than a traditional relay!<br />
<br />
However, I did realise that the estafette crews didn't have to "waste" time going for a wee at the swap points. The comfort pauses added up.<br />
<br />
Anyway, we slogged our way through the least sprinty sprint I've ever done, into a truly screaming headwind, and then ground to a halt in another queue, this time for a cantilevered bridge that was so low even the liggen technique wouldn't get you under it. But despite this being in the middle of nowhere, a surprising number of cars wanted to cross the bridge. So it would open and let two or three crews through, then close again for some cars, and so on. Then a couple of C2s got wrapped round each other across the river and held us up some more. And we hadn't even started stage two yet! But as we weren't being timed, we weren't bothered other than it was getting frustrating and cold. In fact, we should have been (bothered, that is).<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM-lGGOcUpzsL7so3UkVkzMKsVR_-kLCTe35nj0SFEOi3oiwDTme5Q_Q1WjC2zit0QZsK0Y0OuR6v8GAetaXRBEDiyClaFPJqFv_2ICr7ymC7mbJ8aA4Vi87FFIx9sJmEvchU8B_6DGIw/s1600/windy+farmland.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM-lGGOcUpzsL7so3UkVkzMKsVR_-kLCTe35nj0SFEOi3oiwDTme5Q_Q1WjC2zit0QZsK0Y0OuR6v8GAetaXRBEDiyClaFPJqFv_2ICr7ymC7mbJ8aA4Vi87FFIx9sJmEvchU8B_6DGIw/s320/windy+farmland.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rowing through windy farmland.<br />We did a lot of this.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anyway, we finally got going and all I can really say about the next 26km is that when you're that pleased to turn a corner and find you're now only in a screaming crosswind, as opposed to a stonking headwind, it was never going to be a day for fast times. At this point we were on the river Geer. However no one felt like making ventriloquist jokes about gottles of geer.<br />
<br />
After a good while we caught up with our women's C4, and followed them at a T-junction. Fortunately some bystanders on the bridge at the junction shouted at us both that we'd gone the wrong way, and we probably only lost about 3 minutes.<br />
<br />
Based on times from previous years, this section should only have taken us about 90 minutes, and we hung on for too long after the 90 minute point hoping that we must be nearly there (the cox at the time we started the stage couldn't get my GPS to reset, so we didn't really know how far we'd come). This led to the last person on the swapping rotation (stroke) having rowed (albeit including the faffing around bit in Breukelen when she had some snacks) for well over five hours, and her tank was understandably empty. We then did stop to swap her, only to find that we arrived at the finish of Stage 2 about 10 minutes later. Information really is everything.<br />
<br />
<b>"You're very slow"</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgALiLIr__Nswwtnr2M3sx0qajkvSX2Pc539Y_fuHlbrmmkL9syR2kG6DmbYh-mL6b3_iOG8pCYbXsttz5KJ8YTurBjiH75PBRVZ7Jfz5oSzq4HsDpAo41uV72AeR3kJT5xNKXbyTaVQhs/s1600/C2+at+Abcoude.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgALiLIr__Nswwtnr2M3sx0qajkvSX2Pc539Y_fuHlbrmmkL9syR2kG6DmbYh-mL6b3_iOG8pCYbXsttz5KJ8YTurBjiH75PBRVZ7Jfz5oSzq4HsDpAo41uV72AeR3kJT5xNKXbyTaVQhs/s320/C2+at+Abcoude.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our men's C2 approaching a typical Dutch bridge.</td></tr>
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...said the official at the end of Stage 2, which was at a rowing club where we could get out and use the facilities. "No we're not", we pointed out, "We just got very held up". However, he had a point as we'd been told that the cut off point for leaving this club was 1pm, and by now it was 1,30pm. But we'd overtaken a lot of crews on Stage 2, and so after a highly efficient stop (stuffing a power bar into my mouth whilst running up the stairs to the toilet), we set off again on the wide river Amstel, reveling in what was by now a screaming tailwind. I adopted a squaring very early technique.<br />
<br />
But then we made another elementary mistake. As our super stroke had only had a short coxing stint at the end of the last stage, and the briefest of stops at the club, we started Stage 3 with her coxing again. Whilst this was definitely a good decision, I should then have insisted that we swapped someone else in to cox after 30 mins instead of carrying on to the point we turned off the Amstel which was nearly an hour later. At the time, this wasn't an issue, but it set up a problem for further on as it meant the last person in that rotation had to row for 2.5 hours. Three of us in the crew had done the 160km race round Lake Geneva, and we knew perfectly well that the last 30 mins of a two hour stint are tough, never mind going on for a further 30 mins after that. Doh.<br />
<br />
<b>Coxing through toytown</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBy5tRwGGXoZQW7xEoi5Ju96jxbKY2m2hfOvjzfw_r3noekFz0gUGW8Vimx5ALo6k7SsGnrNjidvIQtKKN6ArvtQM5mjwayiV7xfhudP5fgX2jx-FVy7SavbTGuWlyjQXUebb_lDz5miI/s1600/men+at+mill.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBy5tRwGGXoZQW7xEoi5Ju96jxbKY2m2hfOvjzfw_r3noekFz0gUGW8Vimx5ALo6k7SsGnrNjidvIQtKKN6ArvtQM5mjwayiV7xfhudP5fgX2jx-FVy7SavbTGuWlyjQXUebb_lDz5miI/s320/men+at+mill.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our men's quad heading t'mill.<br />The flag on top of it is still distinctly "on the fly".<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As it happened, I was coxing when we crossed a small lake and then entered the pretty little town of Abcoude.<br />
<br />
The instructions (created with the aid of Google Translate) at this point stated, "Please note that the route in Abcoude is very narrow and the two bridges are very low". They weren't joking, although they could have added that it was also extremely winding, but it was tremendously fun to cox as a result. I will admit that I waited till we were through to eat my cheese roll: there are limits to my multi-tasking abilities.<br />
<br />
Some time after this we went past one of the finest Dutch windmills I've seen, featuring traditional velvety-looking thatched walls. "Mooi!", as the Dutch say ("beautiful", rather than cow-commentary).<br />
<br />
<b>The end</b><br />
Although the going was tough, I certainly felt we were trucking on quite well, and we knew there was <br />
only about 4km to the end of the stage. having got the GPS going on this one. Unfortunately, due to a combination of me having added an annotation to the map in the wrong place after a briefing the previous evening, and following a Dutch crew, we took a wrong turn that lost us another 10 minutes, and when we reached the end of Stage 3 we were firmly told that this was the end for us as the safety cover for crossing back of the Amsterdam-Rhine Canal had already been extended by an hour, and we still wouldn't make it. Looking at the times later, I think it would have been a close-run thing, but we <i>had </i>arrived at that stage half an hour after the last crew that had been allowed through, so we had to accept our fate.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Ber3ZOyyhgU3CeoOx7XOeA-fV-yKSm1kcdwgwNCzHTC-MVZBj6FnN4TtWoO5Ide5z1RPjqJ6k-p_pQwItqx7WU34DTclqGZGaL62opQk6aOmXegOrJ69r6sCO1xc3PhFBwmQwno_cs8/s1600/RIMG1208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Ber3ZOyyhgU3CeoOx7XOeA-fV-yKSm1kcdwgwNCzHTC-MVZBj6FnN4TtWoO5Ide5z1RPjqJ6k-p_pQwItqx7WU34DTclqGZGaL62opQk6aOmXegOrJ69r6sCO1xc3PhFBwmQwno_cs8/s320/RIMG1208.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A disappointing end for nine crews.</td></tr>
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<br />
Personally, I found this thoroughly frustrating and disappointing: I had paced myself for another 20km and I really wanted to do them! Our overall time for Stages 1-3 was faster than those of ten crews who <i>had </i>been able to finish it all (because they'd started higher up the order), and was nearly 30 minutes faster than the slowest of these.<br />
<br />
In total, nine out of the 40 starters weren't allowed to finish, but I was impressed later by the organiser's humility in recognising that the combination of the large entry (last year there had only been around 25 crews rather than the 40 taking part this year), the additional delays created by running the Anniversary Sprint, and the unusually strong wind meant that adjustments could be made in future, and promised to think about my suggestion that integraal teams might usefully be set off ahead of estafette ones or even that the course be rowed in reverse to spread out the arrival at the Breukelen bottleneck. And with that kind of approach, plus knowledge of the course, I probably will come back again, certainly recommend the event to other British rowers looking for a rowing experience quite unlike anything you can find in the UK.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4GlPgFWsX5-l47NinhhyphenhyphenrBioaWy4fg5g0uVuLvUy799dgfa15VsJHVaOOl3rTeWPqhmDXSuVoIuAQ652mCSw_7upkqBM1BLHPqnHXPUCv0fcOTMNMeu6z7JCUbF6xqPlM4Y47oIDb4Hw/s1600/RIMG1206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4GlPgFWsX5-l47NinhhyphenhyphenrBioaWy4fg5g0uVuLvUy799dgfa15VsJHVaOOl3rTeWPqhmDXSuVoIuAQ652mCSw_7upkqBM1BLHPqnHXPUCv0fcOTMNMeu6z7JCUbF6xqPlM4Y47oIDb4Hw/s320/RIMG1206.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A handy water bottle box in a C2. <br />The other rowing position had one on the other side to maintain balance <br />(so long as you both had the same sized bottle, of course).</td></tr>
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Many thanks to <a href="http://www.miedema.dyndns.org/roeifotos.html" target="_blank">Gertjan Miedema</a> for use of his copyright photos.<br />
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Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com2Utrecht, Netherlands52.090737399999988 5.12142010000002351.934617399999986 4.7986966000000226 52.246857399999989 5.4441436000000234tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-67547064667742643912016-03-12T21:05:00.000+00:002017-06-22T21:53:47.642+01:00The Ergo Marathon: An expedition to nowhere<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ED7L251BnMJ0jHV0ky1fpi5K-SbROKEU9Y1V9IhdcpvCuVdfRDuwjgMezDyJ9hjN7p_etfm4LwZFyFQm2Q6Veqd3wxreTIEgYzIzKVYde84Kf3u7eoLQvg1ktwbp1stsMEbMTs-i7so/s1600/RIMG1169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ED7L251BnMJ0jHV0ky1fpi5K-SbROKEU9Y1V9IhdcpvCuVdfRDuwjgMezDyJ9hjN7p_etfm4LwZFyFQm2Q6Veqd3wxreTIEgYzIzKVYde84Kf3u7eoLQvg1ktwbp1stsMEbMTs-i7so/s200/RIMG1169.JPG" width="200" /></a>Years ago, I coxed a crew which was interviewed for a student magazine, and we all had to put down our hobbies and ambitions. One bloke, with a wit unusual amongst occupants of the three seat, cited his hobby as "exploring the frontiers of pain", and his ambition, "to have a map next time".<br />
<br />
Well, adventuring in the wilderness is all the rage these days, so if you're considering erging a marathon (and I've put the idea in your head now, so you can't not do it, [evil chuckle]), here's something like a map.<br />
<a name='more'></a><b><br /></b>
<b>Distance</b><br />
Like most people who have no intention of ever trying to run a marathon, I know that it's "26 and a bit" miles long. Being a normal Brit who lives in a pluralist unit-of-measurement world where our road signs are in miles, but our ergo workouts are in metres, I had never particularly thought about how far the marathon distance (26 miles 385 yards, actually, but I had to look that up) might be in metres. When I accidentally came across the fact that it's 42,195 metres, I inevitably thought, "Oh, that's only twice and a bit the 3x6k outing I do on the ergo when I'm in training for one of the more serious rowing marathons" and, just as you're now experiencing, I realised it was perfectly doable and therefore had to be done.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_v5YFLAoEKcd7U9LnbQSwBzeQarsKC0TnP5mBghwT6YMKaWo7uyRUNEHeeEPAAzJdMQ9soDG2NtNgl0yMB2Z9yj4Vf6T2lL64UP8EBiwp5ftb0le35syyvyiElU3PMS3l6tCsthQSd4/s1600/RIMG1179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_v5YFLAoEKcd7U9LnbQSwBzeQarsKC0TnP5mBghwT6YMKaWo7uyRUNEHeeEPAAzJdMQ9soDG2NtNgl0yMB2Z9yj4Vf6T2lL64UP8EBiwp5ftb0le35syyvyiElU3PMS3l6tCsthQSd4/s320/RIMG1179.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ergo marathons are not necessarily something to smile about.</td></tr>
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<br />
At this point I should perhaps confess that I'm a WaterRower devotee – it's quiet enough that you can listen to the 6.30pm comedy on Radio 4 when you're training after work which I find whiles away the time better than music (except when the comedy is SO funny that you laugh out loud which tends to be ruinous to your split), it's gentler on my faintly dodgy lower back, the calibration is more generous, and anyway, my husband won it in a raffle (albeit one where the tickets were quite expensive).<br />
<br />
But please, remember that I have admitted the calibration is generous and don't even think about comparing the scores mentioned below with ones you'd get on a Concept 2.<br />
<br />
On the subject of which, if you do use a Concept 2, you now also know why the apparently random distance of 42,195 is one of the presets.<br />
<br />
<b>Top tips for making a bad thing slightly better</b><br />
Possibly my greatest asset as a long-distance rower is the number of friends I have who are far too easily persuaded to join me. On this occasion, the Main Mug was Jon, with whom I skiff regularly along with Steve. Steve announced that he wasn't going to join us because "long ergos are boring" (the irony of this statement will become apparent a little later), but he did agree to do the first half hour, so we thought we'd get some other members of Thames Valley Skiff Club along to do a "relay" on the third machine once Steve had vacated it.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGyu-fObaHdVzl1nAgvzZmASq-K37cX7dc6_tUfnwZsNV8l19WHlbRwTwp6FQHlJaNChHumhP_T-U69Bn3ELjTA6m6zKGPHBNWwep_bI5uIuoo100mZF9MuG0gf74fWdJYScfXUSuBkbs/s1600/RIMG1170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGyu-fObaHdVzl1nAgvzZmASq-K37cX7dc6_tUfnwZsNV8l19WHlbRwTwp6FQHlJaNChHumhP_T-U69Bn3ELjTA6m6zKGPHBNWwep_bI5uIuoo100mZF9MuG0gf74fWdJYScfXUSuBkbs/s320/RIMG1170.JPG" width="240" /></a>This turned out to be a completely brilliant idea as the general coming and going of people kept Jon and me distracted from the ongoing pain and even just the plain ongoingness of it all, and with a mix of men and women, middle-aged and, er, even more middle-aged (there are very few young people in skiffing), skinny and having-eaten-plenty-of-pies, meant that the finish turned out to be remarkably close.<br />
<br />
<b>Tip 1: have a relay team alongside.</b><br />
<br />
To break things up further, I grabbed a drink and two Jelly Babies every 6km (whilst paddling gently with my left hand). These were laid out on a tray beside me.<br />
<br />
<b>Tip 2: pause at preset intervals for Jelly Babies.</b><br />
<br />
And I'd also made a list of the various locks upriver from our club for a distance of 42,195km, which I had on the floor beside me (it's on the side you can't see in the picture), so altogether there were three sets targets to work towards, which broke it all up and as we all know, the way to eat an elephant is one mouthful at a time.<br />
<br />
<b>Tip 3: come up with some other way of breaking it all up.</b><br />
The VALUE in breaking it up as much as possible and having lots of interim goals, is that you can count strokes towards those goals. I find that one stroke is slightly less than 10 metres, so once I'm within 1km of a goal, I count 100 strokes, and then I only have to do a few more to get there. If I lose count en route, well, fine: the whole point has been to distract me. I just check how far it is go to, then start counting again.<br />
<br />
<b>Tip 4: count.</b><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6VlQldIxr_VYY4o_nVA3zcwvwa8DjWDusiJtqTiDKlhN68C01o7tQQPDUVngnm-yoZAZHp74FpVuxmEJfvQs4uwyWisnxy0Pt_9RbpEzhpGO8gSuoPVDBBknPgcn2ANICXnXMSlZBx0M/s1600/RIMG1177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6VlQldIxr_VYY4o_nVA3zcwvwa8DjWDusiJtqTiDKlhN68C01o7tQQPDUVngnm-yoZAZHp74FpVuxmEJfvQs4uwyWisnxy0Pt_9RbpEzhpGO8gSuoPVDBBknPgcn2ANICXnXMSlZBx0M/s320/RIMG1177.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seated on day on the bubble wrap...</td></tr>
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Now, when we skiff, Steve endlessly teases Jon and me about the lengths we have to go to avoid various bits of our bods falling apart. In Jon's case it's his hands which he encases in tape AND then puts gloves over the top for every outing, and in mine it's the massive piece of foam I sit on to avoid the outer layers of my bum bring removed (yes, I'd like it to look smaller, obvs, but layer by layer isn't the way to go about it). Strangely, on the ergo, these issues were largely reversed: I did some fairly serious taping of a few fingers before we started, whilst Jon... well, you can see what's going on in the picture..<br />
<br />
<b>Tip 5: Princesses my need to sit on a lot of mattresses.</b><br />
<br />
We listened to a 1980 radio station throughout (there's no comedy on Radio 4 on Saturday mornings), which happened to deliver "Eye of the tiger" at just the right point for me at around 8k to go when my splits were dropping below my 2:15 target, and there didn't seem much I could do about it. With full service restored, and the last two Jelly Babies on board, I was, however, a little disappointed to find myself powering to the glorious conclusion of all this to Boy George crooning "Do you really want to hurt me?" (to which the logical answer at this point was "No, I'm hurting myself quite enough as it is, thank you"). I suppose that's why young people have those playlist things.<br />
<br />
<b>Tip 6: pumping rock is better that soulful ballads, but you probably knew that.</b><br />
<br />
Jon finished in 2:59:55 (Concept 2), I did 3.05:56 (WaterRower) and the relay team, which included people who had never been on an ergo before, did a respectable 3:07.47 (Concept 2).<br />
<br />
And that's it really. No cultural observations, no unexpected sights, no lovely wildlife moments like you get on a proper rowing marathons. Although I was mildly amused that, having refused to row for more than 30 minutes with us, Steve did hang around at the club for the rest of the marathon watching us, which surely must have been even MORE boring, although he claims it wasn't because he had a cup of tea.<br />
<br />Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-4371320874280108472016-02-23T12:23:00.001+00:002017-03-28T09:03:38.988+01:00Harder or easier? Racing then and now<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg0Xs8IKxscon9VKaNxvjZZUpGXTX2iHnqGmD22HXr3LTrQzApVECBweVJh_QgEee14sjF6cVJxmS0CVujN5jaG8_bigVywmw-VWO4Sv8h2DXKUkIaFVpyNYb9OYkJO20NSG1g9V321zw/s1600/1954+WEHORR+PR+at+3+Alpha+-+close+up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Alpha Ladies Amateur Rowing Club WEHORR 1954" border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg0Xs8IKxscon9VKaNxvjZZUpGXTX2iHnqGmD22HXr3LTrQzApVECBweVJh_QgEee14sjF6cVJxmS0CVujN5jaG8_bigVywmw-VWO4Sv8h2DXKUkIaFVpyNYb9OYkJO20NSG1g9V321zw/s200/1954+WEHORR+PR+at+3+Alpha+-+close+up.jpg" title="Women's Eights Head of the River Race 1954" width="200" /></a></div>
The strapline for this blog is "going beyond regattas and head races", so what is a post about racing doing here? Well, it's got in on a wild card because it takes a peek at the quite incredible "expedition" that rowing, and in particular women's rowing, has been on since the 1950s when entries in the Women's Eights Head of the River Race were frequently in single figures.<br />
<br />
Since then, boats, blades, kit, training, standards and the size of events have been transformed. But have the young racers of today really "never had it so good"? Or does the very popularity of women's rowing nowadays, which makes it harder to win, mean that "the good old days" were actually better?<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwcxgpKb_xyHm-G7z-TN7CqkOU6pbB47iLWPC3uJSlVLDn5SHRz3oIbbktcXYVDpHMIbwT4NgsFVPGR9CLz8weDkEKlys7DStQPBMwnI4YBGgpmsOw13bCrX1ZXDi20hUzwJfIg4lKDZU/s1600/RIMG1141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwcxgpKb_xyHm-G7z-TN7CqkOU6pbB47iLWPC3uJSlVLDn5SHRz3oIbbktcXYVDpHMIbwT4NgsFVPGR9CLz8weDkEKlys7DStQPBMwnI4YBGgpmsOw13bCrX1ZXDi20hUzwJfIg4lKDZU/s320/RIMG1141.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Putting club stickers on your car = doyenne status.<br />
(I don't suppose it's coincidence that Pauline's car's black either.)</td></tr>
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One woman who has been on this expedition, practically every step of the way, is my friend Pauline Rayner, affectionately but respectfully known to generations of young rowers as Auntie Pauline, and a doyenne of Thames Rowing Club where she has rowed as well as coached novices for many years. Back in 2014, I had the privilege of coxing her at the Women' Eights Head of the River Race (WEHORR) on the 60th (yes, you did read that right) anniversary of her first taking part, at the age of 13 in 1954, when she was a member of Alpha Ladies Amateur Rowing Club. <br />
<br />
Catching her after a recent training session, I pressed her for details about how things really were back then.<br />
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<b></b><br />
<b></b>
<b>Training</b><br />
During the winter, water outings were strictly limited to daylight hours, which meant Saturday afternoons (as it was common for most people, even office workers, to work on Saturday mornings in the 1950s) and Sunday mornings. As today, evening land training sessions during the week involved circuits but, as the club didn't have any weights to add resistance in relevant exercises, they improvised with bricks wrapped in newspaper to help "build" their strength (couldn't resist that).<br />
<br />
Afterwards, Pauline would get the bus home, but as she was a junior, her parents only agreed to this once the club Captain had written to them promising that someone would always see her onto the bus.<br />
<br />
Midweek training only happened a couple of nights a week back then, though, and even in the late 1960s and early 1970s anyone who wanted to train more often had to find some way of getting past the "but the club isn't open" attitudes of the time. It really isn't any wonder that Britain didn't win any gold medals in rowing at the Olympics between 1948 and 1984, is it?<br />
<br />
<b>Equipment</b><br />
<b></b>Boats and blades back then were wooden, of course, but unlike today, the type of boat you rowed in defined your racing category. There were shells (like today's boats), "restricteds" (which had a 2-3cm deep keel running along the bottom which allegedly made them easier to balance although I have to say I never noticed much that was stable about the restricted boat I rowed in as a novice), and then the clinkers (constructed from overlapping planks, the most traditional design).<br />
<br />
With separate prizes for each and perhaps only ten crews in the WEHORR compared with the 320 who will be racing in a couple of week's time, your statistical chances of winning were certainly higher than today!<br />
<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmKSsrUgmF1CmkoS4cgUtc45eh0eLKsxT-lTvVxpiZCCzCIdOioyDxTQYR6H11YUYIPww4cj-jEV8bIatxmunZJtTut4IIsQDCQMCkvEnAeR5Dg8XsM55clq2n5e3vUZvWSKHmF2qLGQ/s1600/Pauline+Rayner+boat+polishing+1956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Wiping down a wooden rowing shell 1954" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmKSsrUgmF1CmkoS4cgUtc45eh0eLKsxT-lTvVxpiZCCzCIdOioyDxTQYR6H11YUYIPww4cj-jEV8bIatxmunZJtTut4IIsQDCQMCkvEnAeR5Dg8XsM55clq2n5e3vUZvWSKHmF2qLGQ/s320/Pauline+Rayner+boat+polishing+1956.JPG" title="Wiping down a wooden rowing shell 1954" width="224" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always wipe your boat down, <br />
no matter what century it is.</td></tr>
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The women rowers of the 1950s had to work hard for their trophies, though, Unlike today's composite boats, even the shells were heavy. Added to that was the fact that, as most women's rowing clubs (and back then women generally rowed at separate women's rowing clubs) were relatively new and short of funds, they could only afford second hand boats. And with women's rowing being relatively new and small, most boats that were available second hand were men's boats and therefore really too big.<br />
<br />
Transporting them was a massive challenge too, and another reason why entries at the WEHORR remained low for many years. Restricteds and clinkers couldn't be sectioned, so the only way of transporting them was to load them whole onto a builder's lorry. Pauline has a memory of members of Bedford Ladies RC bringing their blades on the train to row on the Tideway in a borrowed boat, although how they got from Kings Cross station to Putney with them is unclear.<br />
<br />
One thing that hasn't changed, though, is the importance of wiping down boats – a task that the ladies of Alpha naturally delegated to the youngest member of their crew. The photo on the right appeared in a local paper under the heading "A job for the games captain" (a role the young Pauline held at Richmond County School). It is debatable whether the cheesiness of this title and, indeed, the focus on cleaning when reporting women's sport, is attributable to the social mores of the time or simply the enduring habits of local journalists. Probably both, actually.<br />
<br />
<b>Kit</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuYeYV74nLJl98vxw67JZ4Ai2NiBtY4_VkR5nAmUMD2merhJYyH1oHlvxNwaAYYeNs2I9FETUDBUUJw6GMk69KihhkSvKvfI9EZMRMvJXpgpJU6eYBGqJ5XvAARBMrXweBpPv2l-fwr6c/s1600/PR1954+before+WEHORR+%2528c%2529+Wing+Features+press+photographic+service+18+Hill+Rise+Richmond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Ladies' rowing kit (1954)" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuYeYV74nLJl98vxw67JZ4Ai2NiBtY4_VkR5nAmUMD2merhJYyH1oHlvxNwaAYYeNs2I9FETUDBUUJw6GMk69KihhkSvKvfI9EZMRMvJXpgpJU6eYBGqJ5XvAARBMrXweBpPv2l-fwr6c/s320/PR1954+before+WEHORR+%2528c%2529+Wing+Features+press+photographic+service+18+Hill+Rise+Richmond.jpg" title="Ladies' rowing kit (1954)" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cosy winter kit à la 1954.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As with equipment, today's rower is well served by advances in materials sciences when it comes to kit. While Pauline looks great in her racing kit in the boat-wiping photo above, the top was a blouse with no stretch in it, and the shorts were similarly un-stretchy as well as being uncomfortably short PLUS the crew members had to sew orange stripes down the sides of their shorts themselves.<br />
<br />
And if that wasn't bad enough, the real problem with kit back then was that this was basically all there was! Tracksuits hadn't yet been invented (and even when they did start to appear in the 1960s<sup>1</sup>, they were prohibitively expensive), and neither had tights (the concept of rowing with woolen stockings and suspenders under one's rowing shorts doesn't even bear thinking of) and anyway, it was deemed character building that sportspeople just wore shorts all year round.<br />
<br />
In minor deference to the British winter (and spring, summer and autumn as well, in fact), Pauline does remember having a long-sleeved, cricket-style jumper, which she is pretty sure came from a jumble sale and, of course, got soaked as soon as you took it off and put it in the bottom of the boat (no enclosed hatches back then).<br />
<br />
Boats had "clogs" which were like today's ergo feet but involved a wooden footplate, brass heel cups, and leather straps, rather than full shoes. You can just about see in the picture above that Pauline is wearing "plimsolls": again with proper running trainers still being far in the future (they were only really developed when the jogging craze started in the 1970<sup>2</sup>), this is all there was for athletic footwear. As land training also involved running, I can only imagine that shin splints were practically an occupational hazard for rowers at the time.<br />
<br />
<b>Long or short? A strange decision</b><br />
At the time Pauline first raced in the WEHORR, the event was only just getting going again after the <br />
Second World War. And although it had first been raced in a processional format in the 1930s over the full four and a quarter miles championship course from Mortlake to Putney, when it restarted in 1950 the course was shortened to two miles, from the White Hart to Hammersmith, on the grounds that the full course would be "too much" for competitors after years of rationing<sup>3</sup>.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRwpPCozhqYlEWD8n5hkSA_9tN4adWBTWR5YM4ibKtbykr1WagMUU-YLxNtqJLmtsPeV83aCeqlvdIO-ZBADLXUMyuAqCjPc4xZ0pQgQxUq6ZfEENRQdf33E0MPkMBCHCRZhDEiwzZfE/s1600/1954+WEHORR+PR+at+3+Alpha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Women's Eights Head of the River Race 1954: Alpha BC" border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRwpPCozhqYlEWD8n5hkSA_9tN4adWBTWR5YM4ibKtbykr1WagMUU-YLxNtqJLmtsPeV83aCeqlvdIO-ZBADLXUMyuAqCjPc4xZ0pQgQxUq6ZfEENRQdf33E0MPkMBCHCRZhDEiwzZfE/s400/1954+WEHORR+PR+at+3+Alpha.jpg" title="Women's Eights Head of the River Race 1954: Alpha BC" width="292" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WEHORR 1954 (when eight crews raced): <br />
Pauline's at 3 and yes, she is leaning away from <br />
her rigger and has her hands far too close together. <br />
By the next year she was much better <br />
and had moved to the 5 seat.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Pauline's herself disagrees with the "weakened by rationing" theory entirely, and remember that "people then were far healthier than nowadays as the only food available was wholesome". And long before the days of "click and deliver", she acknowledges the weight-training opportunity afforded by being sent by her mother to do the grocery shopping and having to carry 10lb bags of potatoes home (an experience unknown to most if not all of today's 13 year olds) as well as the benefits of walking almost everywhere because of petrol rationing.<br />
<br />
The robustness of the "weakened by rationing" theory as a valid reason for rowing the short course is certainly thrown into doubt by the facts that the men's Head of the River Race (HORR) had gone straight back to being raced over the full course when it had restarted in 1946, and that the WEHORR continued to use the short course well into the 1970s despite rationing ending in 1954.<br />
<br />
As a women's-only event largely run by women, the WEHORR should have been relatively free of the views frequently proffered by men for why women's rowing events should be less demanding than those for men (women's events were only added to the World Rowing Championships in 1975, and it wasn't until 1988 that they raced the full 2,000m distance at Olympics, after all). Did the organisers at the time genuinely believe the "weakened by rationing" theory, even though their colleagues on the HORR committee clearly didn't? Or did they think that offering the short course would attract more competitors, but that they needed a "blameless" reason for doing so? And did they even get round to revisiting the matter each year? It would certainly be fascinating to trawl the race's archive for minutes from the era.<br />
<br />
That said, offering only the short course was probably a wise move by the time the it got to the first half of the 1960s. Pauline remembers crews failing to finish the race on several occasions because they weren't fit enough as well as having "abysmal" technique, although the latter can at be least partly attributed to a lack of people prepared to coach women.<br />
<br />
<b>Which was better, then or now?</b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMg-HOpOyq0yaBYAXN7y2N4nUVWF8mAHVWbw1YuVlR5PutQlCVXfRHZz_18b9QyjsZ3sFLpAzitUFeVgYjyf_WPhWVNBwxepuu4cKkwhfisQBv4KlR-pcYaeMrWxzt5FUJMZ4sMcqBMI/s1600/RIMG1140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Pauline Rayner: rower" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMg-HOpOyq0yaBYAXN7y2N4nUVWF8mAHVWbw1YuVlR5PutQlCVXfRHZz_18b9QyjsZ3sFLpAzitUFeVgYjyf_WPhWVNBwxepuu4cKkwhfisQBv4KlR-pcYaeMrWxzt5FUJMZ4sMcqBMI/s320/RIMG1140.JPG" title="Pauline Rayner" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pauline's rowing career is well <br />
into its seventh decade. <br />
She continues to work on her catch.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This question boils down to, would I give up comfortable, warm, performance kit; correctly-sized, minimum-weight boats; ultralight blades that only contribute to injuries if you use them incorrectly; land training with specifically-designed equipment; and the experience of racing thousands of women rowers in an event that showcases the popularity of women's rowing; even though this means that winning is hard, in return for a statistically greater chance of winning, albeit often against rather poor opposition; and a shorter race?<br />
<br />
You know the answer, don't you? Not likely!<br />
<br />
<b>Postscript</b><br />
Last year, I coxed Pauline's at an early-season head on the Tideway in preparation for the WEHORR in a Masters F VIII average age 60+).<br />
<br />
Whilst sitting around marshaling, we found ourselves alongside a crew of young women. We got chatting, and one of them asked what status we were. We explained. Her eyes widened and she exclaimed, "Cool! You're like, old enough to be my mum!" "Actually", I replied, "half the crew's old enough to be your GRANDMA!"<br />
<br />
I think, and for the purposes of this story let's stick with this, that we beat them. The moral of this tale, therefore, is that there's the very best option isn't then OR now, but rather it is to have rowers who were toughened in the bad old days, but in my boat and racing today.<br />
<br />
<div style="font-size: smaller;">
<b>References</b><br />
<sup>1</sup><span style="font-size: smaller;"> </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tracksuit" style="font-size: smaller;" target="_blank">Tracksuit</a><span style="font-size: smaller;">, Wikipedia. Retrieved 15 February 2016.</span><br />
<sup>2</sup> <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sneakers" target="_blank">Sneakers</a>, Wikipedia Retrieved 23 February 2016.<br />
<sup>3 </sup>Women's Heights Head of the River <a href="http://wehorr.org/history/" target="_blank">website</a>, Retrieved 14 February 2016.
<br />
<br />
All photos are from Pauline's personal collection. apart from the one of her car and the one of her in the pink jersey which are © Helena Smalman-Smith. The "Cosy winter kit" photo is © Wing Features press photographic service. The "Always wipe your boat down" one is <span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;">©</span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"> Fox Photos Ltd.</span></div>
Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-42615071754444101152016-02-04T12:23:00.001+00:002016-02-04T16:51:07.471+00:00The hardest rowing challenge he could think of<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2zVJV7tFCOVErE094Ggdg4f7kq9Ns-yNn_rPAVFDmjZ5TdO2zdwpgc_FkTA4s5tDI5U0HHUUvx3OvzfKr6sLN3ACXs8Yv-jEFXEYfhjmpFfEbLdAMU0YSyx7_40ARIPNRDcqWLxoN3ro/s1600/route.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2zVJV7tFCOVErE094Ggdg4f7kq9Ns-yNn_rPAVFDmjZ5TdO2zdwpgc_FkTA4s5tDI5U0HHUUvx3OvzfKr6sLN3ACXs8Yv-jEFXEYfhjmpFfEbLdAMU0YSyx7_40ARIPNRDcqWLxoN3ro/s200/route.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
When it comes to challenges of any kind, the enormity of the challenge is depends on the individual as well as what it actually involves. If you're rowing an ocean, the challenge is pretty much built in: there's no such thing as "taster" ocean. That said, the Pacific Ocean is a heck of a lot bigger than the others: I mean, you can position a globe so that it's all you can see. But when my friend John Beeden, who already had an extremely fast (53 days) solo crossing of the Atlantic under his belt, was planning his Pacific crossing, he deliberately sought a route that was proper hard.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>How to make a hard thing harder</b><br />
First of all, he decided to row mainland to mainland, rather than make use of any offshore islands that still technically constitute an ocean crossing (my own Atlantic row, for instance, was from the Canary Islands to Barbados – not a mainland in sight). This may sound like just a couple of hundred miles more, but the extra distance isn't just any couple of hundred miles. Continents sit on shelves (please bear in mind I don't even have an O-level in geography), or something like that. This makes the edge of the ocean that's on top of the shelf relatively shallow. The wavelength of waves coming in from deep water gets shorter when it gets shallower (I DO have an O-level in physics). And short waves are a pain to row in. It's bad enough near islands and their small shelves, Proper mainlands are way worse. And then there are the onshore currents and winds, which can be either permanently unhelpful or swirly and unpredictable. Not sure which is better. Or worse.<br />
<br />
Then, he decided to do it across the Equator. Again, this might sound a bit arbitrary, but it meant that he would have to get through the "Inter Tropical Convergence Zone" (ITCZ – remember that, it will come up later), commonly known as the doldrums, that spans the Equator, and features crazy currents and wild winds as well as really extreme heat.<br />
<br />
And that's why John set off from San Francisco on the West Coast of the United States on 2 June 2015, around my bedtime, bound for Cairns, on the West Coast of Australia, 7,020 statute miles away as the crow flies, with not a chance of taking that direct route.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgijYw2mmtp_vurBCDmLy18-ejWwzkNe4UoeQ0nyRdKfCXl8SSuogR5uXzEegdbNAHO65Knun7TVfr5h6oonhFWa4ROzygJGKQBjwdsdhgATKz3LR2j_IbA2GQLa3z5SPZ5udObpL85E1I/s1600/Before-GGB1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgijYw2mmtp_vurBCDmLy18-ejWwzkNe4UoeQ0nyRdKfCXl8SSuogR5uXzEegdbNAHO65Knun7TVfr5h6oonhFWa4ROzygJGKQBjwdsdhgATKz3LR2j_IbA2GQLa3z5SPZ5udObpL85E1I/s320/Before-GGB1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Go."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>What happened?</b><br />
In the fine tradition of <i>The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy </i>which reduced all of the detailed reports, graphs, and data that Ford Prefect submitted about the planet Earth to "mostly harmless", I'll summarise: he made it. 208 days later, after travelling 8,829 statute miles, landing on 27 December, exactly where he intended, albeit somewhat later.<br />
<br />
Seven months. In a 6m-long, 159cm-wide (at the widest point) boat. That's a metre longer than my Volvo V70. And slightly narrower. And whilst I can pack a good deal of grocery shopping into the car, I don't think I could get 28 weekly shops into it. And that's just the toilet roll...<br />
<br />
You can read about each of John's incredibly arduous journey, including the 22 soul-destroying (well, it would be for most of us) days when he was blown backwards away from cairns including one ghastly stretch of eight solid days during which he lost 217 nautical miles (396 km), in his <a href="http://solopacificrow.com/small-pic-right-sidebar/" target="_blank">blog</a>.<br />
<br />
So when I caught up with John once he'd started the process of "re-entry" to normal life (actually, he was on a business trip already), I made sure I didn't ask him to repeat any of the things he'd taken so much care to write about, or ask the obvious ocean rowing questions like "What did you eat?", "Did you anchor when it was stormy?" and, of course, "How did you go to the toilet?", the answers to which will be familiar to the well-informed readers of this blog.<br />
<br />
Instead, here are some insights into the mindset of a man who not only thought up this incredible challenge, but also achieved it.<br />
<br />
<b>Q. What were the standout memories?</b><br />
A. Crossing the equator was a big day, being only the second person to reach the equator from north America was a big deal. It also made me think I could get all the way. The other big memory is making it through the ITCZ which was such a difficult process, rowing 28 hour stints to break free of swirling currents, dealing with the heat and equatorial convections.<br />
<br />
<b>Q. How did you get through the sheer difficulty of it all?</b><br />
A. I think it was a day by day process, writing the blog actually was a good release, it cleared away the days negativity. There is a point in the blog at which I stopped looking at the trip as a whole and it became a daily challenge to get the best out of the individual day. I was a true example of living in the moment, the day, the hour, the mile, the stroke.<br />
<br />
[I didn't ask John whether he had studied the recently-popular concept of mindfulness or whether he just worked this out for himself. I suspect the latter.]<br />
<br />
<b>Q. You’re a lean runner at the best of times, but by the end of the trip you had very serious muscle wastage, pretty much all over and especially on your bum. Do you think you will suffer any long-term physical side-effects from the trip?</b><br />
A. I lost 17lb, ending up about 10/11lb under my normal weight. I actually gained upper body weight but my legs (surprisingly) and behind changed substantially. Running has been difficult since I returned [Note: he went for his first run on 30 December. I'm not sure if this is actually more incredible than his 209 days at sea] he and until I rebuild the muscle will remain so. I also managed to damage my Achilles tendon after 10 days or so, this is now healing well but holding me back. Long term I don’t expect any real issues.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1OlUJ1VV7vxGMeAmPGfZsIrPZAnffsCudPMGQlJtoY0OQMlL4YCuwPS6Y6t0Zd_NVerU7CcLQHqPi-aUG1r3CSeQfL8lCMiurjCcDknIzvwot1QgWFLb8PXEIl75bWnLxgmdL_zRziWA/s1600/landed-2015-12-27-at-6.50.07-PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1OlUJ1VV7vxGMeAmPGfZsIrPZAnffsCudPMGQlJtoY0OQMlL4YCuwPS6Y6t0Zd_NVerU7CcLQHqPi-aUG1r3CSeQfL8lCMiurjCcDknIzvwot1QgWFLb8PXEIl75bWnLxgmdL_zRziWA/s320/landed-2015-12-27-at-6.50.07-PM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Plump" is not a word that the judges of the "Rear of the Year" award would use about John's backside when he landed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Q. How many pairs of shorts did you get through? [a question prompted by the saggy look of his shorts in the above picture]</b><br />
A. I only wore clothing for about three weeks, I then packed all my clothing away and just pulled out a shirt and shorts for the big finish. [Serves me right for asking.] I did wear through five sheep skin seat covers though. [Stop press: Man's bare bottom proved tougher than small flock of sheep.]<br />
<br />
<b>Q. Ginger Nuts were mentioned frequently in your blogs with enthusiasm and later wistfulness (when they were running out). How many packets did you eat?</b><br />
A. 82.<br />
[Respect.]<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWy1VqGL7sViZysp5sHcY0OfAPWgDZlpC7IdWGhS9NYw2TkOtJUVQv6sIVp22XiQwY-hiqH5TQOqZLEoYbbMIsIRAG5y7FvBCkCjgV5NPNnAcmljVABasoGR99eXlFTkCJMROPjCXW_60/s1600/gingernut-2015-12-28-at-7.45.34-AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWy1VqGL7sViZysp5sHcY0OfAPWgDZlpC7IdWGhS9NYw2TkOtJUVQv6sIVp22XiQwY-hiqH5TQOqZLEoYbbMIsIRAG5y7FvBCkCjgV5NPNnAcmljVABasoGR99eXlFTkCJMROPjCXW_60/s320/gingernut-2015-12-28-at-7.45.34-AM.png" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A true fan.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Q. I know your family and friends kept you informed about important stuff from the outside world by satellite phone message during the row [including F1 race reports from one of his daughters]. Have you had any instances of things being referred to since you’re back where you’ve gone “hey, WHAT?”?</b><br />
A. Not so much news but a lot has changed. Nearly everything I do on my laptop now has updated software layouts, and my online banking sites are totally different. It’s been a nightmare trying to do anything, updating and finding my way around new layouts and navigation.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>And finally.. Wit amidst weariness</b><br />
The video below was shot as John was approaching Cairns harbour: a local journalist is interviewing him as he rowed. The bit I particularly love is where the journalist asks "How are your emotions?", a fairly reasonable question as someone approaches the completion of such an utterly epic and unprecedented challenge. In similar situation, interviewees might, with justification, use words like "overwhelming", "incredible", "fantastic". And what does John, a native of Sheffield, say? "I'm from Yorkshire so I'm not very emotional." Not only is it quite clearly true, but don't you just love his quick thinking to come up with that when he'd only had seven hours sleep in the previous 90. Cracking, lad.<br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<iframe align="center" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6QRw753_ttM" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
Photos © John Beeden's Blog on <a href="http://solopacificrow.com/" target="_blank">solopacificrow.com</a>, with permission.Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-6267948268399694412016-01-03T16:48:00.003+00:002016-01-03T16:50:41.116+00:00The Grasshopper Book of Expedition Rowing<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKItZeBDKb6lxlGymlXAPKO05uVtNxHAnDKFJyHxIIU2O1D7c7AFSgxT7IhcFDFR2F5kZl9tH9wrp0I_Jpzb8Qvr4_3Jd6SHXMqJ5-kk6S2H37OgpFi218e8qx5lPd_vz_qkdSuZNVd4/s1600/grasshopper-cover.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKItZeBDKb6lxlGymlXAPKO05uVtNxHAnDKFJyHxIIU2O1D7c7AFSgxT7IhcFDFR2F5kZl9tH9wrp0I_Jpzb8Qvr4_3Jd6SHXMqJ5-kk6S2H37OgpFi218e8qx5lPd_vz_qkdSuZNVd4/s200/grasshopper-cover.JPG" width="146" /></a><br />
For those of us who grew up in English-speaking homes in the 1960s and 70s, long before the days of Wikipedia, our early education was shaped by Ladybird Books.<br />
<br />
Extraordinarily, despite covering an extremely broad range of topics from Your Body, to Baby Jesus, via Ballet and The Beach (to name but four that I remember owning), there was never a Ladybird Book of Expedition Rowing.<br />
<br />
There still isn't, but this is what one might have looked like. Particularly if their illustration department had been on strike.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
Jane is an expedition rower. This means she likes to row long distances in new places.<br />
<br />
She’s been on rowing expeditions in many different countries. Last year, she went on a long row in the Netherlands. She and her friends saw a windmill.<br />
<br />
When she went on a rowing expedition in the south of France, the organisers expected her crew to drink two bottles of red wine at lunchtime. This is because the rowing tour was also a cultural experience.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZJz5jpNpo7PyxAfNrtZq8I4M_aGfOD6_Zr40wzkIwu7JqWMrGoTml46sX71RyUdtSenOBek315U4u1ITvdEDZG9GvE29CW_gGDEifjSzo85n_5BW1NfupdogLugNceA4kbHhnaOnxvs/s1600/windmill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZJz5jpNpo7PyxAfNrtZq8I4M_aGfOD6_Zr40wzkIwu7JqWMrGoTml46sX71RyUdtSenOBek315U4u1ITvdEDZG9GvE29CW_gGDEifjSzo85n_5BW1NfupdogLugNceA4kbHhnaOnxvs/s400/windmill.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Expedition rowers need to eat whenever they can. This is because rowing burns up a lot of calories. If they don’t eat enough, they become grumpy, say mean things to their crewmates and make poor decisions. That’s not good.<br />
<br />
Jane always takes Jelly Babies with her on expedition rows. She shares them with the others. Recently she learned that the fourth Dr Who did this too, and she wonders if people think she’s channeling Tom Baker.<br />
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After you’ve rowing for several hours, you arse hurts. But Jane uses a special cushion called a “seat pad”, which delays the onset of the pain, and reduces it. In fact, she usually uses two. “Any idiot can be uncomfortable”, Jane laughs.<br />
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Expedition rowers just “shut up and row”. They don’t moan when their arses hurt. Or their hands, wrists, or backs. Anyone who complains doesn’t get invited again.<br />
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Expedition rowing boats are usually coxed. The cox is the person who steers the boat whilst the others row. The crew members take turns to cox.<br />
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Whilst they are steering, they usually also have to read the map, give information about how far into their stint they are, motivate the crew, eat, tape up their hands, take photos, and have a wee wee.<br />
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Coxes need to be good at multi-tasking!<br />
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Many rowing expeditions need a “land team”. This is a glamorous term for the poor bugger who has to drive the boat trailer from the start to the finish, whilst everyone else has fun rowing. Jane often appoints her boyfriend, Peter, to be “Land Team Manager”. The role is a functional one: there isn’t actually anyone else in this team.<br />
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He can track their progress on Yellowbrick. This helps him work out whether he’s got time to pop to the chippie before they get in. He can’t go to the pub, because he’s got to drive the darn boat home. Peter wonders if he should take up rowing.<br />
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If you think Jane's hobby sounds super fun, and you'd like to try expedition rowing yourself, visit <a href="http://www.paddleducksrowing.co.uk/">www.PaddleducksRowing.co.uk</a>.</div>
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<br />Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6833851634879305722.post-37768071978965026472015-10-25T22:12:00.000+00:002015-10-29T22:35:35.501+00:00The Seven Wonders of the (Dutch rowing) World<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The Netherlands is a short flight from the southern UK and their weather is similar to ours, but their rowing clubs are practically on a different planet.<br />
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Last weekend, I went on an informal 29km rowing tour there with Dutch friends, followed by a conference on touring rowing (organised by <a href="http://www.toertochten-marathon-roeien.nl/content/toerplatform" target="_blank">Toer!</a>) the next day in Amsterdam, and was bowled over by what I found.<br />
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<a name='more'></a><b>Wonder Number 1. Soft cushions!</b><br />
We were the guests of a member of Baarn watersports club on the river Eem, south-east of Amsterdam. As you often find on the continent, there was a special cushion for the coxing seat of our touring coxed quad. So far so nicely organised.<br />
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But this club had taken the concept to a new level with monogramed embroidery: you can't quite see it in this photo, but the orange line of characters on the right are the Club name, and the small group in the top left are the boat name (so you don't accidentally take the wrong cushion for your boat – perish the thought).<br />
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It's kinda, "If Charles Tyrwhitt did boat cushions..."<br />
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<b>Wonder Number 2: Rowing into a gallery</b><br />
Anyway, we set off, and had a pleasant row past many fields to the small town of Amersfoort, which mixes well-kept old buildings, with the most modern of modern architecture, and a great deal of "art" scattered all over the place.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This must be "art". <br />
Not a clue what else it could be...</td></tr>
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There was even a chandelier under the railway bridge. The perfect lighting if you were having a floating dinner party, I guess. Though possibly only for people using sign language, given the rumble of trains overhead.</div>
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<b>Wonder number 3: The longest boathouse</b></div>
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Paddling back out of town, we stopped off at Hemus rowing club's brand new home, which is, without doubt, the most spacious boathouse I've ever seen (with the possible exception of Northeastern in Boston). </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boats, almost as far as the eye can see.<br />
Note also (OK, with a magnifying glass) the standard arrangement of a touring boat on the floor at the bottom of every rack, with fine boats above.<br />
That, people, is how many touring boats the average Dutch club has. Wow OH wow.</td></tr>
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The full length boat bays had no fewer then FOUR racks of boats along them (OK, not all VIIIs, but there were some), with copious spacing above each boat. You know how clothes are displayed in the windows of smart boutiques: a choice piece, carefully arranged on its own against complimentary surrounding. And you know how your rowing kit is stuffed into a big bag. Well, there you have Hemus rowing club compared with your average boathouse: a sort of zen of boat racking. You can just feel the calm, can't you?</div>
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As you might expect, there was also a massive bike park and a complete lack of car park, and to my utter astonishment, a sedum roof. Not sure what else I can say about that, other than !. And !!</div>
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But then the next day, I found another sedum roof at RIC in Amsterdam (I did take a photo, but once you've seen one picture of a boathouse with a sedum roof, you've seen 'em all) so, based on a sample size of three, I concluded that around 67% of Dutch boathouses have sedum roofs. I wonder if there are any in the UK? </div>
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<b>Wonder Number 5: No soggy towels, thanks, we're Dutch!</b><br />
Amidst such shiny new-ness, I was reassured to see that the club had clearly brought one thing from their previous shed: the obligatory 1950s mangle that I have observed in almost all Dutch rowing clubs, for wringing out the boat-wiping towels (where do they GET them from?).<br />
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Incidentally, when I say "almost all" clubs have these, the club back in Baarn where we started didn't have a mangle but had hurtled recklessly into the 21st century and had a dedicated boat-towel washing machine. Shocking stuff.</div>
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<b>Wonder Number 6: What goes on Tour...</b></div>
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What goes on tour are Dutch rowers apparently. Big time. All the clubs I visited had a Tour Calendar on their club noticeboard, listing at least 12 events for the season, and I discovered that every club has a Touring Committee. A permanent group dedicated to organising tours (plural). Perhaps I should emigrate?</div>
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<b>Wonder Number 7: Expressing rowing through the medium of...</b></div>
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When you've rowed for as long as I have, you've generally seen it all in terms of rowing lifestyle accessories: paintings, mugs, boxer shorts, ornaments, you know the kind of thing. But at RIC I found some novel ways of bringing rowing indoors. First, perfectly supporting Dutch stereotypes about painted tiles, the youth section had produced a set of decorated rowing tiles in the club's orange and black colours:</div>
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The river was mapped on one of the bar's coffee tables in inlaid marquetry (you can't see it in the photo blow, but bridges and locks were marked):</div>
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And finally, a highly creative member had expressed a tour route in the medium of tapestry:</div>
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That's it for wonders, but like the sprinkles on your cupcake, here's a final fascinating fact pertaining to the social history of rowing. British rowers are well aware that rowing use to have an obsession with "amateur" status, and the fact that (back in the day) it might only be done by "gentlemen". This led to the founding of clubs like Thames Tradesmen Rowing Club, whose members were barred from joining some of the amateur" clubs because their work involved a physical element. Rowing clubs in Amsterdam, however, followed different social divisions, with RIC having its origins as the Catholic rowing club (I gather that sectarian divisions ran as deep as British class divisions, till even more recently, not just with separate Catholic and Protestant schools but also hospitals, political parties and even TV channels). Apparently another club had originally been Jewish.</div>
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Photos: Martin Paasman and Helena Smalman-Smith.</div>
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Expedition Rowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03824087480855613795noreply@blogger.com0Amsterdam, Netherlands52.3702157 4.895167899999933152.2151142 4.5724443999999327 52.5253172 5.2178913999999335