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“OARS AND BCULLS,”

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[OW 70 USE THEM.
 
“OARS. AND SCULLS,”

AND

HOW TO USE THEM.

BY

WALTER BRADFORD WOODGATE,

M.A. OF B.N.C. OXON, AND BARRISTER-AT-LAW ; AUTHOR OF “0. V. H.,”
“ ENSEMBLE,” “ A HUNT CUP,” ETC.

“Qui studet optatam cursu contingere metam
Multa tulit fecitque puer, sudavit et alsit,
Abstinuit venere et vino.”
HORACE. A.P. 412-414,

LONDON: GEORGE BELL & SONS, YORK STREET,
COVENT GARDEN.

1875.
LONDON :

PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS,
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS,
CONTENTS.

 

CHAP. PAGE
I. INTRODUCTORY . : 3 ; . 1
II. CoacHING A Tyro FrRoM FIRST PRINCIPLES . 9

III. CoacHiNG A TyYro FROM FIRST PRINCIPLES—

REACH—-FINISH—FEATHER . : do AT

1V. Use oF LEGsS—RECOVERY—CATCH . .. 26
V. “Form "—SWING ; . . ; .. 730
VI. CHoosING AND PraciNg A JuNior Crew . 44
VII. ANALYSIS oF Faurts . . ; 5 Sn BY
VIII. ANAvysis oF Favrts (continued) ; .. 63
IX. ANALYSIS OF FAULTS (continued) . Tl
X. AxALysis oF Fauvrts (continued) . . 78
XI. SLIDING SEATS—ORIGIN OF , . . 87
XIL Subse Spits (continuedy—Use, or .  . 94
XIII. SuniNg SEATS (eontinued)—UsE or <0
XIV. ScuLLING . . . . . . 108
XV. ScuLLING (continued) . ? . . « 113

M751663
CONTENTS.

. TraiNniNG—Di1eT—HO0URS

. TRAINING (continued)—EXERCISE .

. TRAINING (continued)—GENERAL RULES
. CoxswAINLESS FOURS—DPAIR-0ARS

. Diexsions oF WORK

. QuoNDAM PERFORMANCES . .

PAGE

124
132
141
150
159
162

169
OARS AND SCULLS.

 

CHAPTER 1.

INTRODUCTORY.

It is anomalous that of the hundreds of amateurs
who have in their day passed through the ordeal and
experiences of rowing and training, two only have been
found to offer to succeeding generations the benefit
of their own practical experience, and still more
that these should be, not ex-competitors with the oar
in University or Grand Challenge Races, but the one
a coxswain, pur et simple, and the other a sculler, at
the top of the tree in that line, but who never aspired
to any prestige with the oar. For this reason alone
there would seem to be space left for the practical ex-
periences of rowing and training for a University or
a Grand Challenge race, or of the coaching of various
crews for various races. Still more so, when at this
date two novelties are revolutionising modern rowing
and causing controversy : the one the “sliding seat,”
the other the abolition of coxswains for four-oars.
The addenda of these subjects alone would form mate-
rial for a treatise; still, it is intended here to discuss
the whole art and its concomitants from first prin-
ciples upwards. At the same time, it must not be
B
2 " OARS AND SCULLS.

supposed that these chapters are capable of, or aspire
to, teaching rowing from first principles to a tyro who
has never handled an oar. Some writers on the sub-
ject have attempted such a style of ‘education, com-
mencing even with an abstract definition of what
rowing or sculling, as the case may be, consists of.
To economise time and space, we may as well premise
that we do not here write to those who have never
handled an oar. That would be as hyperbolical as to
teach swimming by book work, or by observation on
dry land of the action of a frog in the water. One
lesson of a practical order from a most mediocre oars-
man would be worth all the book work of every oars-
man who had ever won a blue ribbon at Putney or
gold medal at Henley. We therefore premise that we
write as &dores &doou: that those who read these
pages, and seek to make any trial of the experiences
that, with all due deference, are herein offered, have
already had an oar in their hands, and have to some
extent mastered the rudiments of the art. But
though we do not write o the utter tyro, we none the
less write for him, 7. e., to the coach who is to instruct
him. This especially must be borne in mind in read-
ing the pages which relate to the first principles.
They are written, not to teach the tyro himself, but to
suggest to his tutor the simplest plan of teaching him.
More or less, this principle may be borne in mind
throughout the “rowing” part of the work, that
these observations are more likely to bear fruit upon
an oarsman through the medium of his coach than
by any direct light they may throw upon his own
mind; for all rowing is more, or less mechanical—a re-
flex action, which, though originally set in motion by
a distinct volition, has become so stereotyped in the
senses, that so far from requiring a distinctly con-
scious volition to repeat it in its normal form, it at
INTRODUCTORY. 3

last rather requires a distinct volition to take it out
of its old groove, and to mould it in any other shape
or action. We mean this—not that a man is un-
conscious that he is rowing or requires no distinct
volition to make each stroke, but that a man is to a
great extent unconscious of the details of his form
when once he becomes settled in it, good or bad.
These details were originated by distinct volitions,
but a series of actions of a similar nature, repeated,
form a habit, which habit then reproduces, without
any strain of will, the very class of action which ori-
ginally formed it, so that at last it becomes a sheer
effort of will to act contrary to the habit thus formed.
This explanation sounds prolix, yet it may be of value
in two ways: —1. To show that an oarsman might
read and understand a treatise on form and faults in
rowing, be quite competent to form an ideal to him-
self of what rowing should be, and to “spot” faults
in another; but be unconscious himself as to his own
form, and of his own commission of the very faults
he is reading of, unless the error was most glaring.
And further, even where informed of it, his memory
would not remain at tension, constantly thinking of
the fault and its remedy, unless reminded from some
external source while rowing. 2. To show to coaches
the importance of studying details early in a tyro’s
career—not to leave him unattended to pick up hap-
hazard form and faults in light boats beyond his
gkill; and to remember the old maxim, that it is
usually easier to teach a tyro from first principles
than to coach a semi-proficient, who first requires to
be untaught all the faults.in which he has hardened.
For these reasons, these chapters on rowing are
written, from first to last, more to those who teach
rowing than to those who are engaged in learning.
The latter can learn more in an hour’s practical lesson
4 OARS AND SCULLS.

than from a year’s study of book work. With regard
to those chapters which treat of training, they can, of
course, be entered into directly by the oarsman him-
self as well as by his coach.

Inasmuch, therefore, as the first half of this work
is addressed to coaches rather than to oarsmen di-
rectly, it may be well to commence with a few general
words of advice to the former before entering into
detail of different features of rowing faults and ex-
cellences :—

1. Keep your temper.

2. Remember that the best coach is not necessarily
he who knows most and has the largest stock of prac-
tical knowledge for his own purposes, so much as he
who has the facility of imparting to others the benefit
of that which he does know. Therefore,

3. Be lucid; and if a pupil does not seem to realise
your definition of a fault or excellence in one form of
words, seek to express it in another. Analogies will
go far to express this.

4. Demonstrate practically a fault as well as an
excellence. Many a pupil errs unconsciously, but
would at once appreciate an illustration of what he is
doing wrong, and learn as much from that as from a
mere illustration of what he ought to do.

5. Trace faults to their origin, distinguish between
cause and effect, and coach the former—e. g., if a man -
is too soon or too late in the stroke, instead of simply
saying, “ Late, No. —,” or «“ Too soon —,” point out
at first what action of the body it is that leads to
error—raising the hands too late, or “bucketing ”
forward in the swing (of this more anon, in a later
chapter). This once explained, the more concise re-
minder of the effect of such a cause may do what is
wanted, supplemented with an occasional recurrence
and reminder of the cause.
INTRODUCTORY. 5

6. Avoid generalities in coaching, unless it is a fact
that a fault is really common to a whole crew; and
even then eight individual addresses, one to each
member of the crew, will have more effect than eight
general admonitions applied en masse.

7. Note how each pupil progresses from day to
day or hour to hour, and inform him. It goes a long
way to encourage him to be told that, bad as he is, he
is not so bad as he was; or if he has suddenly gene-
rated a fault or lapsed into an old one, the sooner he
is told the better.

8. Some coaches advise riding and some running,
some the stern of the boat, as the best place wherein
to criticise. One authority states that a running
coach has only to look after his crew, therefore less
to distract him. But advice and doubt in this respect,
between running and riding, must depend upon the
coach’s capacity, pedestrian or equestrian. A bad
rider on a troublesome hack will be more distracted
thus than with the difficulty of picking his footway
on a towpath. But, in any case, coaching from the
boat should, to a great extent, alternate with in-
spection from the bank. So long as an oarsman is
practising in a “gig” boat this is easy enough.
When he progresses to a light boat, towards the end
of his training, an occasional paddle in a gig pair is
the only substitute. The variation of view from one
motion of the body to another throws much light
upon faults and their causes, and opens the coach’s
eyes. Especially in deciding between the merits of
two men for a place in a boat, it is as advisable to have
an inspection from boat as from bank.

9. In coaching an eight or four, the time of the
oars, unless there is some very glaring discrepancy,
is best left for the coxswain to remark upon, as he is
better placed for observation, and also sets the coach
free to note other matters. At the same time, the
6 OARS AND SCULLS.

tracing of cause, (the coxswain having noted the
effect,) and the explanation how to cure the fault,
should come from the coach.

10. Though bad workmen are always prone to
grumble with their tools, the coach should not turn a
deaf ear to complaints of discomfort or awkwardness
of work until he has carefully inspected, or even per-
sonally essayed, the seat in the boat in question. A
large proportion of faults may be traced to the boats
or oars which tyros use. They aretoo often set down
to row in some worn-out craft from a boat-yard—row-
locks worn and grooved, oars screwed and sprung—
and are blamed for awkwardness, rowing deep, screw-
ing, &c. A finished oarsman will at once detect errors
in his tools; the tyro cannot; he can only blunder
and grumble. Meantime, having accommodated him-
self to circumstances during his earlier lessons, he
often contracts from such craft faults which might
have been obviated from the first by due inspection.
More depends upon this than many coaches imagine.
They may scold for a.month, where five minutes’ ex-
amination and trial of a pupil’s seat and oar would
have at once traced the evil and produced the remedy.
Even when a tyro makes no complaint, it by no means
follows that his work is well laid out. He may be
diffident and painstaking, unwilling to complain, or,
from having “accommodated himself to circum-
stances” in bad boats previously, may be more at
home with his bad work than with it properly laid
out. Especially if he has been rowing with too lew
a rowlock, and in a rolling boat, and still more if he
has a sluggish recovery, is he certain to set his
stretcher too long, to enable himself to clear his
knees. In this point a coach should be obdurate and
autocratic. Not half the college-eight oars of a
season know what is the right length of stretcher for
themselves. Their tendency is to have it too long.
INTRODUCTORY. 7

A coach should arbitrarily regulate the stretchers,
and turn them a deaf ear to “I can’t.” The latter
phrase should have no existence in a pupil’s vocabu-
lary on the river.

11. Nor should the coach accept the fallacy of boat-
builders, that the work in a boat should be laid out
the same for a whole crew. It should be adapted to
each man’s rowlocks, more or less, as well as stretchers.
That coach will get most out of his men who can so
regulate their work. It is preposterous to suppose
that 6ft. 2in. men should row in the same boat as a
5ft. 6in. man. Yet builders, though they concede a
variation of stretcher, ignore that of rowlocks. The
latter should vary slightly, according to the height of
the man in the boat, and according to the slope of his
shoulders ; also, in some cases, even according to his
style. For though theoretically there is but one per-
fect style of rowing, yet practically variations of
physique do to some extent modify style in the indi-
vidual, and, with it, demand modifications of work.
Details of work, and the best plan of laying it out,
will occupy a subsequent chapter.

12. There should be only one voice at a time on the
bank, nor should the coach be changed, if possible,
when a crew has once embarked in training. He who
has watched the river from day to day is the best
judge of the progress or deterioration of individuals,
and as different coaches essay to explain and correct
the same fault by different method and analogy, the
variation often confuses rather than enlightens the
pupil. One coach may undo the work of another,
though each, if left to carry out his own system,
could do well enough. Were all coaches omniscient
and omnipotent, one would do as well as another; but
so long as they are mortal, each is best left to carry
out his own system of instruction, unless an im-
portant change for the better can be found. At the
8 OARS AND SCULLS,

same time, a coach will find that he himself gains
hints from the occasional inspection of a fellow-
labourer who will communicate his views and obser-
vations to him, even though the latter be confessedly
the less experienced mentor. A coach, like his crew,
ig apt to run too much in one groove, to let certain
points escape his observation, to lay so much stress
upon some crying fault, that he blinds himself to
some minor evil. Of the two, the regular coach will,
of course, know far more about his crew than the
casual comer. The latter may note that the coach
has not found fault all day with a man who commits
some error. The explanation may be that the coach
is, for all that, watching the man, believes that he is
daily improving, and that he is conscious of his own
fault, and gradually remedying it. Yet, per contra, a
casual coach will hardly ever visit a crew without
being able to “spot” some point worthy of obser-
vation to which the regular coach is unconsciously
blind, till it is thus brought to his notice. And the
point may be one which in another crew the regular
coach, as an interloper, would be the first to observe.
Such is the result of stereotyped actions from day to
day.

To standard coaches, whose names are household
words, these observations will be as coals to New-
castle. Yet inasmuch as their task is rather to take
in hand finished oars for important races, not having
time to teach tyros ab initio, and whereas the ranks of
amateurs are greatly recruited by cadets taught at
first only by oarsmen who, to tyros, are comparatively
proficients, yet ave themselves lacking much tuition
ere they could attain Henley or Putney form, these
introductory remarks may not be out of place. De-
tails of form, style, principles, faults, and remedies,
will occupy subsequent chapters.
CHAPTER IL

COACHING A TYRO FROM FIRST PRINCIPLES.

A a16 slightly outrigged is the best in which to teach
an utter tyro, unless one be found with considerably
more beam than the ordinary length of an oar in-
board. Ordinary in-rigged gigs have but little to
spare between the thowl and the handle of an oar
when laid in the rowlock, and a beginner, who is at
all awkward with his elbows, or draws his button
away from the rowlock in recovering (a most probable
fault), stands in jeopardy of a knock on the funny-
bone or knuckles against the opposite thowl-pin,
which fidgets him nearly as much as a touch of the
splinter bar upon the hocks would a colt in harness.
The oar should be carefully examined by the coach.
It cannot be too good or too ‘“ true,” 7. e., lying square
in the rowlock. A good oarsman will adapt a bad
oar to circumstances, and still make it go true. A
tyro adapts circumstances to his oar, and moulds his
earliest style thereby. The oar should neither be
weak, or it will go deep, nor hog-backed (as builders
often turn them out for sake of stiffness), else it will
fly out of water till the strain has straightened it;
and, lastly, the loom should be true and square,
which is often not the case, and oarsmen puzzle to
know why they row deep with such an oar. The
rowlock also should be examined. In most hack gigs
the width between thowl and stopper is not sufficient,
and the oar “locks” to a full reach forward. Also,
10 OARS AND SCULLS.

if the rowlock has been used much, the upper part of
the thowl, instead of being flush and “ proud” (i. e.,
raking slightly forward), will often have a groove in
it, transverse to the perpendicular of the thowl,
especially where it has been used by one who feathers
at all under water. Into this groove the upper angle
of the loom of the oar lapses, and the blade slopes in
the water and sinks deep. Any such groove should
be filed away at the outset. Again, a weak iron often
gets pulled out of shape, the sill of the rowlock sinks
at the thowl end, the loom of the oar thus rows
up-hill, and the blade sinks too deep; or the button
gets worn, so that the outer flange of it no longer
presses against the thowl after the first grip, but
leaves it when the oar approaches its right angle to
the rowlock during the stroke. A careful coach will
inspect each of these details before starting, and
thereby save himself at least from the trouble of
preaching against the valid quantum of error of style
which they would engender.

Stretchers are, as a rule, made too perpendicular;
this alone, apart from the early difficulty of clearing
the knees, teaches beginners, if left to judge for
themselves, to set their stretchers too long, so that
the heel may reach the board without cramping the
flexor tendon of the foot that runs down the shin
bone. The coach should be arbitrary in fixing the
length of the stretcher, while the addition of a piece
of wood under the heels will remedy the fault of the
builder.

A beginner should learn with a rowlock one inch,
or more so, higher, compared with level of seat and
water, than would be his work in a racing boat.
When he has once learnt to clear his knees, and
avoid crabs it will be time to lower his work. At
the same time the rowlock should never be so high
COACHING A TYRO FROM FIRST PRINCIPLES. 11

as to throw the strain almost entirely upon the arms,
and to obviate use of the loins, as in a sea-boat. One
of the best amateurs of his day, now retired, swears
by a smooth oar handle; chacun a son godt; however,
in nine cases out of ten a rasped handle is most com-
fortable, strengthens the grasp, and saves blisters.

The stretcher strap should hold both feet, and it is
best if each foot is in a separate loop. Most boat-
builders disregard this, and even when building a
racing-boat seem to imagine that, though a man
uses both feet during the stroke, one will suffice to
aid his recovery. A beginner should learn in the
straps; such is my humble opinion, though I can
well remember that it used to be recorded as a
maxim when I first went to Oxford that a man should
learn and be capable of rowing without a strap. A
man who has rowed much should have developed
sufficient strength of abdominal muscle to enable
him to do ordinary gig rowing without a strap, and
yet not to double over his oar or to hang in recovery.
But till that muscle developes it is best to supply the
strap at all times, lest the beginner should learn to
meet his oar, or be unable to row the stroke out for
want of power of recovery from beyond the per-
pendicular. If, however, it is seen that he tries to
recover solely with the instep from the strap, and
not also with the muscles of abdomen, loins, and
thighs, his strap may in such a case be taken away
for a short time to compel him to use all muscles
requisite for a good recovery. The strap should be
tight enough to grasp the foot, instead of pinching
it. The coach will regulate this.

The seat in the boat, i. e., the way in which to sit in
a boat, requires careful inspection, and yet is one for
which a definite rule cannot well be laid down. Some
of the best oars sit almost on tiptail; some, per contra,
12 OARS AND SCULLS.

sit at least three, if not four inches on the seat.
Much depends upon the depth at which the hip is
set up the body, along the flank, and consequently
upon the play of the joint on the seat. A man must
regulate his seat to some extent according to his
make and shape; but if a nominal depth of seat is to
be laid down for a tyro it may be three inches for a
heavy weight to two and a half for a light weight.
But in any case the oarsman should sit square, as if
he were unconscious which side he was going to row.
His oar-handle should overlap the outside of his chest
about one inch (on a fixed seat, of which at present we
are speaking). If he sits square plants his feet square,
and sets his hands square, he will have no excuse for
not rowing square. The heels should be together;
the straps should allow of this, but the toes should
slope outwards, as in a dancing-master’s first position
of dancing.

More depends upon the grip of the oar than most
coaches are aware of. Half the faults in a crew may
often be traced to a faulty grasp.
A tyro is too often told to “take
firm hold of his oar,” and in im-
plicit obedience he clutches it as if
it were his worst enemy, which he
wishes to strangle (fig. 1). Now,
as the stroke is rowed through, the
angle of inflection of the wrist gra-
dually alters. At first the whole
arm and wrist are extended in a
straight line. When the arms begin to bend at
shoulder and elbow, towards the latter part of the
stroke, the wrist has to accommodate itself to the
flexion of the other joints, so that the knuckles and
palm may constantly remain in the same plane, and
with them the blade of the oar at the same constant

 

Fig. 1.— Wrong.
-

COACHING A TYRO FROM FIRST PRINCIPLES. 13

angle to the surface of the water. To effect this, the
wrist has to bend, not only perpendicularly, but also
laterally ; for the elbows, as they pass the ribs, are
wider apart than when extended at the commence-
ment of the stroke; and as the hands (as will be seen
presently) do not grasp the oar at a width apart equi-
valent to the width of the ribs, and have, moreover,
to keep always flat to the handle of the oar, the
angle of which to the body is constantly changing,
the angle of the wrist must vary also laterally as well
as perpendicularly; that is, the palm of the hand
must remain in a constant position, though the posi-
tion of the arms is inconstant, and the wrist is re-
sponsible for the arrangement.

If a man clenches his fist tight, and then tries to
shake his hand from the wrist, he will find the latter
joint cramped instead of limp, as required for the
operation. Again, if a man wishes to hang by his
hands from a bar, he will do so from the two upper
joints of his fingers, hardly bending the lower knuckle
joints at all. If he essay to clench the bar, he will
only cramp his grasp, and weaken his powers of sus-
pension. These two points will show the folly of
grasping the oar with the whole hand, and the im--
policy of using to a tyro the too common expression,
“ grasp your oar firmly,” as liable to misinterpreta-
tion. The hands should be placed upon the oar rather
less than a hand’s-breadth apart—about three inches
(not one to two inches, as one book authority teaches,
for that does not give play enough for the elbows to
finish close to the ribs, by use of the shoulder mus-
cles). Thus the two upper joints of the fingers should
perform the grasp, the lower joints being left nearly
straight. The hand should not hold the oar as if
squeezing a sponge. Then the thumb should close
and grip, but only so far as it can without compelling
14 OARS AND SCULLS.

the lower joints of the other finger to join in the
grasp. The latter joints should bend only so far as
to accommodate themselves to the
roundness of the oar; hardly at
all, in fact. The grasp thus at-
tained is quite strong enough for
all rowing purposes. The lower
part of the palm of the hand and
the ball of the thumb should not
touch the oar at all. The hands
will thus be in that position which

Fig. 2— Right. gives freest play to the wrist of any

grasp, and also in that in which
a man, if intending to hang his whole weight upon a
bar, such as the handle of his oar, would instinctively
adopt (fig. 2).

The absence of cramp in the grasp and the free
play to the wrist thus attained will facilitate the
action of the feather, and will, by enabling the oars-
man to accommodate his wrist without cramp or
hindrance, to the variations of angle of the other joints
of the arm, and of the oar-handle, keep him clear of
much of that want of command of oar and of rowing
deep which is the bugbear of beginners, and which is
to a great extent to be traced to the erroneous manner
in which they are taught to “ grasp” their oars.

It is true that some men prefer to hold the thumb
of the outside hand over the oar, instead of under-
neath it, but there ought to be no choice in the
matter; both thumbs should be underneath (in row-
ing). Any other hold of the oar is a fault. One
text-book on rowing enunciates a dangerous theory,
which, putting the most charitable construction upon
it, not of unorthodoxy, but of ambiguity, is liable to
various misinterpretations by beginners. The au-
thority in question says, © The outside hand does the

 
COACHING A TYRO FROM FIRST PRINCIPLES. 15

greater share of work in the bare pulling.” If it is
meant by this that the outside hand should exercise
the greater pressure upon the oar, the doctrine is
prima facie wrong. A man who tried so to do would
. screw, and could not row with his whole force. Both.
hands, both arms, both shoulders, each loin, both legs
and feet, should bear an equal strain throughout the
stroke. The physical exertion of each side of the
body, and of the members belonging to it, should be
equal while rowing the stroke through. But though
the physical strain is equal to both hands, it is true
that the mechanical power of that hand which is far-
thest from the fulcrum is the greater of the two. In
that sense the outside hand does most work, in that its
work, though equal to that of the others, is expended
to greater advantage. Assuming this to be the mean-
ing of the text in question, no greater censure need
be passed upon it than that of dangerous ambiguity.

We have said that the oarsman should sit square.
His shoulders should be set well back and stiffened.
Any attempt to stretch them as he reaches out, and
so to add to his reach, loses more than it gains.
Without entering into anatomical reasons, it is well
known to every rowing man that the shoulders so
stretched lose rigidity, and stretch still more under
the strain of the strokes, and the tautness of the grip
of the water is marred.

But when an oarsman is told to reach out “ square,”
it after all comes to reaching as square as he can,
and that is all. The best form that ever rowed always
“gave” a little, however little, to the side on which
he rowed. From a front view his shoulders would
look square enough, but from behind it would be
seen that the two shoulders were not quite in the
same position, for the arm of the one is stretched
away from, and the other across the body, to follow
16 OARS AND SCULLS.

the arc of the oar-handle at the commencement of the
reach. But this concession, that absolute sculptural
squareness is not to be looked for in the reach for-
ward, must not be taken as any excuse for bending
one shoulder or rowing across the boat—too common
a fault with many good oars, sevens especially, when
they have rowed long in the same place, and have
learnt to keep the head to one side, to follow the
back of stroke, who does not sit opposite to them.
But of this more in detail in a subsequent chapter.
Cushions are now almost obsolete, and even those
who once swore by a new wash-leather cushion to
row upon, do not now lament the abolition. True,
the seat is harder, but though, till the bones get
accustomed to it, that is rather uncomfortable, the
“raws” that used to be the bugbear of so many
practical oars when rowing in a rolling boat are now
seldom complained of. Moreover, by sitting lower
without cushions the tyro is enabled to row with a
lower rowlock, and to lower also his centre of gravity,
and therewith to reduce the propensity to roll. - A

wet cushion would draw and rub raw even a man who

on a dry one never encountered a “raw,” and in a
sow’-wester round Nuneham Island, or at Putney in
Corney Reach, the steadiest eight would ship enough
water to saturate every cushion on the side nearest
the outrigger against which the water sluiced into
the boat. For these reasons it is as well nowadays
to teach a tyro from the first upon bare boards, and
before long the practice of bruising will wear off,
while that of raws will hardly, if ever, be ex-
perienced. Having thus far explained the prior
arrangements of seatingthe tyroin aboat, and teaching
how to hold his oar, the next chapter will detail the
best way of setting him to work, supposing him
never to have had an oar in his hand before.
{17}

CHAPTER III.

COACHING A TYRO—REACH—FINISH—FEATHER.

So far a tyro has been taught to sit in a boat, and to
hold his oar. If he does these two preliminaries
squarely and properly, he starts fair to swing squarely
and to use each limb of his body evenly when he
commences to row.

The usual manner in which an utter beginner is
taught to row is by setting an experienced oarsman
in front of him, and telling him to copy his action,
admonishing at the same time each error as exhibited
by the beginner in his attempts to copy his model.
With all due deference to generally received prac-
tice, this does not seem the speediest way of incul-
cating the first things which a tyro has to learn, viz.,
the use of his back and legs as the main machinery
in rowing the stroke. A man who has never rowed
has been accustomed to use his arms, and arms only,
for all purposes of moving or controlling heavy
weights, and accordingly the first instinct of the be-
ginner in rowing is to attempt to mowe the oar with
his arms. The use of his back, loins, and legs with
him is only secondary, unless, which is unlikely, he
has been in the habit of driving a heavy-pulling four-
in-hand team. The use of the arms in rowing is too
natural not to come sooner or later, when once called
into play, and a tyro learns quickest how to make
most use of those parts of his frame in which his
greatest strength lies, if taught at first to move his

c
18 OARS AND SCULLS.

oar without any action of the arms, simply from his
back and loins. Again, the muscle most commonly
used to bend the arms, and to draw them into the
body when a weight is attached to them, in ordinary
pursuits, is the biceps, the ne plus ultra of novelists and
those who do not understand rowing and athletics
generally. The man who finishes his stroke by aid
of the biceps infallibly dog-ears his elbows, and sticks
them out at right angles to his ribs, giving a weak
as well as a cramped and ugly finish. The stroke
should be finished with the shoulders and the muscles
that work them, and the biceps should be passive
throughout the stroke. The best way to make a man
use his shoulders instead of his biceps is to accustom
him to feel a strain upon the former. Therefore,
having got a beginner on his seat, and having taught
him how to hold his oar, let him be made to reach
well forward, with the boat at a dead pull—no “way”
upon it—and then to row a stroke solely with body
swinging and legs driving against the stretcher.
The arms need not at first be bent at all, but kept
out rigid, like taut ropes coupling the body to the
oar. The heavier the boat is at this period the more
will the beginner appreciate the novel use of his legs
and loins, from the resistance to them. An extra
sitter in the boat is a gain in this respect. If the
boat runs too light, and the oar comes too easily
through the water, the pupil finds no resistance that
his arms cannot easily overcome, and at once in-
stinctively tries to do his work with them. Besides,
by thus keeping the arms rigid, the oar is sure, if
truly held at first, to remain square in the rowlock, so
that there is no rowing deep, a fault that is sure to
result if the arms are at once called into play before
the wrist has learnt to accommodate itself to the
variation of angle referred to in the previous chapter.
COACHING A TYRO—REACH—FINISH—FEATHER. 19

After a few minutes’ body work of this sort the
finish of the stroke with the shoulders may be ex-
plained, and copied by the pupil from the model in
front of him. But from day to day, as the lesson
commences, a few body strokes, with rigid arms,
should be rowed to start with, to recall the use of the
loins, till the pupil has learnt thoroughly to depend
upon that part for the strain of the stroke. If the
coach has to deal with a half-taught pupil, whose
fault is too lavish a use of his arms, a few such
strokes as this, enforced with rigid arms, will go far
towards throwing new light upon the subject, and
teaching him how to make right use of his body.

Next, to teach the finish. Let that be taught
separately. Let the pupil be shown the proper ac-
tion, and made to copy it without an oar in his
hands; by setting his arms out straight in front of
him, knuckles uppermost, then swinging them in to
his chest by use of the shoulder muscles, bending the
elbow joint as the arms come in, so as to keep the
hands in the same plane, till the root of the thumb
strikes the chest. Having copied the action properly
for a few times, let him sit upright on his seat,
repeat the same with the oar in his hand, and not
passing through the water at first. Subsequently let
him row the finish only, of a stroke in the water,
without feathering, but dropping his hands after the
chest is touched. When he has done this cleanly,
let the two parts of the stroke be put together. A
pupil who has begun in this fashion will be using his
body and finishing with square elbows days and
weeks before another who has simply been told to
“copy a model,” and who has from the outset sought
to do his work with the ““ handiest ” part of his frame,
the arms.

The feather is the last thing to be learnt, and will
20 OARS AND SCULLS.

be acquired all the more accurately in the long run
for being made a separate piece of tuition, and not at
first attempted simultaneously with the rest of the
stroke. The second or third day’s lesson will be time
enough for this stage. During the earlier lessons
the pupil will have been taught to drop his hands at
the end of the stroke, so as to clear the water; and,
inasmuch as in the feather the drop should come
before the turn to avoid feathering under water, the
proper sequence of the different actions will be best
inculcated from the commencement by the order of
the lessons. As each new detail is studied, the pupil
will be taught to add it to what he has acquired
before, till the whole stroke has been taught. The
feather, like the finish, is quickest taught by com-
mencing without an oar in the hand, studying the
action only at first; that is, it is by this means most
speedily acquired in a clean and perfect shape. If
taught all at once faults may creep in from misap-
preciation of the manipulation, which may take days
or even months to eradicate. The thumb at its base
should be the part of the hand which strikes the
chest at the conclusion of the stroke, knuckles being
uppermost; the stroke thus is rowed in the water to
the last. Then the hands should drop sharply about
two inches and a half, the base of the thumb still
touching the chest, and then, when by this means the
~ oar has been raised edgeways like a knife out of the
water, the turn of the wrist should take place. A few
minutes’ practice of the action, slowly, with a stick
held in the hand instead of an oar, at first, will ex-
plain and define the action. Then the three motions
—the touch on the chest, the drop, and the turn—
can be accelerated in their sequence till they approach
the style of an ordinary feather. Then the same
should be repeated with the oar in the hands, only
COACHING A TYRO—REACH—FINISH —FEATHER. 21

just rowing the last foot of the stroke, till the
motion becomes handy. A quarter of an hour spent
by the coach in this manner will save ten times
the waste of time in subsequent crabs and scoldings.
Too much attention cannot be paid to a neat and
clean feather, the oar coming out of the water edge-
ways, and hands dropped before they are turned.
If the hands are turned before dropped, the oar is.
turned in the water, and when the hands drop it is
pushed up flatways through the water. The re-
sistance of the element causes a strain upon the sill of
the rowlock, and tends to drag the boat down on that
side. Half the faults in rowing may be traced to a
feather under water ; the boat, if alight one, is made
to roll thereby, and the form in turn is cramped by
unsteadiness. Again, the oar does not come off the
chest so freely when encountering resistance in the
water by being brought out flatways, so that recovery
. is hampered instead of being elastic. Then, if a man
thus hangs at the chest, he wastes time, and has to
rush forward in his swing to make up his lost ground.
This spoils his swing, and taxes his endurance by the
extra exertion of the “ bucket ” forward, and probably
throws him out of time into the bargain. Last of all,
the resistance of the oar against the water, when
forced out flat instead of edgeways, more or less
backs water, and stops the way of the boat. If coaches
would pay more attention to curing faults of feather
they would have fewer other faults to reform in those
under their charge. In the same way that a few dis-
tinct “body” strokes should during early lessons
commence the day’s practice, so also should a minute
or two of practice of the action of the feather without
rowing, to recall the knack before settling down to
work. Time thus spent will be time gained.

A textbook on rowing (already referred to as con-
22 OARS AND SCULLS.

taining erroneous definitions and doctrines) gives the
following pernicious and self-contradictory definition
of a feather :— The oar should be brought straight
home to the chest, the knuckles touching the body
about an inch or less below
the bottom of the breast-
bone, where the ribs branch
off; thus every inch of water
is made use of. When there
the hands should be drop-
ped,” &c. This definition
is wrong, in the use of the
word “knuckles” (fig. 3).
Tt is, as explained above,
the root of the thumb that
Fig SoH homed beers = © shonldfiest touch the chest.
stave If the knuckles touch the

chest before the drop, one of two faults must have
happened. Either the oar at the moment the knuckles
reach the chest is in the water, oris out of it; if in the
water, then the action of touching the chest with the
knuckles has turned it in the water, it is feathered
under water; or if the oar is not in the water, the hands
have been lowered from their original plane before the
oar reached the chest, so as to elevate the oar from the
water; in that case the last part of the stroke, more
or less, has been rowed in the air, not in the water,
and thus every inch of water is not made use of; and
if the oar is thus out of the water already, a further
drop is superfluous. The test of a clean feather is
the touch of the root of the thumb first against the
chest; this ensures that at least the oar has remained
square to the end of the stroke; and if the hands
preserve the same plane till after the chest has heen
thus touched, the oar will remain not only square,
but in the water to the last, and therefore doing

 
COACHING A TYRO —REACH—FINISH—FEATHER. 23

work. The drop instantaneously elevates it from the
water, and the turn which follows completes the
feather (fig. 4). However rapidly the three actions
follow in quick rowing and recovery, still, upon analy-
sis, the sequence should al-
ways be that here defined.
It is a common thing for a
coach to attempt to teach
rapidity of feather by tell-
ing his pupil to turn and
drop his hands “sharp and
together,” something in the
style of the text-book here
quoted, hence the two mo-
tions get confused, and too
often transposed, the result
being a feather under Fig. 4.—Hands dropped before
water, or at best, a waste tamer (igh)

of some of the finish in the air. When the hands
work the motion quickly the eye will not detect, by
merely watching the hands, any transposition or
amalgamation of the motion, but a glance at the oar
will answer the question. 1. If the oar is feathered
perfectly it comes out like a knife, leaving a small
swirl where it has made its exit. 2. If a sort of
feathery sheet of water runs off the blade as it leaves
the water, it is feathered under water, the hands have
turned while the oar is still in the water, and the oar,
coming up spoonways, empties its contents as it
reaches the surface. 8. If the oar throws a slop of
water aft as it leaves the water, the stroke is finished
in the air, and a gradual drop of the hands has taken
place before the hands reach the chest. That drop
has come too soon, the hands have not preserved
their plane. Many good oars are, nevertheless, to be
seen who neither feather under water nor throw up a

 
24 OARS AND SCULLS.

fountain after, and yet touch the chest first with the
knuckles, and not the thumb. What they do is this,
they complete in empty air, an inch or so before they
touch the chest, the evolutions which they should
perform touching the chest; they do these in the
proper order, but too soon, thus they have the hands
dropped and oar feathered before the hands reach the
chest, and consequently, the last few inches or so of
the journey of the blade are performed edgeways in
the air. This loss of work may be too infinitesimal to
be worth fussing a man about so long as he feathers
clean. At the same time a tyro had better be taught
in the way above described, for thus not only will he
not waste even these odd inches of stroke, but also by
making a rule of touching his chest with the base of
the thumb he will have and exhibit a distinct test of
clean feather, instead of a guess-work arrangement
of the motions of the wrist in empty air. In the
above quotation from the text-book alluded to, men-
tion is made of a distinct spot to which the oar should
be brought on the chest. This is wrongly put as a
piece of coaching. The hands should be brought in
to whatever part of the chest is at the moment of the
finish in the plane in which they started, and in
which they should have remained through the stroke,
so as to preserve an even depth of the oar. If a man
finds out a spot on his chest not in that plane, he
must at the finish raise or lower his blade to the
wrong level in order to touch that spot. But it
should be the care of the coach to see that the work
is so placed, that when the oarsman is back at the
finish of the stroke the handle of the oar should be
at the bottom of the breast-bone. But a direction to
a coach, such as this, becomes mischievous if directed
to an oarsman himself, who must finish as his work
leads him, and-not as he listeth. The erroneous views
COACHING A TYRO—REACH—FINISH—FEATHER. 25

in the text-book in question are here criticised and
exposed at length, not only to correct misapprehen-
sion and mischief, which they may have dissemi-
nated, but further, because it is possible that the same
mistaken definition which has suggested itself to one
adviser may spontaneously be adopted by others when
coaching, unless anticipated and disproved. So far
we have analysed the body work, arm work, and wrist
work of the stroke separately. The combination of
the three, and the recovery after the stroke, will
occupy another chapter.
“wr

26 OARS AND SCULLS.

CHAPTER IV.
USE OF THE LEGS—RECOVERY—CATCH OF THE
WATER.

So far we have analysed each of the motions of the
body, arms, and wrist, from the time when the water
is first laid hold of at the commencement of the
stroke up to that instant when the hands have turned
at the chest, and have feathered the oar after it has
quitted the water. When the pupil comes to put
these three motions together he will have got a com-
plete stroke. Hitherto we have said nothing about
the use of the legs, though they play a most impor-
tant part in the strength of the stroke—and for this
reason, that the legs, after all, are only used because
the body is used; and, if a beginner is urged at once
to specially use his legs, before he has acquired some
use of his body, the chances are that he uses his legs
too soon, at the wrong time, and in the wrong place.
He will not, because thus not especially urged to use
his legs at first, row as if he had no such limbs; in-
stinctively he will use them from the outset, if taught
to commence with mere “body ” strokes, such as de-
scribed in the last chapter. And when he has begun
to appreciate the use of his body, and to depend upon
it as the main motive power in the stroke, he then
can be taught to apply extra power with his feet at
the right time, to increase the power and swing of
the body. But nothing is more invidious than to tell
a beginner, before he learns anything about a stroke,
USE OF THE LEGS—RECOVERY—CATCH OF WATER. a7

to “ kick against his stretcher.” If he does so, he is
sure to kick too soon, and simply to push himself
back on his seat before he has got his oar in the
water. The legs instinctively stiffen themselves
against the stretcher the instant that the body feels
the strain of the oar. They should be kept in this
rigid posture, supporting the body throughout the
stroke. This rigidity should commence at the in-
stant the oar touches the water, and the strain begins
to fall upon the shoulders; not sooner, or the seat is
shifted ; not later, or the tension of the body slackens
for want of support; a passive resistance, co-exten-
sive with the strain upon the body, and depending
upon it, commencing and ending simultaneously with
it; not a gratuitously aggressive movement, inde-
pendent of the body (a fault, which at this moment
characterises so large a proportion of amateur oars-
men). When, therefore, a pupil has begun to utilise
his swing, if it is seen that he does not back up that
swing sufficiently with the use of his legs, he should
be told to make full use of the latter, and that use
should be fully explained to him—(1) As to its rigi-
dity, and (2) as to its co-extension with the strain on
the body. The old and time-honoured formula of
lifting oneself off the seat with simultaneous use of
oar and stretcher, is the best and simplest explana-
tion to a beginner. The lift of the body can only be
obtained by simultaneous use of the handle of the oar
and of the stretcher; neither strain can in such a case
be put on one instant before the other, or there would
be no lift. At the same time it must be explained
that the legs, while thus supporting the body, do so
passively—rigidly—not with any extension of the
legs (on a fixed seat). The more simultaneous the
rigidity of the legs to the strain on the body, the
greater the power of the stroke. A faulty use of legs
28 OARS AND SCULLS.

consists of—(1) Not sufficient pressure of the feet, or
(2) if pressure, not contemporaneous with swing;
(3) if pressure and contemporaneous, still not with
rigid joints. But though the legs are thus rigid in
their action, i. e., do their best to keep rigid, the knees
“ play” up and down a little, and their increase or
diminution of flexion to a small extent, and in a cer-
tain manner, is no sign of an improper or unrigid use
of the legs. It is simply due to the reason that every
man, even on a fixed seat in the boat, rows more or
less on an (internal) sliding seat; that the bones of
the thigh move fore and aft slightly, with each swing
of the body, through their covering of flesh, and the
motion of the knees is only the result of the instinc-
tive accommodation of the muscles to this slight
movement of the basis of operations, while they main-
tain meantime the rigid pressure or prop of the feet
against the stretcher to support the action of the
body. While thus acquiring the proper action of the
the legs—at the right instant of time—the pupil’s
stretcher should be set about an inch longer than
would be used by a more experienced oarsman of the
same size, on the same principle that his rowlock, as
explained previously, should be a trifle higher, so as
to avoid all fouling of the knees, till he has acquired
some command of recovery and watermanship. When
he has attained that, his work and stretcher will be
reduced to the ordinary lengths at which a practical
oar can make most mechanical use of his physical
strength.

‘When one stroke has been rowed out, the next step
is to get forward into the position in which to row
another. Much of the value of subsequent strokes
depends upon the manner in which the recovery after
the stroke is effected. It must be borne in mind that
the set of muscles weakest in proportion to the task

 
USE OF THE LEGS—RECOVERY—CATCH OF WATER. 29

required of them in rowing are those of the abdomen.
In rowing a race they are the first to fail. It is
harder to carry the body forward with them, with the
oar feathered, against air, than to drive the body
back with muscles of loins, &c., when the oar is
square against the water. The result of such exhaus-
tion is “rowing short,” which is owing, not to such
weakness of the loins, &e., that the oarsman, if once
forward, could not row the stroke through still, but
to the failing powers of his abdominal muscles, which
become unequal to the task of carrying him forward
to repeat the stroke. Bearing this in mind, it will be
seen that before aman can be of usein a race he must
not only develope by exercise those muscles of the
abdomen which hitherto have never been thus called
into play, but must also learn to economise them, and
to use such strength as they possess to the very best
advantage. The first thing, therefore, that has to be
learnt is to get the hands off the chest, and the arms
extended in front of the body as rapidly as possible.
Not only does the action give an impetus to the swing
of the body, facilitate its motion forward, and open
the chest for respiration, but also the position with
arms thus extended is that in which a man with such
ease pushes away any resisting object in front of him.
Let this be shown practically to the pupil. If he
wants to push away a man from in front of him with
the weight of his body, but his arms intervening and
being the means of contact between himself and the
other man, he will find that he uses the weight of his
body forward to better advantage if he pushes with
straight than if with bent arms. This will teach him
the importance of doing as much as he can of the
work of carrying his oar back for the next stroke
with straight arms.

This action of shooting out the hands from the
30 : OARS AND SCULLS.

chest and of extending the arms should be rapid for
the reasons above shown, but its rapidity should con-
sist of elasticity, and absence of loss of time at the
chest, rather than in any hurried rush. The process
of reversing the machinery instantaneously, of
quickly bringing into play muscles converse to those
which have just rowed the oar home to the chest, does
not come naturally to any one, and with some begin-
ners it is a matter of extreme difficulty. Yet it should
be overcome, else when the oarsman progresses to a
crew he will find himself out of swing with the rest,
compelled to rush at the last to make up for time lost
in the early part of the recovery, throwing himself
out of time and swing, and wasting his own strength
by “bucketing.” For this reason, as in other in-
stances, recovery of the hands is first made a separate
piece of practice. When the manipulation of the
feather is mastered, let the practice of it be extended
so as to include the shoot out of the hands from the
chest after the hands have dropped and turned the
oar. This will in time engender elasticity of recovery
of the hands, which should come off the chest like a
billiard ball from a cushion, not necessarily with a
rush, yet without a hang. However slow the stroke
‘may be, the hands should no sooner have completed
their feather than they should have bounded away.
The pace at which they leave the chest will depend
upon the relative speed of stroke, just as a billiard
ball leaves the cushion faster as it strikes it harder;
but whether it strikes hard or soft it never hangs on
its impact, and no more should the hands.

This system of breaking up the coaching of dif-
ferent details into distinct pieces of practice, though
not often attempted, will be found to gain in the end
far more time than it consumes. A musician who
bungles over one passage, practises it separately,
USE OF THE LEGS—RECOVERY—CATCH OF WATER 31

without repeating the whole piece, part of which is
done already with correctness. And with an oars-
man not only can the faulty piece of the stroke,
practised separately, be studied far oftener in a
limited time than if the whole stroke was appended,
but, further, if he has more than one fault, his atten-
tion may be competent to devote itself to the cure of
one only at a time ; and if he meantime repeats the
whole stroke, while thus curing one fault only, he
repeats the other faults which he has not yet time
to attend to, and so hardens himself in them before
the time comes when he can spare special attention
to them. Analytical coaching in detail such as re-
commended will soon prove its own advantages if
once essayed by a coach.

The body as well as the hands should be kept in
perpetual motion, like a pendulum, always swinging.
This should be carefully inculcated. The muscles of
the legs, thighs, and loins should all join with those
of the abdomen in the recovery, though necessarily
the greater strain falls upon the latter. The feet
also should draw the body from the strap by which
they are held; but if, as explained in a former
chapter, the pupil tries to do the entire work of
recovery from the feet, without using the loins and
legs to aid, the strap should be taken away for a
short time, and he should be taught to recover with-
out it; at first simple recovery, swinging to and fro
without rowing, and then a few lessons with the oar
without a strap, till he has learnt to use the mus-
cular power which he exacts. For the reason that
recovery is the weakest point in a man’s rowing, too
- much care cannot be taken to teach him to use all
the available resources he possesses in this direc-
tion.

A slight hang of either body or hands must entail
32 OARS AND SCULLS.

extra hurry sooner or later in the swing to make up
the lost time. All this causes exhaustion. No man
rowing a mile race would stop dead every hundred
yards, and then spurt to make up his lost ground,
yet half the oars on the Thames first hang and then
“ bucket,” or rush forward to get in time for the
next stroke. If a man hangs only one-tenth of a
second at his chest at forty strokes a minute, he
sits still four seconds per minute. The main stress
should be laid on the elasticity of the hands, for
without them the body cannot recover, except at
great waste of power. A man who tries to push his
oar forward with his body while his hands remain at
his chest, infallibly doubles over his oar as he goes
forward, his lungs are cramped, as well as his powers
needlessly taxed. Also, inasmuch as even on a fixed
seat the knees rise and fall a little with the swing,
the quicker they are cleared before they reach their
full altitude by a quick shoot out of the hands, the
less chance is there of fouling them, especially in
rough water, and the shorter need be the stretcher
used; thus adding to the physical power. The first
part of the recovery should be the most rapid. As
the end of the reach is approached, the pace of the
swing forward should slacken somewhat in propor-
tion. When the first part of the recovery is slow,
and the last part, therefore, of necessity a rush, the
result is to dip the stern of the craft, especially of a
light one. On the other hand, the longer the weight
of the body remains back, after motive power with
the oar has come to an end, the more is the ““ way” of
a boat stopped, while, per contra, an elastic recovery
facilitates it. The same principle may be seen in a
swing. If the body is thrown in the direction in
which the rope is travelling, the swing is diminished
in extent. It is increased if the body is thrown in

 
USE OF THE LEGS—RECOVERY— CATCH OF WATER. 33

the opposite direction to that in which the rope is
swinging. Hence, as a matter of pace as well as of
physical exertion, elasticity of swing is a gain.

As the stroke is about to be repeated the hands
must be raised sharply, just as the body commences
to throw itself back; thus no part of the stroke is
wasted in the air, which is commonly called  clip-
ping” the stroke. If a pupil shows a disposition to
clip, it is best at first to point out for a mark some
spot on the back of the man in front of him, at
which he should aim his hands, instead of diving
them down to the seat before him. But if this
remedy fails, a rough and ready one can be resorted
to in the shape of a rough piece of deal nailed on the .
top ‘of his stretcher for a short time. He will keep
his hands well up then to save his knuckles from
being barked by the contact.

The beginning of the stroke should be the most
forcible part, not only because the body is then at its
greatest physical advantage, but because a light boat,
if touched gently before the greatest force is applied,
slips away, and offers no satisfactory resistance to
the principal strain when attempted to be enforced.
This “ catch” should be a “drive” from the body, set
in motion by the action previously alluded to, as if
the whole body was to be lifted off the seat by the
joint support of oar and stretcher. But it is some-
times a delusion with oars that * striking ” the water
constitutes a “catch.” If so, then the more impetus
an oar can first obtain in air by “ clipping” before it
touches the water, the sharper will be its catch; and
this is just the exaggeration into which they fall.
But in that case the loss of area swept by the oar in
the water, the air being substituted for part of the
water, more than detracts from the gain of this force

D
34 OARS AND SCULLS.

in striking the water for what little reach is left to
be rowed. The Cambridge University Eight of 1865
was a memorable example of this delusion. The
sudden application of full strength to the oar in the
water without waste of motion in air is a question of
knack, which cannot be expected to be learnt at
once; but he who best acquires this knack will make
most use of his stroke, supposing the stroke to be,
moreover, well rowed through. Herein also is
another snare into which men often fall who study
a “catch,” regardless of its first principles. They
catch the water, it is true; but, having caught it, they
let it go again instead of carrying out the “drive”
thus commenced right home to the chest, with a good
swing back, the legs pressing rigidly the whole time.
In order to inculcate a good grip of the water, a
coach should always make his pupils endeavour to
make the oar drive faster through the water than it
passes through the corresponding distance in air.
The recovery, though thoroughly elastic, should,
especially towards its latter part, be slow, measured,
and massive, compared to the sudden and lightning
dash with which the motion should be reversed, and
the swing back: commenced with the new stroke.
“ Slow through the air, but no hang, and sharp
through the water,” should be his maxim, and this
relation of speed of stroke to recovery should be
rigidly maintained, even where the pace does not
exceed twenty-six strokes per minute. The slower
the swing forward the less exertion it causes, and
that exertion saved on the weakest set of muscles
can be expended on the strongest in driving the oar
through the water; and though such a “drive” is
individually more exhausting than a “draw,” it will
command so much more pace out of the boat that
the same speed can be obtained by a fewer number

’
USE OF THE LEGS—RECOVERY—CATCH OF WATER. 35

of “drives” per minute than of draws,” so that
the diminution in number of applications of power
per minute atones for the extra exertion required
to make them—quality more than makes up for quan-
tity.
36 OARS AND SCULLS.

CHAPTER V.

“ FORM,” AND ITS VALUE—THE DISTANCE OF THE
SWING BACK.

UP to this point no allusion has been made to details
of “form,” i. e., of the shape and style of the body in
rowing a stroke, or in recovering. And so far for
these reasons—first that, as said before, these chapters
are directed to coaches rather than to tyros them-
selves; and an ordinary club coach, even though
sometimes not quite clear as to the best method of
getting out of his head, for the benefit of his pupils,
what he has in it, is at least supposed to know what
“form ” consists of—an appearance which is palpable
to the greenest habitué of the river. And, secondly,
the reasons laid down heretofore, if carried out, will
result in good form; it is simpler, therefore, to have
explained the causes which will lead to good form,
rather than to have harped upon the mere effect
(form), which everybody is supposed already to
know and to appreciate. To be conscious of an
effect, or of its absence, does not necessarily imply
acquaintance with the causes that produce it, but
knowledge and analysis of these causes cannot but
produce experience of the effect when the causes
have been practically carried out.

Square shoulders, straight swing, elastic recovery,
absence of doubling up at the finish, and of hang,
and of bucket—all result as a matter of course if the
directions laid down in previous chapters are carefully
“FORM” AND ITS VALUE. 37

carried out. And, last of all, if the feet are placed
against the stretcher, with toes pointed apart, so as
to open the knees, and the strain of the stroke is
done from the loins and legs, the back is sure to do
its work with as straight an action as is natural to it.
We do not say absolutely straight in all instances,
but rather the reverse, if anything. Not more than
half, if so many, of the best oars of any generation
row with perfectly straight backs. Such a back has
the most taking appearance; it is the most telling
point (to a casual observer) of the “form” of the
oarsman, and for this reason undue stress is some-
times laid upon its value. It is of some value, but it
is by no means a sine qud non.

The values of a straight back are—1. That the
man who so rows must be swinging from his loins
only at the hips, and not from any point in the
middle of his back as a secondary pivot. 2. That
the straightness of the back to some extent eases the
respiratory organs. But it is not every back that
can naturally lie perfectly straight from hips to
shoulders when full forward. Much depends upon
the conformation of muscles, hips, and loins. Any
back can be perfectly straight when the body is
sitting upright, but unless it can remain thus straight
when at the full reach forward, and taxed with the
full strain of the oar, it is better that it should never
essay to lie straighter at any one time during the stroke
than it can from first to last. If it does, the result
of being straighter one time than at another is that
a separate swing is made during the stroke, from that
point where the bend takes place, to straighten it.
As the legs do not join on at the point of this bend,
the straightening must take place without their aid,
and consequently without power. The main strain of
the stroke must for the instant be relaxed to an
38 OARS AND SCULLS.

amount which the muscles of this part of the back
unsupported by legs can bear, so as to allow of this
straightening, and thus less work is done by straight-
ening the back completely, in time for the finish,
than if the stroke were rowed through with the back
bent as much at the end as it was at the beginning.
It will suffice if (1) the back is as straight as natural
conformation will allow of when the body is at full
stretch forward, and (2) if itis kept at the same bend,
neither further bent and straightened, up to the
finish. Stress is laid upon this, because so many
coaches lay an undue stress upon the necessity of a
straight back, confounding its use with its beauty.
They bully a man to straighten his back, and he,
doing his best to obey, straightens it at least towards
the end of the stroke, even if he has been physically
unable to straighten it at the first, when reaching
forward; or he sacrifices work and reach to preserve
a straight back, by not reaching out further, or strain-
ing his back more than he can do with due regard to
its straightness, the result being a loss of power
throughout the stroke. And, inasmuch as the value
of a straight back is use rather than ornament, let
the coach, while inculcating the merits of a straight
back, and placing his pupils at their work, so that a
straight back (if natural to them) shall result, be
then content to watch whether the work is done from
the loins, and not from a bend in the middle of the
back, and also whether the back maintains the same
normal position throughout the stroke as that with
which it commenced it. An artificially straight back
is one of the delusions of the day. Let it be natural
or be absent. One thing is clear, if a back is straight
from first to last, the work must have been done from
the loins; if it is bent, it may have been so done, but
in that case the back will have to be watched to see
THE DISTANCE OF THE SWING BACK. 39

that it neither gives nor takes while doing its work.
If it does neither give nor take, what is wanted is
acquired. The main desideratum after all is work,
to be done at the right time and in the right place,
and if the round-backed man does this better than
the straight-backed, he is the better man in a boat.
Of good oars, as said before, if half of them row
with straight backs, itis as much as they do. Of the
rest, the larger proportion row with a back slightly
rounded, but in the same arc throughout the rowing,
and a few actually row with backs as round as hogs’,
and yet are good oars in a boat. With these it is
true that some of them might, if carefully coached
from the outset, before their rowing muscles had
developed to a shape corresponding with the action
they had adopted, have finally rowed with straight or
straighter backs, and to have been even better men
than they are, but whether a round back is the even-
tual result of fault, or the original proclivities of
physical conformation when reaching forward, it
should not be allowed to prejudice the eyes of a coach
in his selection of a crew, if the work desired accom-
panies the round back. Of two choices, equal in
work and in the way in which it is done, one round
and the other straight in the back, the latter is in
such a case to be preferred, as being an easier model
from which the men rowing behind him can take up
time and swing. But this is all.

The distance to which the body should swing back
at the end of a stroke is a very open question, and
one which has always raised much controversy among
coaches. And for this reason, that in laying down a
rule for it they have been prone to define a normal
distance or angle to which all bodies alike should
swing back, instead of bearing in mind that the
exact regulation of the distance should depend upon
40 OARS AND SCULLS.

the make and shape and powers of recovery of the
pupil. Again, the manner in which a swing back is
effected is often deceptive as to the distance swung.
A straight back often appears to swing back further
than a round one, because the head and shoulders,
instead of being more or less slouched forward at the
finish, are erect, and in a direct line from the small
of the back, so that a perpendicular let fall from them
would fall further forward in the boat than one let
fall from a slouching head. But possibly in the
latter case the lower part of the back has swung
further back than in the former. It is only the for-
ward slouch of the shoulders that makes the distance
appear less. That man does his work (qud swing) to
best advantage whose body, when straight at the end
of the stroke, makes an angle of twenty-two and a
half degrees (one-fourth of a right angle), or even a
trifle more, with the perpendicular, the reach forward
having been full length. At the same time two things
have to be considered :—1. Whether the man is phy-
sically capable of maintaining this length of swing
back without sacrificing some of his reach forward.
2. Whether his powers of recovery are adequate to
the distance through which his body has to be re-
covered for the next stroke. If both questions can
be answered in the affirmative (not only for a short
row, but for permanent work and racing) he is a good
man. But because he is thus capable, it does not
follow that every man has similar powers. It will
suffice if the coach teaches his men at the outset to
swing back a trifle beyond the perpendicular, and lets
his further instructions in this respect depend upon
the powers of swing and recovery which he observes
in the individual as education progresses. An honest
oar, doing all the work he can, will soon swing back
all he can to get the most in his power out of the
THE DISTANCE OF THE SWING BACK. 41

stroke set to him. The coach must watch carefully
that a would-be hard worker does not delude himself
by substituting extra swing back for reach forward.
This view of a long swing back may find disfavour
with many authorities, for it is always held and
allowed that the first part of the stroke is the im-
portant part, and the latter is often supposed to be
but a mere adjunct. But it must be borne in mind
that though the body has most physical power at the
commencement of the stroke, it endures most ex-
haustion, as previously explained, in the recovery. If
recovery were an inexhaustible power, the most rapid
style of rowing would be = strokes per minute short,
the seat far from the work (or rowlock), and the oar
catching the water only just behind the rowlock,
leaving it almost as soon as it had passed it. * That
is why a short, quick “snatch” can often take a
lead at first in a race. But the demands of recovery
alter the whole position of affairs. It is found more
economical to recovery to swing well back, and to row
a fewer number of long strokes in one posture than
a larger amount of short ones in the posture just
described. And though in the long stroke, with work
as generally laid out, neither body nor oar exercises
during the average of the stroke, such power, physical
and mechanical, as it would in the other way, the
difference in exhaustion between many quick reco-
veries and freer and slower ditto more than compen-
sate before any great distance has been traversed.
For this reason an extra swing back (though the work
done is not at such physical and mechanical ad-
vantage at the finish as if a new stroke had meantime
been commenced) gains by lengthening the stroke,
and so by reducing the pace of stroke and speed of
recovery, more than it loses. A second consideration
is, that the greatest physical power takes place at
42 OARS AND SCULLS.

one time in the stroke, and the greatest mechanical
in another. The greatest mechanical power is when
the oar is at right angles to the rowlock. “Work”
is not placed at the same distance in all boats, but
more or less in all the arms have begun to bend to
row the stroke into the chest almost as soon as the
oar has passed the right angle to the rowlock. Though
the body should continue to swing back till the arms
overtake it and the oar reaches the chest, yet from
the instant that the elbow-joint begins to bend the
stroke greatly decreases in physical power. Yet this
diminution of physical power takes place at a time
when the mechanical power of the oar is greater
than it was at the commencement of the stroke. The
further the body swings back, the lateris it necessary
for the arms to commence their bend, and conse-
quently a greater amount of that work at which the
mechanical power of the oar is greater, and is done
with still rigid arms, and with use of the body and
loins. This last point is too much overlooked, and
many oarsmen of practical experience have often
been heard to say that though there is no denying
that the body is weaker at the end than at the be-
ginning of the stroke, there is also no denying that a
long swing back materially adds to the pace of a boat.
Still more is this exemplified in sculling, of which
more later on. The explanation is that above given,
that the arms are thereby enabled to be kept straight
for a longer period, and at a critical time in the
mechanical work of the stroke.

In teaching a man to swing back he should be told
to hold his head well up. The weight, if thrown
back, assists his swing, while if hanging forward it
acts in a contrary direction. A very common fault
of beginners is to be constantly looking at their
chests, as if to see that they are well opened at the
THE DISTANCE OF THE SWING BACK. 43

finish. It is like a man looking round in a glass to
see if his coat fits him behind. Even if it did fit
him before, the shape is disordered the moment he
turns his head and neck to reconnoitre himself. He
does best to allow some other person to inform him
of the fit while he holds himself straight; and so
with an oarsman—if he wants to make sure that his
chest is open, let him hold up his head and trust to
being told, at least, if it is not then open. While on
the subject of not holding the head up, a word of
caution to strokes of racing crews may not be out of
place. The habit of keeping a watch on the stretcher
to time the pace of stroke (thus to form an estimate
of what amount of exertion represents a certain pace
of stroke, for guidance when racing), often tends to
make them carry their heads forward as a matter of
habit. If this fault is noticed in a seasoned oar, it
may be assumed, in the majority of cases, as a safe
guess that he learnt the trick some time or another
from looking constantly at a watch on his stretcher.
But inasmuch as a prone head hampers swing and
cramps finish, and a stroke’s style is more or less
transmitted to the crew behind him, a warning on
this subject will not be out of place. There is no
need to carry the head constantly forward in order to
count: a casual glance at a watch on the stretcher
will give all the information required.
44 OARS AND SCULLS.

CHAPTER VL

CHOOSING AND PLACING A “JUNIOR CREW.”

WHEN tyros have reached a certain state of progress,
they may be expected to aspire to a seat in a race of
some description. After all, the pains expended upon
them have not been, as far as the coach has been
concerned, simply to give them a practical knowledge
for paddling up and down a river on pleasure excur-
sions; the ulterior aim has been to make them of
essential use in a racing craft. It is with the selec-
tion and management of a crew for a race that the
most arduous responsibilities of a coach commence.
He has to judge not only present facts but future
contingencies, and to base his decisions upon a com-
bination of the two. Especially does this doctrine
bear upon the selection of crews for University and
college races. London crews are, as a rule for im-
portant races, composed of such seasoned oars,
already thoroughly au fait at watermanship, that in
nine cases out of ten the eight men who would be
best on the future day of the race would also be the
best on the day of selection at the commencement of
training, except so far as ©“ condition ” is concerned.
But in the Universities, oars come and go so rapidly.
merit is hardly attained before residence ends, and
the vacant ranks have to be filled with recruits.
These recruits are often but in a half-developed stage
of oarsmanship when they join a crew, and hence, in
selecting such a crew, a coach has to judge, not only
CHOOSING AND PLACING A “JUNIOR CREW.” 45

who are the best men at the moment, in itself not
always an easy choice, but further, who seem likely
to make the best men by the day of the race, allowing
for the time still before them.

In the case of a raw crew, the choice of a seven is,
anomalously, even more important than that of a
stroke: i. e., if there is only one seasoned and steady
oar in the lot, he will do more good at seven than at
stroke. Behind a stroke inferior to himself he will
be able at least to form a nucleus of steadiness, to
which the rest of the crew may rally; but if the
places of these two were transposed, the style of the
more finished oar at stroke would be wasting its
sweetness if the seven behind him rowed like a pair
of scissors with him. In forming a raw crew, such
as an Oxford “torpid,” with some weeks still to in-
tervene before racing commences, the coach need not
be careful from the outset to place his men in the
seats which, according to their size, they would
occupy if the race were imminent. He should place
them where they will best learn their duties for the
seats they are eventually destined to fill. * Trim,”
that may be important later on when racing com-
mences, is at the outset less important than time and
swing. If, therefore, the future five or four has less
idea of swing than three or two, they should respec-
tively change places till within a fortnight of the race,
by which time the heavy weights will be, from having
had greater advantages of studying time and swing,
all the fitter to fill their eventual seats, and those
who would otherwise have been rowing behind them
will not meantime have been thrown out by irregu-
lar swing before it has been corrected. Stress is
laid on this matter because too commonly a crew is
made up in its future places from the moment that
practice commences. Even supposing that the eight
46 OARS AND SCULLS.

men thus commencing practice will be the same for
the race, this policy is shown to be questionable. In-
asmuch as there are more middle-weight oars than
heavy-weight, it stands to reason that, at least till
the heavies have been thoroughly polished, the middie
weights will produce from their larger numbers more
men capable of good time and swing than the heavies.
This is constantly visible in raw crews. The lighter
weights are rowing in fair form, the heavier are “all
over the place;” yet the latter are always placed in
the heavy-weight seats long before they are wanted
to race in them. Were they transposed, as sug-
gested, both heavies and lights would improve more
rapidly.

If both a coach and a stroke of similar calibre can
be found, the task of the seven will be much sim-
plified. He will have not only a model, but a man to
back up that model, and to transmit his style to the
rest of the crew. In default, the coach must often
take stroke’s place (or get some proficient who can)
for a short time. This is chiefly for the benefit of
the stroke in futuro, and he, therefore, should be
sometimes in these cases shifted to seven, that he
may get an idea of the desired style from rowing
behind it, and sometimes turn out on the bank, that
he may study his model in profile.

In handling a very raw crew, such as described, the
coach will be continually surprised to note the dis-
proportion of improvement in various members of
his crew, and will often find that a man, who was
perhaps his last choice in the boat at starting, soon
earns a seat of importance towards the stern, while
another, whom at one time he looked upon as his
mainstay, may remain in statu quo of merit through-
out practice.

Inasmuch as there is always a larger field of
CHOOSING AND PLACING A ‘‘ JUNIOR OREW.” 47

middle weights for choice than of heavy weights, yet
the latter ones, once got into shape, are the more
valuable, a coach should not be afraid, early in prac-
tice, to put into his crew some welter, of whose chance
of ultimately reaching the required standard before
the race he is most sceptical. He may give him a
chance, and see if he shows signs of improvement.
If not he can fall back in time upon some middle
weight in reserve. Such conduct is a mere matter of
speculation ; it may fail in one case, and the welter
prove useless, and in that case, of course, the middle
weight who takes his place has lost a certain
amount of coaching; but if, on the other hand, the
trial succeeds, more will be gained than could ever
have been lost. A coach does not necessarily deserve
censure because such a speculation has failed on a
given occasion. All must depend upon an average
of success; and, as a rule, he who is boldest, most
self-reliant, and fenax propositi, so long as hope lasts,
but who in turn does not hesitate to confess to him-
self an error of his own judgment in time for remedy,
will show the highest average.

In “weighting” a crew, it is a fallacy to lay much
stress upon evenness of weighting the two “sides” of
a boat; men sit so much over the keel in racing-
boats, that two stone or more on one side more than
another does no harm; besides, if there really is an
unevenness on the keel, it can be remedied at once,
by shifting one heavy weight one inch more or less
into the middle of the boat. This will hardly be felt
by him in rowing; but the effect will at once be evi-
denced in the balance of the boat. The real thing
to look for is evenness of work. If one side row the
other round, pace is lost and strength wasted.

Though in early practice men need not, as said
above, be tied to the places they are eventually to
48 OARS AND SCULLS.

occupy, yet, of course, in choosing a crew, a coach
must look out for certain requirements for certain
places. Not everybody can row bow, though there
may be a dozen welters capable of doing more work
than the bow eventually selected. It is a good thing
also, in early practice, to change the men over from
side to side. If a man exhibits glaring faults, it is
the very best thing that can be done with him; and
even where no particular fault is seen that can be
attributed to undue use of one arm or leg more than
another, it improves a man’s watermanship at once,
and to a great extent debars him from faults, to
shift him from side to side. To a man who does
what work he performs evenly with both legs, loins,
and arms, the change of side will be immaterial.
Except so far as the “feel” of his oar at starting (as
10 two oars feel just the same), and the action of the
feather (the main strain of which falls on the inside
hand, though both should hold), he will be as much at
home on one side as the other, and after a minute or
two of work on the new side, to © get warm to it,” he
will be perfectly easy. The moment a man begins to
prefer one side to another (unless he has some con-
formity which accounts for it, e. g., an arm once
broken), it may be answered that on the side which
he prefers he is not using his body evenly; for if he
did, ex officio, there would be no difference in action.
Thereupon the mere fact of bis dislike of one side is
the very reason for putting him upon it. He shows
that he neglects some muscles of one side of his body
when on the side he likes, and the change of sides
will bring the neglected muscles into play, and im-
prove him for both sides; and especially in raw
crews, even if a man has no original tendency to use
one limb more or otherwise than its fellow, the rolling
of a boat, and his self-accommodation to the discom-
CHOOSING AND PLACING A “JUNIOR OREW.” 49

fort, may engender faults and one-sided action before
he himself knows the cause. Change of sides will
obviate this—at least it will prevent a habit being
formed for one-sided action with either side.

A stroke to a great extent nascitur, non fit. We do
not mean to say that a stroke does not require tuition,
far from it; but, on the other hand, that all the
tuition in the world will never make even many a
first-class oar into a first-class stroke, if the nature is
not in him. Such a man may make a good ordinary
stroke compared to duffers. Yet with all his excel-
lence, it may be found that some oar, far inferior to
him in power and form, has yet the knack of getting
much more out of a crew than the first-class oarsman.
Many a man can row well enough till he comes to row
to his own stroke, and then he deteriorates. If put
behind a man inferior to him in style and form, he
again rows as well as ever. Such aman can, at seven,
make a bad stroke almost into a good one, by setting
a good swing; yet if he attempted to row stroke him-
self, his excellence would vanish, even supposing that
he had a man to back him up.

One of the hardest things that a coach has to do,
is to judge the amount of work that a man does—
first, positively; secondly, which is still more difficult,
his relative amount of work in proportion to his
weight. The eye must guide the coach to a great
extent; he must watch the water aft of the oar, as it
is rowed through. Supposing the blade to be covered
fully, then, if an oar is well driven through from first
to last, bubbles will be seen at the back of the blade,
especially during the early part of the stroke. The
faster the oar is drawn through, the stronger the
swirl of water behind it, filling up the vacuum it
leaves as it passes; and in this swirl there will be
bubbles, which are less able to rise to the surface in

E
50 OARS AND SCULLS.

proportion as the swirl is strong. The bubbles, many
or few, are a measure of the strength of the swirl, and
the swirl of the pressure of the oar. The bubbles are
from the air carried in by the oar in its first dip. If
the oar is moved but gently through the water the
swirl is not strong enough to prevent this air from in-
stantly rising to the surface, instead of being carried
along with the blade.

Another test of work, but one which must be taken
cum gramno, is that of “feeling” a man in a pair-oar
gig. In so gauging a man the coach must note care-
fully whether the circumstances of the trial are satis-
factory. It is no test of one oar necessarily rowing
harder than another that it pulls it round. One
pound applied at the end of the stroke pulls a boat
more round than three at the beginning; and if one
oar gets into the water a trifle before the other it at
once swings the boat sideways, and the impetus re-
mains, and is not fully counterbalanced, even if the
oar last in comes equivalently later out. Or an oar can
row another round by actually shirking the middle of
the stroke, letting his oar move slowly till the honest
oar has finished, and then winding up with a tug,
when there is no opposite oar to balance the tug. All
these things a coach must bear in mind. But if his
men in a pair-oar begin and end the stroke together,
and both row equivalently, i. e., equally in proportion
at the beginning and end of the stroke, the course of
the boat will then be a test of the work done by each.
Bow has a certain amount of leverage over stroke,
how much depends upon the length of keel and build
of the boat, whether “camber,” &c. All this a coach
must gauge. Still, like the test of “ timing,” so often
abused as unreliable, the test of “ rowing round”
holds good, if all circumstances attending are duly
weighed and equalised.

 
OHOOSING AND PLACING A “JUNIOR OREW.” 51

If there is one phrase more misused or misapplied
than another it is that of “rowing one’s weight.” If
nineteen out of twenty of those who use it when they
criticise an oar were asked what they meant by it
they would not know. It is the most hackneyed
phrase in the mouths of know-nothings who wish to
pull a man to pieces, and its frequency of use seems to
depend upon its obscurity. It can mean anything or
nothing. It cannot mean that a man should put a
strain on to his oar equal to his own weight avoirdu-
pois. The yielding of the boat and oar in the water
would prevent this, and if the boat were ashore, and
the oar pressed against a solid substance, the oar
would break before any such pressure were obtained.
Let any man not a feather weight lay his oar over a
bar, fasten the blade firmly to a fulcrum, and sit on
the handle, and he will have to pay for a new oar. So
this is not the meaning. Is it then the “weight of a
man in the boat?” If a man sits alone in a boat and
paddles with his hands he moves the boat, and so
must be “rowing his weight in the water,” and that
of the boat as well. The nearest approach to a solu-
tion would be to say, that if a man does so little work
that the boat would go faster if his place were vacant,
he does not row his weight; and a man must be very
bad indeed for this to be the case. If he can keep
even time and swing he will still be better than
nothing, and will make the boat go faster with him
than with seven oars. But it does not follow that he
does his share of the work. Others may do more
than he does in proportion to their weight. This
may be seized at as a solution by those who use the
expression; but even this will not do. A crew cannot
all row proportionately hard for their weight. One
man must row hardest in proportion. Then the seven
other men do not “row their weight” compared to
 

52 OARS AND SCULLS.

him, or, if an average is struck through the boat, of
work for weight, some will be over, some under it.
Those under it do not row their weight in proportion
to the rest, yet the same men in a worse crew would
be found rowing more than their weight. So that it
seems that the expression is a misnomer, as a positive
term, and is applicable only as a comparison of the
work of one man with that of another, weight being
also compared. Finally, granting that a man may
be thus below the average of the crew, unless some
one can be found who will raise the average he must
stay where he is. Somebody must always be at the
tail end of the average unless all are equal. Tt isin
comparing a man’s work for his weight with that of
another that the greatest difficulty often arises. It
must be borne in mind in choosing a crew that apart
from sheer work, absence of faults must weigh to
some extent. It is no use for a man to work hard on
his own hook if his faults hinder other men from
doing their best. But this will be treated of more
fully in analysis of faults and other remedies in a
later chapter.
{ 55 )

CHAPTER VIL

ANALYSIS OF FAULTS — FAULTY FINISH — WRONG
GRASP—OVERREACH—MEETING OAR—ROWING
DEEP.

WHEN a crew has been picked and set into regular
practice, the task of the crew will be, of course, to
correct individual faults, and to inculcate uniformity.
Though the latter is the most important element of
eight or four-oared rowing by the time the race is
due, so much so, that every-day experience exhibits
weak but uniform crews defeating others physically
and individually superior to them, but which have
not acquired uniform time and swing, yet too often
in early practice a coach allows his main energies to
be expended too much in objurgations against bad
time and swing. “Time” is called and admonished
every half minute to the exclusion of correction of
the very faults of form which probably are at the
root of the inequality of time. In the first row or
two behind a strange stroke a man may be inaccurate
in time without, perhaps, being radically wrong in
form; but so soon as he has got used to the stroke he
knows an absence of time must be ascribed to some
other radical fault, and it would be much more to
the point if the coach would devote his energies to
tracing out and correcting this, instead of simply
repeating the information that No. — is too soon or
too late in the water. If the individual rowing of a
 

54 OARS AND SCULLS.

crew 1s well looked after, if the swing is elastic,
hands at the right level, and so on, the men will
tumble together before long. To see a crew out of
all time three weeks before a race is not by any
means such a bad sign as to see a generally bad
point in style—a slack grip of the water or sluggish
recovery. Such faults as the latter are unlikely to
be cured in the brief space remaining ; but time may
be suddenly acquired in a few days at the least by a
crew that has been rowing like a peal of bells. A
long day’s row shakes men together, and gets them
instinctively to settle to swing, and with it to time.
At the same time long rows, without stoppage, should
not be attempted too often early in training. The
usual distance rowed without an easy should be not
more than half a mile at first, expanding to about a
mile when wind has become a little clearer; but the
row should not be so long as to last beyond the
period when the men get blown. If it does they will
only contract new faults in their exhaustion, instead
of losing those which they have. A long day’s row
occasionally, with frequent easies, serves to settle the
men to their places, and yet gives them time to
recover their wind after each stage. When the
stroke begins to quicken, a fortnight or so before
the race, it will be time enough to * blow” the crew,
and accustom them to distress; but this part will be
more fully entered into when treating of training.
It is a good plan to teach men in any crew to let the
ear guide the finish of the stroke, just as the eye the
beginning. A definite and simultaneous rattle in
the rowlocks as the oars all feather sharply together,
marks the finish distinctly, and enables the men to
bring the stroke to a close simultaneously. When
this is done the boat is steadier, and the oars
having all finished together, start fair for simul-
ANALYSIS OF FAULTS. 55

taneous recovery, and so for a simultaneous catch of
the water at the next stroke.

In the last chapter, stress was laid on the impor-
tance of choice of a seven. With too many trainers
too much importance is attached to the trim of a
boat. That of one side against another is, as before
explained, of next to no importance, that of their

fore and aft is of more importance, but not of so
much as time and swing. Yet the latter are con-
tinually sacrificed to trim. The man whose style is
best adapted for stroke or seven is often placed in
the middle of a boat, because he is said to be “too
heavy” for the ends of it. Weight aft is a bughear
to most coaches; yet it really makes far less dif-
ference than they suppose. Many a college crew and
more than one University eight have been marred
by the red-tape theory of placing the men according
to their weight in the boat. Hxtra steadiness or
generalship in an oarsman is worth all the trim in
world. Especially in a collegé boat it is best policy
to place the steadiest man seven, regardless of his
weight, even if he be thirteen stone. The crew that
does so will gain more speed by extra uniformity than
they will lose by the misplacement of a short inch of
“trim” at the stern. In a University eight there is
a larger field to choose from, and a steady seven of
the required scale of weight ought to be forthcoming.
But if he is not, the same principle should be ad-
hered to—of time before trim. Those college crews
which have at the beginning of training been most
criticised for an outré disposition of weight—for the
sake of a steady style aft—have seldom failed before
the end of racing to prove the soundness of their
tactics.

But while thus extolling the value of time and

swing in a crew, we do not urge continual preaching
56 : OARS AND SCULLS.

of the thing in the abstract to the men. A coach
cannot say everything, and too much scolding about
time detracts from his leisure for attending to other
faults, as said above, which in all probability lie at
the root of the bad time. Such faults may be par-
ticularized, and plans suggested for curing them.

By far the greatest number of faults in rowing
are perpetrated during the latter part of the stroke,
the finish, or the recovery. Of faults in the middle
or beginning of the stroke, most of them arise as a
natural sequence to some other fault already existing
in the finish or early"recovery, so that the cére of the
latter works that of the former.

As a sample of how one fault, such as above alluded
to, breeds others dependent upon it, let us take that
of finishing the stroke with the biceps instead of the
muscles behind the shoulders. Who ever saw a man
“who so finished, who did not also hollow his chest
more or less, fail to sit thoroughly well up at the
finish, ind, finally, be irregular in his swing, too
slow at first off the chest, with a bucket at the last
to make up for lost ground (unless he saved the neces-
sity for bucketing by enly reaching out so far as he
could without an extra rush at the end of the reco-
very, in which case rowing short is substituted for
bucket)? The connection of all these faults can be
traced. By finishing with the biceps the arm is bent
more acutely at the elbow than in the orthodox finish.
Then, if the elbows are kept close to the sides, the
bend of the arm brings the hands too high at the
finish, thus the oar goes too deep—another fault in
this variation. If the hands are maintained at the
right level, the oar is saved from going deep. This
can only be secured by dog’s-earing the elbows, for
they must go somewhere (the finish with the biceps
bends the arm too acutely to admit of both hands

 
FAULTY FINISH. B57

and elbows being in correct position,—one or other
must give place, 1. e., take up a wrong position (fig. 5).
In either case, whether the
hands are too high or the
elbows too square at the
finish, a bad recovery of the
hands from the chest re-
sults; in the former version
from the labour of bringing
out a deeply buried oar, in
the latter version from the
position of the arms at the
commencement of the re-
covery, for a man with his,
elbows at right angles to his
ribs has not half so much power to push his oar away
from him as one whose elbows are alongside of his
body. The next stage is that the body, instead of
being briskly led in its swing forward by the shoot of
the hands, has to lead them, and the result of a lurch of
the body against the oar, before the hands are well out,
is a slouch and hollowing of the chest. All this wastes
time in the recovery, and the lost time has to be
made up by a bucket at the end of the swing, or
a compromise in the way of a short reach, or getting
* late into the water. Now, as to such a man, if the
coach, instead of analysing the matter, or tracing all
this sequence of faults to one origin, preaches against
each fault distinctly, he has to enumerate so many
errors that the pupil is likely to be bewildered, and
the odds are against his devoting his serious attention
to curing the mainspring fault, especially if he has
from these causes got late in the water, and manages,
by dint of extra bucket, to cure that much; then, if
he some day learns to finish with his right muscles,
he suddenly finds his recovery so much facilitated

 

Fig. 5.—Finish with biceps
(wrong).
3

 

58 OARS AND SCULLS.

that he, using the same exertions as before to get.
forward, becomes too soon in the water. But if the
ruling fault had been taken
separately in hand, its conco-
mitants would probably dis-
appear with but little trouble
when the cause that provided
them was gone (fig. 6). The
© coach should take such a man
in hand out of the boat, give
him a stick to hold, dumb
bells to work, as his manner
required, till the dormant
muscles are brought into
Fig. 6.—Finish with shoulders play, and the use of the 4
(right). : .
thus first stimulated shoul

 

_ then be practically applied in a gig pair, first with
simply rowing a few finishes” with the right

muscles, and then proceeding to the whole stroke.
A man so taken in hand could get into the right
path in a couple of days, or even less; but, if simply
scolded for each fault separately, while rowing in his
crew he may not improve five per cent. in the whole
month.

~ Again, as said in earlier chapters, a faulty hold of
the oar is a$ the root of scores of faults—a too full
grasp with the whole fist will be deadening the play of
the wrist, causing the oar to sink deep, cramping the
finish, and so hampering recovery, swing, time, &ecd
Thus of two pupils both may be rowing deep, both
hanging at the chest, both late in swing forward,
and bucketing, yet each from a different primary
cause. To tell each severally to correct faults similar
in effect, but different in cause, without teaching and
explaining the cause, cannot produce much good
result. It is for a coach, having once “spotted” a
WRONG GRASP—OVERREACH. 59

fault, to set himself at once to trace its cause before
‘he can, with any hope of real success, combat the
evil. :
A loosening of the outside hand of the oar, always
a fault, may be sometimes cause, sometimes effect. It
may come from dog’s-earing elbows, for an arm in
this position is very prone to shirk its work at the
_ finish from the inconvenience of its posture; or, vice .
versd, the dog’s-earing of the outside elbow only, the *
inside one being finished properly, will be the result
of a loosened hand in most cases. The hand being
loose, the work of the hand instinctively slackens
with absence of work, the impulse to go on with the
motion of the shoulder muscles at once vanishes, the
pirpond has to get out of the way, and to follow the oar
ome, and this it does with the more natural motion
‘ of a bend at the elbow joint—the joint in such a case
must stick out—if the oar is rowed home at the
proper depth by the remaining inside hand, or else
one hand would be at a much higher level than the
other, and both could not be touching the oar. But
whichever fault first causes the other the result is
again a sluggish recovery, and the usual inference,
for one hand cannot do the work of two. A man
who does thus is best cured by a change of sides and
coaching separately in a pair-oar gig on the changed
side. This compels him to use his idle hand when it
finds itself on the inside. If the man has rowed on
both sides with the same fault he can be made to use
his outside hand by telling him to take the inside
hand clear off the oar as he rows into his chest. The
idle hand is thus compelled to work. A fault of this
sort often becomes so mechanical that a man can
hardly break himself of it at first without some such
means as this, however burlesque they may seem.
“ Capping ” the oar with outside hand is a variation,
68 OARS AND SCULLS.
/

or rather exaggeration, of the same fault, and should
be similarly treated.

Overreaching with the shoulders comes from an
anxiety to row long, or to appear to row long, but it
causes waste of power, for the shoulders, if not braced
back by the muscles behind the shoulder-blade, give
still more under the strain of the stroke, so that the
body is not “ taut,” and thus is pulling upon a spring.
The farther back the shoulders are held, the more is

 

Fig. 7.—Overreach (wrong).

the collar bone arched forward, and thus it adds to
the support of the shoulders, forming an arch against
which the sockets press. If the shoulders are slack-
ened forward, the arch of the coilar-bone flattens and
becomes almost a straight line; and the more it does
so the less support does it give to the shoulders.
Thus, the more they stretch in the reach, the more
they give when the strain falls upon them. The
sequence of overreaching is a slack finish and feeble
recovery, for the shoulders (if the stroke is to be
eventually finished orthodoxly) have all the farther to
work back into their proper position before the oar can
MEETING THE OAR—ROWING DEEP. 61

be rowed home. If they are not eventually braced up
by the finish, the biceps must do the work to the finish,
of which we have already treated. Overreaching is
best cured by practical illustrations of the required
attitude out of the boat, and then a gentle paddle
in a pair; the less work done in the paddle the better
will this required action be obtained.

Meeting the oar and rowing deep at the finish
(without necessarily a slant of the oar caused by a

 

Fig. 8.—Shoulders braced (right).

faulty hold, but a slower dive of the oar, at its proper
angle) usually arise from the same fault. Often they
co-exist—both engendered simultaneously—the one
still further increasing the other. The cause in each
case is, rowing the finish of the stroke with the arms
only; the body having ceased, or nearly ceased, to
work. The legs work instinctively on behalf of the
body, and the body depends on the legs. If the legs
leave off pressing the stretcher before the hands get
home, the body stops work, and is dragged forward
again by the finish. Or, again, if the body ceases to
swing back, and leaves the arms to finish alone, the
62 OARS AND SCULLS.

legs generally slacken their pressure simultaneously
by instinct, and the result is that the body is pulling
forward by the work of the arms. Another result is
that the arms, heavily taxed to row the oar home by
themselves, find the oar go easier edgeways than
square in the water. They either bring it out too
soon, finishing in the air, or they first rise above the
proper level, and sink the oar, and then lower again,
and bring it back to its level and out of the water.
This up-and-down journey keeps time while the other
men are rowing the stroke home in the ordinary way,
and is less exertion to the arms than rowing the oar
out square~by their own unaided efforts; oarsmen
delude themselves that they have done what was re-
quired to finish the strokes, though really the last part
of the journey of the blade has been in the almost
useless shape of the letter V, instead of that of a
straight horizontal line. The remedy for both these
faults, arising from one cause, is to tell the learner
to keep his feet pressing up to the end of the stroke.
This will make his body work; his body, working
back, will not double forward; and the arms, aided
in their efforts, will, with a little care, return to their
proper line of action—keeping the hands throughout
in the same plane; the rowing deep will thus be cured.
Thus it is seen, inter alia, that the same result, that of
rowing deep, may be produced by various causes,
faulty grasp (too full and too tight), use of biceps, or
unaided by legs when finishing. “Bucketing” has
also been shown to be connected, as an effect, with
more than one distinct and separate fault. This
will show how necessary it is for a coach to be sure
what is the actual vital cause of a visible effect, and
to coach the former rather than to upbraid the latter
in general terms.

\

 
 

( 63)

CHAPTER VIII.

ANALYSIS OF FAULTS (continued) —SCREWING—FEA-
THER UNDER WATER — UNEVEN SWING — BAD
TIME.

NOTHING is more common in raw crews, especially in
those rowing in light boats, than an exhibition of
“screwing.” In some cases this can be traced to a
fault of the performer himself; in more cases it is
due to some fault on the part of others in the boat,
and oftenest of all it is due to the way in which the
work is laid out for the men. Without wishing
coaches to be prone to listen to the excuses of bad
workmen who grumble at their tools, we would urge
upon them the necessity in such cases of first making
sure that the fault exists in the men, and not in the
boat, before they commence to scold about it. We do
not mean mere swinging across the boat, for, though
that is a fault, a man who does so may yet commence
his recovery and end his swing in the proper position ;
but to the full and flagrant offence known as  screw-
ing,” in which the body at the finish of the stroke is
out of the line of the keel of the boat, either over-
hanging the water, or twisted back into the centre of
_ the boat. Now, as a man is supposed to be built
evenly at the outset, it is hard to see why he should
work in a one-sided manner to his own discomfort;
unless there is some external agency beyond his own
direct control (so far as the swing goes) which thus
perverts him. We say advisedly, beyond his control,
 

64 OARS AND SCULLS.

qud swing, for the fault which causes the screw may
be his own, though unconnected with his swing—e. g.,
a feather under water, dropping his rowlock down
below its right level, or so forcing him to lie away
from his oar to clear his knees, &c. If it is really
apparent that this screw comes from an endeavour on
the part of an oarsman to do his work with one arm
or one leg in preference to the other, the fault must
then be confessed to be directly attributable to his
faulty and one-sided swing; but in ninety-nine cases
out of a hundred the case is just the reverse; it is
that the discomfort of the man’s seat is such that he
cannot, in an upright attitude, utilise both sides of
his frame, and he accordingly seeks an attitude in
which he can, according to existing circumstances,
use his body more fully. The cause in such a case
will probably be a wrong level of the rowlock com-
pared to the seat. That level may be wrong in the
boat itself, or it may be made wrong during the
stroke by the inequality in the trim of the sides of
the boat, owing to some fault in the rowing, most
probably a feather under water. But though the
level of the rowlock is the commonest cause, others
may exist. The one, a cramped stretcher, or rather
a cramped posture for the feet against the stretcher;
the feet may be badly placed by the builder; either
both on one side of the keel, so much to the outside
that the body cannot be seated opposite to them, and
so the result is a swing into the boat at the finish; or
the feet may be placed one on each side of the keel,
the inside feet being thus too much inside of the
body, and thus tending to make it swing out of the
boat. In either case the fault is that of the builder
in not giving room for the feet to be placed opposite.
the body. The other cause is a very rare one, but we
have seen it. It is from an uneven seat badly built
SOREWING. 65

in the boat, one side higher than another. Though
such an occurrence is most rare, a coach should test
the possibility of such a cause before he is satisfied
~ as to the nature of the fault. If the boat is syste-
matically “down” on one side, even that does not
conclusively prove that the fault originally lies in the
rowing only, which has made the boat thus off its
keel ; it affords strong grounds for presumption, but
that is all. A rowlock below its right level will cause
its man great difficulty in getting out his oar, and
probably tend to make him drag the boat still more
down upon his oar in his efforts to get it out at the
finish. The only way in which the coach can be
certain whether to find fault in the man or boat is
not only to measure the work carefully, but also to
get into the boat and to try the place himself. A
sprung oar, or one that is not square-cornered, or a
thowl pin raking the wrong way, or the sill of a row-
lock sinking from stopper to thowl, may one or each
be at the root of the evil, apart from the possible
misadjustment of seat or stretcher already alluded to.
If the coach succeeds in tracing the evil to the boat,
his task will be comparatively easy; so soon as the
discomfort is removed the pupil will in most cases at
once return to a true swing; if by any chance he has
gone on so long with this wrong adjustment of work
as to have contracted one-sided habits therefrom, a
little gig coaching ought soon to set him straight.
We have laid so much stress upon the necessity for
a coach to examine the work before he forms his
opinion, because, what with carelessness of boat-
builders, even in new craft, and the slovenly way in
which old boats and “hack” craft are often turned
out, this will be found, as a rule, the most common
cause of evil. Only two or three years ago one of
the neatest University oars of the present day was
F
66 - OARS AND SCULLS.

screwing helplessly in practice in the University
eight. His coaches scolded, but to no avail. They
did not take the advice of some and eject him, for he
had proved himself a good man for work in previous
races; but they contented themselves with objur-
gations, till a bystander pointed out that the man’s
rowlock was visibly lower than the rest. The idea
_ once started, the rowlock was examined, found to be
more than an inch out, was rectified, and in half-a-
dozen strokes the quondam offender rowed as well as
ever—the best style in the boat. But if the fault is
not in the boat it must be in the men. And as there
are eight men in the boat, it by no means follows
that the man who suffers most from the boat being
“down” on one side is the man who causes the mis-
chief. Work is usually (and wrongly) laid out the
same for all in an eight, so that those who sit tallest
are the first to feel the effects of the boat being down
on their oars, while, vice wversd, those who sit the
shortest are the first to feel helpless if the boat is
down on the side away from their oar. The coach
must in such a case watch to see who is to blame for
the lurch in the boat, and correct accordingly. As
to the way to correct the fault which causes the
lurch, whether feather under water or otherwise, that
will be treated of when the fault itself comes under
review.

The fault of feathering under water is one of the
commonest, and to-it may be traced a large propor-
tion of other faults. Yet in itself it need not always
be a primary fault. Apart from the chances of a bad
oar and rowlock (the old story again), it may come
from a faulty hold of the oar. If so, the remedy for
that has already been treated of, and the proper way
to hold an oar has been explained. But the fault is
as often original as secondary ; it may come from

‘
&

FEATHERING UNDER WATER. 67

want of practice in the finish, slurring the two
motions of drop and turn of the hands into one
motion, so that they either come simultaneously,
instead of the drop preceding, or, worse still, the
turn may actually precede the drop. The motions in
a perfect feather should be so rapid that the eye
cannot detect what is wrong by simply watching the
hands of the oarsman ; but, as explained when treat-
ing of the way to learn a feather in earlier chapters.
the way to detect what the hands are doing is to
watch what the oar is doing. The latter tells its own
tale. The remedy must be the same as the primary

‘action of a feather; but in that case it often takes

longer to unteach a bad habit contracted than merely
to teach from the very beginning. - Still, the coach
should never rest till he has cured the fault, for it
may lie at the root of others, not only in the one
offender, but also in others who suffer discomfort
from the irregularity in the boat in which he rows.
Therefore, having well satisfied himself that the

~ fault is not due to bad tools, or faulty hold, which

cramps the play of the wrist, he must take it in
hand with special drill and practice, in the same way
as formerly described for teaching feather ab initio.
““ Loafing” in light boats before the oarsmen are
proficient, and especially bad pair-oar rowing, lays
the seed of much feathering under water. The boat
rolls at first from inequality of time and swing. To
remedy this the oarsmen, instead of boldly dropping
the hands, and trusting to the bodies to “sit” the
boat, keep the oar close to the surface of the water
to steady the boat. The drop-is lost, the feather
reversed, and the actions of drop and turn confused,
transposed, &c. The feather under water thus en-
gendered by want of confidence in sitting the boat
destroys the steadiness of the craft, spoils the natural
68 OARS AND SCULLS.

level of the rowlocks, and so often breeds a screw
out of the boat, as the only way of compromising
the difficulty sufficiently to enable both legs and
arms to do a share of work. Possibly in such a pair
each man may screw to match the other instinctively.
Such a sight is too common. Steadiness, therefore,
is procured at the expense of a certain amount of back-
ing water, caused by each feathering under water;
and at the further expense of a waste of strength by
placing the body other than opposite to both feet,
from which the main support to the rest of the body
must spring. :
Uneven swing forward is sometimes due to a
“ bucket,” which is caused by sluggish early re-
covery, entailing a necessary rush later on to make
up lost ground. This sluggishness in recovery may
be secondary, owing to a hang of the hands, due to
primary faults of feather under water, rowing deep,
finishing with biceps, loosing one hand at the finish,
or other faults which have already been treated of.
If, however, none of these appear, or the recovery
is simply spontaneously sluggish, special drill out of
the boat will remedy this being late with the hands,
and so will facilitate the rest of the recovery. But
it sometimes happens that a man is uneven in his
swing forward, without any hang of the hands. In
that case the reason will be found to be that he does
not use all the muscles applicable for recovery of the
body at the same moment, but uses them in detail, or
omits some altogether. The recovery should be from
muscles of loins, abdomen, and legs, the latter gain-
ing their « purchase” from the strap. | If a man sits
with his legs tucked underneath him, he will still
find that he has a certain power of recovery left in
his loins, apart from that of the abdominal muscles.
It is this power of the loins which is frequently
UNEVEN SWING—TFAULTY TIME. 69

neglected, either wholly, or for part of the swing
forward. An illustration such as this will show the,
man what the power is, and so what he is wasting.
Every ounce of labour saved on recovery tells a tale
in a distance when racing, for not only is there ex-
haustion of the whole frame generally, but loss of
reach, and so opportunity for the back (which may
not yét be tired out) to do its work, is thrown away.
Faulty time is about as common a fault as can be
seen in a racing crew, or even in a crew of good yet
unpractised men. As a rule, faults of time are usu-
ally secondary. Some other fault exists to which
they can be traced, and the primary fault, under one
or other of the heads already discussed, must first be
taken in hand. Swing and time go greatly together.
Time may exist without swing by artificial means and
special adaptation to circumstances, but good swing
will hardly ever be seen without good time accom-
panying it, as a matter of course. The only excep-
tion is where there is a hang when forward on the
part of some one, or a raising of the hands too high
before getting into the water. If the stroke does
this, the rest of his crew, if swinging with him, yet
not sharing his fault, must necessarily hurry upon
him. If his recovery and swing are so good as to
excuse his instant dismissal for the fault alluded to,
he must be taken in hand separately for cure. Simi-
larly, a man other than stroke may swing with the
rest of the crew, and yet be late, by too high a feather,
or a hang when forward. If he is too soon (and the
stroke isnot hanging, &c.), the reason for this must be
a “bucket” in the swing. This has been treated of
before, and the causes whence it may arise. A hang
when forward, or too high a feather, are best cured
in a gig pair. The coach, by touching the man’s
hands as they come forward can urge him to elevate
70 OARS AND SCULLS.

them and to drop into the water at the right moment,
and a few minutes’ lesson like this ought to set him
in the right way. A too high feather can also be
cured, as formerly stated, by giving a mark on the
back in front at which to aim the hands; or, if other
remedies fail, by nailing a rough piece of wood on
the stretcher, to knock the offender’s knuckles if he
dives them too low.

The faults so far enumerated do not belong to the
most important part of the stroke, the beginning.
A beginner may think that, after all, a good tug at
the beginning is worth all these niceties ; so it might
be if it could be ensured without them. At the
same time, though directly they may appear to be
of comparatively less importance, as not necessarily
implying an absence of hard work, yet indirectly
they bear greatly upon the amount of work done;
for not only do they tend to exhaust him who falls
into them, and to hamper his own action, in which
he gets ready to do his work at the beginning of the
stroke; but still more, they may make the boat lie
so unevenly that neither he nor those with him can
use their full strength at the important part of the
stroke, even supposing that that part of the stroke
may have no original fault of its own.
i 7.)

CHAPTER IX.

ANALYSIS OF FAULTS (continued) — NOT ROWING
STROKE HOME—CROOKED SWING—WATERMAN-
SHIP.

A 1.00SE button, not pressing close to the rowlock as
the oar stroke is finished, is a common fault with be-
ginners. It is seldom, if ever, a spontaneous fault,
but exists in connection with some other. Either the
oarsman is screwing out of the boat, and so falls away
from his oar, drawing it after him at the finish, (in
which case the cure for screwing, already entered into,
should remedy this simultaneously,) or the cause may
be a slack finish, or a finish in the air, the oar not
being rowed “home :” so long as the oar does good
work it can hardly help forcing the button up to the
thowl, but, if the pressure of work is taken off the
oar towards the end of the stroke, the oar is as likely
as not to leave the thowl; however, in such a case, to
cure the looseness of the button, attack the slackness
of the finish which occasions it. Of this latter fault
more presently.

But the button may be loose at another time, and
more commonly so, viz,, in the recovery. This may
happen because the oarsman has screwed away from
his oar at the finish, as before, but it often happens,
without any perceptible screw, from sheer want of
“ watermanship.” The pupil must be told to “ feel ”
the rowlock all the time that he is rgcovering, without
going into the opposite extreme of lying upon his oar
72 OARS AND SCULLS.

as he swings forwards; a loose button during reco-
very affects the whole of a crew. The man who does so
is necessarily swinging forward without any support
to himself laterally, and gives helplessly with each
roll of the boat. He also helps to make a lurch on
his own account, for the alteration of the length of the
oar in and out board, backwards and forwards, must,
more or less, mar the time of the boat each time the
shift takes place. The first requisite for learning
watermanship (of which more anon)is to keep the
button tight against the rowlock.

Not rowing the stroke home may come from weak-
ness, in which case it will be unfortunate if a substi-
tute cannot be found for the offender. Or it may
come from a cramped attitude of finish, which brings
the wrong muscles into play—e. g., a finish with the
biceps; many a man who is strong enough to finish
with the right muscles is not capable of rowing the
stroke through in time with the rest of a crew if he
uses the wrong muscles. Or the cause may be an over-
reach in the shoulders when forward ; the shoulders,
in such a case, have not only to bear the strain of the
first part of the stroke at a disadvantage, but have
also an extra distance to go back before the stroke
can be finished with the proper muscles, and thus
finish is weakened. Or the stroke may be not rowed
out simply because the oar is taken out of the water
too soon, the drop of the hands having in such a case
come before the hands have reached the chest. This
may arise from weakness or clumsiness. If the latter,
let the coach take his man in a gig, make him sit up
as if at the end of a stroke, with oar square, and still
at the right depth in the water. Then mark the spot
on his chest which the oar then touches, and make
him do his best to row the hands to that spot each
stroke before he drops them. A fault of this sort is

 
SWINGING ACROSS THE BOAT. 73

a great nuisance to those who row in front of the
offender, for the odds are that, though he drops his
hands thus too soon, he reserves the turn and com-
pletion of the feather to a later period, and, moreover,
drops not suddenly, bringing out the oar like a knife,
but gradually, thus throwing a lot of water aft, to
strike upon the blades of the oars in front of him as
they recover, and hampering their action.

Swinging across the boatis often seen without being
accompanied by a direct screw. It may occur because
the oarsman leans too much on his oar as he goes
forward ; or it may be that he does not sit square, but
sits round towards his oar; or it may arise from
uneven trim of the boat, not but that a good water-
man will not allow his straightness of swing to be
put out by such a minor désagrément. Sitting
crookedly is, however, the most usual cause of the
fault. A man may sit crooked from the bias of his
head, which he has turned over his inside shoulder, in
following the back in front of him. Sevens are prone
to this fault, for they have to take time from a back
that does not lie in front of them. Again, when a
man is forward, the handle of his oar lies so much
inside of him that it is impossible for both body and
arms at that moment to lie true to the line of the keel
of the boat. It is the arms that should give way, and
should slant to follow the oar. They come square as
the oar reaches the middle of the stroke. But in
trying to make the most of the beginning of the
stroke, a man sometimes unconsciously sets both his
body and arms square to the handle at the first catch,
with a view of gaining more power, but loses leg work,
and weakens the rest of the stroke by so doing. He
must be made to sit square to the stretcher at the
outset, to be content to have his body, therefore, not
quite square to the oar handle at the beginning of the
74 2 OARS AND SCULLS,

stroke, the arms following the oar, but not the body.
This is best done by telling him for a season to set
his head well over his outside shoulder, and to take
time from the loom of the next oar in front of him,
and not from the back in front. This will soon bring
him straight. The mere weight of his head on the
outside will prevent him from swinging across the
boat, and so sure as he has eased his swing, he can
again take the time in the proper way from the back
in front of him.

Fouling the water in going forward not only checks
the way of the boat between the strokes, but also
causes a lurch of the boat away from the oar that so
fouls if the water is struck with any degree of violence.
If the stretcher has not been placed too short, the
fault will be either that the hands do not drop suffi-
ciently at the finish of the stroke, or that they are
not shot out quickly enough from the chest so as to
clear the knees before the latter begins to rise from
the natural bend of the knees as the body swings
forward. Insufficient drop of the hands, or sluggish
recovery of the same from the chest, is then the cause
of this fault, and the cure should be directed accor-
dingly. (See chapter VIIL.)

Want of watermanship is a common fault, or rather
incapacity, especially among University men. A
good “waterman” should not only be able to keep
time and swing, but should always have command
over himself and his oar, and not be thrown out by a
lurch of the boat or rough water. It is astonishing
what one good waterman can do for the rest of a
crew. By sheer knack of “sitting the boat ” he will
not only save himself from being discommoded by
lurches, but will preserve the trim, and so enable the
very men whose faulty rowing has caused unevenness
of keel to be unimpeded by the result of their own
WANT OF WATERMANSHIP. 75

clumsiness. Just like a good skater, who can not only
preserve his own balance, but also that of some tyro
whom he has in hand, so is a good waterman among
a non-waterman crew. He is constantly on the watch
attentively to anticipate the least roll of the boat,
and to “sit” against it before it has gone too far.
And even if a lurch does come, instead of losing all
command of himself and his oar, while the boat is off
her keel, he accommodates himself to circumstances,
keeps up his work and swing, and rights the boat
while the tyros are lumbering and blundering in con-
fusion. Many even valuable oars have not this knack
of balance. They may themselves row too well to be
the causes of many lurches in the boat, and yet be
unable to counteract those lurches, occasioned by
others, when they feel them coming. Practice in a
sculling boat or pair oar is the best school for water-
manship, provided that the oarsman does not allow
himself, meantime, to degenerate himself into feather-
ing under water, or any of those faults incidental to
raw pair-oar rowing, mentioned in previous chapters.
University oars are so much tied down to eight-oared
rowing that they have little time for pair-oars and
sculls. The art of sitting a boat may be learned with-
out such facilities, but practically it seldom is so, and
Lawless, the elder Morrison, and Carter of Worcester,
are the only individuals in my experience of Oxford
rowing who, without having done much (if any) scull-
ing or pair rowing, had yet the knack of sitting a
rolling boat. Long practice will certainly get good
men, deficient in watermanship, to row so well
together that rolling comes to an end; but a good
waterman will sit his boat long before time and swing
become perfect, and by thus counteracting rolling
will enable those in the boat to get together in one
third of the time that they otherwise would, for un-
76 OARS AND SCULLS.

evenness of trim, though caused by faults, enhances
them while it lasts, and delays their cure. Tideway
amateurs are, as a rule, far better watermen. Their
sculling and pair-oar practice, for which they have
more time than University oars, accounts for this.
Londoners who may be inferior in style to Oxford
and Cambridge oars, are yet far more capable of sit-
ting a light boat well and of doing their work in it
without being all at sea by continual rolls. If a
scratch crew goes out from the London Rowing Club,
or with only two or three good * watermen” of that
or the Kingston Club among them, the rest being
University oars, to race one of the University eights,
when at Putney in the spring, the scratch crew,
though their oars are probably out of time, and their
feather uneven, from want of practice, will be found
as a rule steadier on the keel than the University
Eight, which has ten times as much time and swing
as the scratch crew. The latter from want of practice
may be committing faults of rowing at almost every
stroke which would tend to produce a roll, but
these inaccuracies are provided against by the art of
balance. Their trained antagonists far less often
commit a fault which would cause a roll, but when
that roll does come, they surrender helplessly to it,
instead of anticipating it, or trimming the boat to
save it. Hspecially when in a wash, or the swell of a
steamer, does this art come into play. Of course,
sitting the boat is an exertion, and detracts from
some of the power which could be expended on the
stroke, but what power is thus left is enabled to be
laid out to the best advantage on an even keel. It is
of no use to have power in hand to expend upon the
stroke if the boat rolls too much to admit of the ex-
penditure. It is hard to say how such a knack may
be acquired; with some men it is an impossibility.
WANT OF WATERMANSHIP. : 77

Make and shape have a good deal to do with it;
“ breadth of beam ” and width across the hips give a
man facilities for thus learning the knack, and, in
addition, he must be quick with his hands, ready to
raise or lower them according to emergency, and
especially active in clearing his knees, for if he once
fouls them his own balance becomes crippled. The
first thing a waterman has to do is to keep his own
balance. Having succeeded in doing so, he can next
learn to secure the balance of others. To do so he
must always be on the look out for a coming lurch,
must be quick with his hands, sit tight to his seat,
and ready to anticipate. The rest he must learn for
himself ; practice only can make him perfect. Beyond
the most rudimentary sketch of position to start with,
and a caution to be lively with his hands, book work
can do no more good to him, nor even verbal instruc-
tion, than similar tuition would suffice to make a
cricketer a good wicket-keeper, unless he possesses
the first requisites of nerve, and quickness of eye and
hand, and supplements these with careful practice.
78 . OARS AND SCULLS.

CHAPTER X.

ANALYSIS OF FAULTS (continued)—BENT ARMS—
WANT OF CATCH.

BENDING the arms too soon—h crying fault at all
times—arises from more than one external cause. It
may be due to want of culture 6f the muscles of
back, loins, and legs, with which the earlier part of
the stroke should be rowed. Till the superior
strength of these has been utilised by practice and
called into play, the tendency with most men, especi-
ally those whose arms are above the average strength,
is to seek to do the work from first to last with those
muscles which are “handiest,” to wit, those of the
arms. Again, it may be caused by want of water-
manship, and the terrors of a rolling boat. The
depth to which the oar is buried during the stroke
tends to vary, of course, with inequality of trim of
the boat. The natural instinet of an oarsman is to
keep his oar at a standard level, or, at least, to pro-
tect it from going too deep, even if he does not
grudge it going a little shallow. This evenness of
depth must be secured (supposing the roll of the
boat to be complete, and not checked at the outset
by watermanlike sitting the boat”) by alteration of
the level of the hands. A man soon finds that he
can more easily adjust this level by letting the arms
play up and down from the elbow only, instead of
from the whole shoulder; and accordingly, the in-
stant he feels a lurch coming, he bends his arms,
BENT ARMS. 79

that they may be the better prepared to adapt them-
selves to circumstances. The fault thus inaugurated
soon takes a more definite form, and the arms become
regularly bent, with or without a roll, the bend com-
‘mencing either from the first catch of the water, so
that the arms are never really straight for work, or
at least beginning long before the time due for the
regular finish of the stroke. Premature or self-
taught rowing in light boats is often at the root of
this cause of the fault.

Again, badly laid out work may originate the fault.
If a man honestly wishes to work, and yet finds his
rowlock at a level, or his oar lying at an angle to the
water at which he cannot get his body to do its work,
he will try to do his best with his arms, which are all
that remain available. The germ of evil thus soon
remains even when the work has been put straight,
For badly laid out work the coach is responsible, as
said before.

Again, some men, in their anxiety to get sharp
hold of the first catch of the water, endeavour to
add to the force by bending their arms at the same
time that they apply legs, loins, &e. This they would
not do if they already made all the use available of
the last-named muscles, for the strain would then be
too great for bent arms to bear; but so long as the
use of these muscles is but half developed there is
scope for the arms to join in the catch, and for the
time being the oar comes a trifle faster through the
“water during the first part of the stroke. But the
result is not only that the arms soon tire under the
strain of coupling shoulders to legs with bent joints
—and a man who so rows proves no stayer—but still
more, the arms, by thus taking upon themselves part
of the duty that should belong to other muscles,
prevent those other muscles from ever bringing them-
80 OARS AND SCULLS.

selves up to the regular standard; for they develop
according to strain put upon them, supply following
demand, and if the strain is thus eased by the arms
development is no longer urged.

The best cure for the fault is to put the offender to *
work in a very heavy boat—a gig, laden with sitters
—one in which the strain of the oar is too great to
- allow of it being forced through the water by any
other process than that of back, loins, and legs. The
unusual strain, coupled with admonition, will soon
keep the arms straight, and will at the same time
develop the use of the dormant muscles. The boat
should at first be so heavy that the pupil can actually
put into practice the old theory of lifting himself
off his seat,” standing for the instant against his
stretcher, with body lifted fairly off his seat, by the
simultaneous use of rigid legs and body driven well
back. Such a strain as this will in an hour or two
often bring his arms as straight asif he was hanging
his whole weight for his life from a bar. When he
has once thus got into the right train of action he
will not fall back again, if his work is well laid out,
boat steady, and stroke not too quick when he is
once more restored to ordinary practice.

But when one arm only is bent, and not the other,
the cause is totally different. It stands to reason
that the inside arm has, being on a shorter radius,
less distance to reach from body to oar than the out-
side arm. The inside wrist, therefore, should be
slightly arched, and if the outside hand holds the oar
in the fingers and not in the fist (see earlier chap-
ters), and the hands are not placed more than three
inches apart, this arch of the inside wrist should
suffice to counterbalance the difference of length of
radius, and to bring both elbow joints straight for
the beginning of the stroke. If (a) the outside hand

 
BENT ARMS—WANT OF CATOH. 81

holds too closely with the whole fist, or (b) the inside
hand is placed too far down the oar, or (c) the inside
wrist is not arched, then something must accommo-
date itself to circumstance, and it falls upon the in-
side elbow-joint to give way, and bend so as to pre-
serve the required length of reach from oar to
shoulder. Any one of these faults, or a combination
of them, may be the cause of error. But if merely
placing the hands and grasp in a proper position does
not at once remedy the evil, the reason will be that
the muscles of the arm have become so accustomed
to the former postures and action that they cannot
at once correct themselves, and if so, time will be
saved by putting the pupil through a short heavy-
boat course of work in the same way as suggested in
the case of a bend of both arms.

Sometimes the inside wrist is arched to an extreme,
though the elbow-joint is straight. This will arise
from holding the oar too low down, so that the ordi-
nary arch of the wrist does not suffice to equalise
matters; or else, as before, from too close a grasp of
the outside hand. The remedy must be accordingly.

All faults analysed so far, refer to other than the
all-important action of the first part of the stroke. A
man who perpetrates none of these faults, nor suffers
from their perpetration by others in the boat with
him, will keep good time, swing, and form in rowing,
row his oar through at a proper depth, finish and
feather neatly, use his arms and shoulders properly,
avoid rolls of the boat, and so will have, primd facie,
nothing to hamper him in making the proper use of
his loins, back, and legs at the commencement of the
stroke. But if, after all, he does not do so, he is
useless for racing purposes, and though he may row
in form, without this last-named capacity he will
never row hard, at least, iv a light boat. These faults

G
82 OARS AND SCULLS.

thus analysed are of minor importance in themselves,
but their chief mischief is not so much what they
directly detract from the “go” of the boat, as what
they indirectly detract, by preventing the pupil who
suffers from them, in himself or others, from being
ready to lay his strength and weight properly on the
first part of the stroke in a light boat. If he fails in
. this main desideratum he is but a Pharisee at an oar,
plenty of elegance is shown but no tangible use. To
lay well and sharp hold of the beginning is a question
of knack as well as of strength. The latter must
pre-exist, the former must co-exist to enable the latter
to be applied. Many a man who can row hard enough
in a heavy boat, which does not go so light off hand
as to leave mo resistance to the oar if not caught
sharp at the beginning, may yet be eventually un-
able to acquire the knack of putting his full force on
instantaneously and at the right moment. A man
who can “put the shot” well may yet be unable to
throw a cricket ball with success against a school boy,
and the knack of getting well hold of the first part of
the stroke in a racing boat holds a parallel to this.
Tt comes to this: —Firstly, the power must exist,
though latent; secondly, it must be developed by
heavy boat coaching till the pupil learns to depend
upon his back, loins, and legs for the main strain of
the stroke; and thirdly, he must acquire the knack
of putting the whole of this force, possessed and
developed, into play at an instant’s notice the moment
his oar touches the water. Want of catch at the be-
ginning by no means implies want of power of loins,
&e., but simply a want of knack in using that power
at the right time. How many an oar who could be.
valuable enough for races rowed in tubs, is useless
for a light, keelless boat! To inculcate this catch is
a hard task for a coach, but when he has once brought

 
WANT OF CATCH. 83

it out he will repay himself tenfold by the speed
which he attains.

His first requisite is a stroke who can set the
required style of suddenly throwing his weight upon
the oar. He should teach it at first at a slow stroke,
and the longer in proportion that he can make the
time quick on recovery the quicker will be the drive
of the oar through the water. For this reason: If a
man applies his strength to a certain given number
of times in the minute, then the slower his oar comes
through the water the faster is his recovery to keep
up the normal and hypothetical pace of stroke. Vice
versd, the more time he allows himself to get forward
and to reach out the less has he left to get his oar
through in the allotted time, and thus he is driven to
use extra force to bring it through the water. The
adage already alluded to, of “lifting oneself off the
seat at the beginning,” will explain to the pupil what
he has to do, but will not necessarily enable him to
put his theory into practice, when he comes to rowing
in a light boat. He may be able to stand against his
stretcher in a heavy boat, where the resistance is
great, and can see that if he can suddenly apply the
same sort of force in a light boat he will produce the
same result ; but it does not follow that he will ever
acquire the knack of thus suddenly putting his
weight on. The lighter the boat the harder does it
become to put the theory into practice, and the more
important does it become that such should be done.
Provided a man has it in him, it is a question of
time to develop first the required muscles, and then
the knack of rightly using them. Three fallacies the
coach must guard against: (1) The slowness of swing
forward in proportion to drive through the water
must never become a hang, or be gained at the expense
of a hang, during any portion of the recovery. The
84 OARS AND SCULLS.

body and hands should be always moving, though
slower or faster according to the pace of stroke; e. g.,
of two crews, both rowing the same pace of stroke, one
in a light and the other in a heavy boat, neither
hanging, the crew in the light boat should occupy a
longer time during the swing forward, and a shorter
time in rowing the oar through than the other crew;
but in both the bodies should be perpetually moving;
in the lighter boat the stroke should become more of
a hit or drive, and less of a pull or tug. The primary
action would be the same in each, viz., the, removal
of the weight of the body for the instant from the
seat to the handle of the oar and stretcher, but in
the lighter boat this would require to be done more
suddenly and sharply. (2) The next fallacy to be

avoided has been already alluded to, viz., clipping.

It is easy to hit the water by rowing the first part of
the stroke in the air, and so getting an impetus on
the blade, but in such a case it is not the first part,
but the middle of the stroke that is caught, the first
part being non-existent (in the water). To avoid
this the hands should be carefully shot out at the
proper level, not too low. (3) Lastly, the stroke,
when once caught, must be held, drawing it well
through. When it is “dropped” after being care-
fully caught, it is because legs and body are not
actively in concert, the body has been thrown sharply
on, but the legs have not backed it up by rigid re-
sistance. The legs, as explained in earlier chapters,
must be ready to feel the stretcher and to stiffen
against it the instant the body feels the strain of
the stroke.

When inculcating a sharp catch to a crew the
coach must not at the outset be disgusted to see bad
time. Sharp motions are performed with less ac-
curacy than slow ones. A crew that is taught to
WANT OF CATCH. 85

put its oars gently into the water will be able to do’
so with far more accuracy at first than one which
sends them in with a dash. Similarly, in drilling
military recruits, the slow motions are obtained in
time, long before those which are sudden and sharp;
but time will be acquired at last, and with it the
desideratum of pace if the coach will stick to his text,
and not be dispirited while he sees his own men
“driving ” like a peal of bells, while a rival crew,
with a gentle sweep, raises and lowers its oars as
level as a lady’s fan. The work done at the first part
of a stroke, that is well rowed home, is what the
coach must depend upon for pace. Yet, though it is
in itself nine-tenths of the propelling matter of the
stroke, he must not for that reason allow himself in
his eagerness for its acquisition to be blind to the
long catalogue of minor faults previously enumerated,
which not only in themselves make a difference in
the pace, but, still more, have an influence on the
facilities for applying the strength rightly at the
commencement of the stroke.

It will be seen from this that, though the power
required in the muscles for rowing the first part of
the stroke is first brought into play by heavy boat
rowing, which teaches the pupil to realise the fact of
a resistance too great for his arms to overcome, and
so to trust to his back, &ec., still the knack of using
this power suitably for a light boat can only be
acquired in the light boat, and too much heavy boat
practice towards the last would deaden the “life”
and suddenness of the catch in a boat. In the same
way the use of dumb-bells and heavy weights would
strengthen an arm for throwing a cricket ball, and
would suitably prepare it up to a certain time, but to
handle heavy weights on the eve of a contest would
deaden the activity, and take the edge off the throw-
86 OARS AND SCULLS.

ing. This parallel is adduced, that coaches, while
following suggested remedies, may calculate for
themselves, according to the time to lapse before a
race, whether complaint is always worse than cure.
If a man is utterly devoid of work of any sort at the
beginning of the stroke, tub boat rowing cannot spoil
him, for he has nothing to spoil; but if he has some
idea of a catch, though not enough, too heavy a spell
in a tub, though it would do him no harm for the
distant future, may yet throw him back in life and
elasticity of body for a closely impending race.
( 87 )

CHAPTER XL

SLIDING SEATS.

SLIDING seats were said to have revolutionised rowing
when first they gained recognition. In one sense
they may be said to have been revolutionary, in that
they gave such an access of power that those who
used them, even if they set at defiance ordinary rules
of good rowing—especially of body work—were still
able to obtain more pace than those of similar physi-
cal calibre, who, though rowing in sound form and
with good body work, were confining themselves to
fixed seats. This spectacle alarmed more than one
good judge, and caused an opinion among such that,
though pace undeniably increased with the new seat
and action, form and good rowing, according to old-
fashioned rules, would be a thing of the past. But
this prima facie aspect of the change was soon altered.
The fact was that the earlier expositions of sliding
had not been good specimens of the art. Most of the
new votaries followed it by light of nature, and not
on scientific principles; but as the use of the slide
became better understood, and a few good specimens
began to display themselves, it was soon seen that
good sliding was as far ahead in pace of bad and pri-
mitive sliding as the worse editions of the new art,
were ahead of the old fixed-seat style. Bad sliding
will, as a rule, defeat good rowing on a fixed seat
(assuming physique to be equal in each case), but that
is no reason why sliding should not be so cultivated
88 OARS AND SOULLS.

as to possess all the excellences of the best fixed-seat
rowing, and yet to have in addition the extra action
and power which is essentially characteristic of the
“slide.” If this principle is carried out the alarm of
several retired oarsmen, whose experiences of their
own day entitle their opinions to the very highest
respect, will, it is to be hoped, be found to be un-
founded. It is very probable that they will—as has
already more than one old hand who at first inveighed
against the system—be content ere long to own that
their first prejudices were founded upon the bad spe-
cimens of sliding, to the almost utter exclusion -of
good ditto, which they first witnessed, and which,
after all, justified the opinions so formed so long as
the standard remained at this pitch. On the other
hand, steadily improving specimens (unfortunately
still in a minority), which have more recently appeared
of sliding rowing, show clearly that form can be as
good on a slide as on a fixed seat, when properly un-
derstood and practised ; and to this view many of the
quondam opponents of the innovation are now coming
round. The same sort of theory was adopted by all
heavy-boat oarsmen when light, keelless boats first
came into vogue. They undoubtedly added to pace,
but watermanship and the art of “sitting ” a rolling
boat was so little known that the light craft rolled
helplessly, and form became at a discount. This
was palpable in the Chester crew, who rowed and won
the Grand Challenge at Henley in the first keelless
boat ever built, in 1856. The form of the crew was
bad, the oars “slobbered ” along the water, but the
face was undeniable, and Oxonians and Cantabs alike
abused the rowing of their conquerors. But they
took counsel, for all that, from defeat, and rowed the
next University race in similar ships. For the next
year or two the form of College rowing was very bad,

 
SLIDING SEATS. 89

and spoilt by unsteady light-boat rowing; butin time
it was proved that as good form could exist in light
boats as in the old-fashioned keeled outriggers, and
prejudice subsided as rapidly as it had arisen. The
proof of the pudding was found to be in the eating,
and even bad crews adopting sliding seats at short
notice, and with but an embryo knowledge of how to
use them, gained at once such a palpable accession of
speed, that it was plain, a fortiort, that if sliding with
bad rowing could do thus much, sliding combined with
good rowing could effect still more. Sliding on the
seat had been practised for some years before the
sliding seat came in. For sculling it had indisputably
proved its advantages, but for rowing it was still open
to suspicion. The strain of drawing the body up and
down with the legs was not too great at the slower
stroke which scullers use; but at the quicker stroke
which is applied in rowing, quicker on the average by
six to even ten strokes per minute, the strain upon the
legs was too great to allow of its being sustained for
any length of time. Renforth’s Champion Four used
to slide on fixed’seats for a spurt, but not for any
prolonged distance. The “John o’Gaunt” Four
from Lancaster, that rowed at Henley Regatta in
1870, slid on fixed seats, and displayed great speed
for half a mile, but at the expense of a strain on
the legs which made them unable to “stay” beyond
that distance. Somehow it never seemed to strike
English oarsmen that, though the bugbear of sliding
was confessedly friction upon the seat, the whole
machine might be simplified by making the seat
slide with the body, instead of the body slide
upon the seat. To an American this adaptation of
the principle is theoretically, we believe, due. But
having thus simplified matters by making the seat
slide, our American cousins did not appreciate their
90 OARS AND SCULLS.

own invention. They had wits to see that if the body
was to slide upon the seat, it was simpler that it
should do so upon a false seat, itself sliding upon the
real seat below. But they did not themselves appre-
ciate the value of sliding at all upon a seat in any
shape. This may seem strange, but those who have
noticed American rowing in this country, all arm and
shoulder work, and but little use of legs and loins,
can well understand that an appliance for increasing
the use of the legs—limbs which they almost ignored
in rowing, compared to our English ideas—would not
meet in America with any great appreciation. But
the problem having been solved by those who had no
motive for it, was observed by a north-country crew
then in America, and was speedily put into execution
on their return to England, and its value was practi-
cally proved in the great four-oared race that took
place on the Tyne in November, 1871. J. Taylor,
who had meantime perfected the wrinkle which he
had recently picked up in the new world, persuaded
his crew to adopt his plan. This use of the novelty
was kept carefully dark to the last hour from their
opponents, and the race, when it came off, was most
hollow, owing chiefly to the use of the sliding seat.
Chambers’s crew was nowhere. A couple of sculling
races on the Thames in the following spring more
fully proved the utility of the sliding seat. It added
power and speed without in any way detracting from
powers of endurance, as had been formerly the case
where sliding was practised on fixed seats. Not that
those who slid (sculling) on fixed seats had been the
worse or slower in the long run for so doing. Those
who attempted it in rowing, to a greater extent than
for mere spurts, had been the losers in the long run
by it, for the reasons above explained. But the re-
moval of the bugbear of friction at once established

 
SLIDING SEATS. 91

conclusively the value of the novelty, and from that
hour it gained rapid recognition among rowing men.
The anomaly seems to be that, while the theoretic
value of sliding, even on a fixed seat, had already been
conceded, but the difficulty in practical application
had been the hindrance of friction, this now simple
solution of the difficulty should have been unobserved
by those who appreciated the system, and should have
been left to the casual observation and detection of
those who, though they did not appreciate “ sliding,”
yet saw their way to the solution. Like Columbus
and his ‘egg, the solution once promulgated seems
simple enough. Meantime, English oarsmen must
own that they owe to Americans the solution, though
not the application of the solution, of the problem.
It was still further anomalous that in the first con-
test that ensued between the old and new world after
the practical application of the invention, the country
from which the invention first emanated should have
pointedly ignored its use, and have rowed upon the
old principle of fixed seats, while, on the other hand,
their antagonists adopted the very invention which
their rivals had invented only to throw aside. Ame-
rican rowing, deficient in leg work in the very essence
of its style, was yet the means of teaching English-
men how to make the best use of that leg work which
constituted the main stay of their style. The race
between the London Rowing Club and the Atalanta
of New York is of course alluded to. The superior
physique of the London men, and the further superi-
ority of their style in all first principles of rowing, of
form, time, reach, recovery, swing, work done at the
first part of the stroke, and all such similar excel-
lences, could no doubt have landed them victors with
ease, even without the use of the sliding seat. But
some of the extreme hollowness of their victory
92 OARS AND SCULLS.

was also due to their use of the sliding seat as against
fixed seats. The fact that London could have won in
fixed seats made some clubs for the time being fail to
recognise the intrinsic merit of the sliding seat
till Henley Regatta came, when the comparison of
the two styles was still further brought into notice.
The London Rowing Club—first in the field with the
new art—exhibited the best specimen of it, and, with
a crew no better in physique and other details of
rowing than the defeated London crews of years
immediately preceding, secuzed, for all that, one of
the hollowest victories on record for the Grand Chal-
lenge. Further, when at the eleventh hour other
crews in practice at Henley adopted sliding seats,
with but limited time and teaching to acquire the
proper use of them, they instantly gained palpably
on and over the course to the average of some fifteen
seconds for an eight.

This last practical illustration turned the scale
agaiust scepticism and opposition, at least among
rowing men, and before the season came to an end
hardly a race was rowed by oarsmen of any preten-
sions except on the new principle. But, as before
stated, scepticism and condemnation were not easily
got rid of among old retired oarsmen, who did not
practically essay the system themselves. This opposi-
tion was not inexplicable. In the first place, many
of the ablest seemed to confound the idea of the seat
giving way with that of the stretcher giving way. It
is curious, but still a fact, that many of the best oars-
men of their day held this confusion of ideas until
they had got into a boat for a few seconds, and had
rowed on a sliding seat. Again, the execrable form
which almost all the earlier specimens of sliding dis-
played naturally induced critics to say, “If that is
‘sliding,’ it is not ‘rowing,’ according to recognised
SLIDING SEATS. 93

rules. You may be gaining in pace, but you are
abandoning style, and ruining rowing as an art of
elegance.” Time has shown that form is, after all,
anything but incompatible with sliding, and though
it cannot be denied that good form and style are less
frequently seen just now than they were when fixed
seats were universal, still form is gradually returning,
and as the practice of sliding becomes more and more
practically understood, there is every reason to hope
that in another season or two style will be confessed
to have in no way deteriorated, nor rowing suffered
as an art, by the innovation. Having thus briefly
sketched the origin and rise of the use of sliding seats,
analysis of that use must occupy a later chapter.
 

94 OARS AND SCULLS.

CHAPTER XII.

SLIDING SEATS— (continued).

THE simplest method of appreciating what is the
action on a sliding seat is to recall for an instant the
action of body and legs upon a fixed seat. On the
latter the body does the main work of the stroke, but
is supported and kept in the position necessary for
this work by a rigid resistance of the legs against
the stretcher. The length of that stretcher on a
fixed seat is, or should be, the shortest at which the
pupil can clear his knees with his hands in the
recovery. Upon a fixed seat mechanical and physi-
cal power are to some extent in antagonism. The
body would have more physical power the shorter
the stretcher was placed, but if shortened beyond a
certain point it causes the knees to be so bent that
the hands could only clear them by raising the row-
lock to a higher level, and so forfeiting a certain
amount of mechanical power. Hence a compromise
between mechanics and physique is effected, and the
stretcher is placed only so short, and the knees are
only so bent, as not to sacrifice mechanical power by
placing the rowlock too high.

The amount of work done by an oarsman, supposing
him not to vary for good or bad in other faults, and
to apply the same amount of pressure to his oar
whether his reach is long or short for the moment,
varies according to the length of his reach. Ona
fixed seat the body swings upon a fixed pivot. On a
SLIDING SEATS, 95

sliding seat the pivot itself moves fore and aft, while
the body swings upon it, and the arc described by
the body is correspondingly enlarged. The arc
described on a fixed seat is circular, similar to that
which the spoke of a wheel revolving, but not pro-
gressing, would describe. Now, if the wheel rolls
while it revolves, it is clear that the axis must pro-
gress in a straight line parallel to the ground, while
the spoke in question at the same time revolves upon
the axis. If the wheel revolves upon its own circum-
ference it is clear that the distance in a straight line
which the axle progresses during a certain amount
of revolutions, is equivalent to the linear measure of
as many degrees of the circumference as equal the
angle made by the spoke, before it commenced to roll,
with its position when the motion was completed.
The curve thus described by the end of the spokes
will be a “cycloid.” But it will be seen that, practi-
cally, the length of slide which a man is capable of is
by no means commensurate with the linear measure
of the arc described by his shoulders if he were on a
fixed seat and swinging his full reach. But let us
imagine two wheels concentric, the smaller one pro-
jecting its flange beyond the plane of the other. Let
the smaller wheel roll along a projecting rim, say a
wall, the larger wheel revolving with it, but not rolling
upon its own circumference. Then when both wheels
have revolved concentrically through a certain num-
ber of degrees, the larger wheel will have progressed,
not the lineal measure of that number of degrees of
its own circumference, but that of the same number
of degrees of the smaller wheel’s circumference. Its
axis will have progressed this amount in a straight
line, while the given spoke revolves through the
given number of degrees. The curve described by
the end of a spoke of the larger wheel will be a
 

96 OARS AND SCULLS.

“ trochoid.” This is practically the curve which the
shoulders of a man on a sliding seat describe. It is
obviously longer in linear measure than the curve
which the body, swinging forwards and backwards on
a fixed seat, would describe, and the increase of work
done may be said to be proportionate to the extra
distance travelled by the shoulders, provided the body
is meantime proportionately supported by the legs to
the same extent, taken at an average through the
stroke, as it would be supported in a fixed seat. Now,
on a sliding seat the legs at the commencement of the
stroke, when the body is full forward, are capable of
being bent far more than on a fixed seat, without
interfering with the hands when they pass over the
knees. By the time that the former reach the knees,
the latter have lowered themselves, as the seat recedes
from the stretcher, sufficiently to allow the hands to
pass over without fouling them. Towards the end of
the slide the knees are less bent, and consequently
the legs give the body less support than they could
do on a fixed seat, but at the beginning of the stroke
they had more bend, and consequently more power
than at the ordinary bend of a fixed seat, so that
taken all round the legs on sliding seats may be said
to exercise the same average support to the body as
they do on a fixed seat, and the body, meantime
describing a larger arc, does a corresponding extra
amount of work.

Next, having shown the physical and mechanical
gain of the sliding seat, to examine the best way of
teaching a pupil how properly touseit. The strongest.
set of muscles that a man has in his body are those
which extend his legs. Let a man try to stoop and
lift a heavy weight in each hand from the ground,
first by the elevation of his body alone—his legs not
altering their position; secondly, let him keep his
SLIDING SEATS. 97

body erect, and lower himself to grasp the weight by
bending his knees only, and then raise the weight by
straightening them, and he will find the latter far the
more powerful action. This sense of superior power
in the legs is at the root of much of the bad sliding
rowing which the majority of those who practise it
exhibit. A man on first essaying a sliding seat feels
that the power with which he can lash out his legs
and force his seat back away from the stretcher, is
far greater than any which he was capable of apply-
ing with his body backed by simply rigid legs on a
fixed seat. Pleased with the sensation of a novel
acquisition of power in a boat, he too often falls into
the error of making slide, and slide only, his ne plus
ultra, exchanging swing for slide, not putting the two
together. And he is more liable to fall into this
snare, because the power of the legs to lash out is, as
said before, greater than that of the body. Although
the reach of stroke that a slide on the seat alone—
devoid of motion of body—would attain would be,
from its very shortness, less effective in propelling a
boat than a less powerful but longer stroke rowed by
the body without a slide, yet when this slide comes to
be coupled with a very small amount of swing, such
an amount as would not be dignified with the name
of rowing on a fixed seat, the two combined produce
more propelling power than can be obtained from the
mere body stroke on the fixed seat. The tyro then
finding that he has distinctly improved in pace upon
his old fixed-seat rowing, thinks that at once proof
positive that he is sliding correctly. Again, if to the
ordinary power of swinging back the body, and the
strain which such action causes upon the shoulders
in connecting body with oar, be added this extra
power of the legs to propel the whole machine as it
swings away from the stretcher and so increases the
H
98 OARS AND SCULLS.

reach, it is plain that the strain on the shoulders is
considerably increased. It is a relief, when first
learning to slide, to reduce the strain as nearly as
possible to the standard of fixed seat rowing, and by
limiting the swing, and substituting slide for it, the
strain is kept within bounds of comfort. With many
men it must be allowed that the power of legs and
back combined on a sliding seat is almost too heavy
at first, if properly applied, for the “ coupling”
powers of the arms and shoulders, but before a week
or two has passed nature will work her own remedy,
and demand will create supply of muscle, if the strain
is not shirked. Again—a further cause for bad
sliding: Oarsmen often fancy that sliding, because
it confessedly increases speed, is, therefore, to be done
for its own sake, apart from body work. The same
men on fixed seats would not think of kicking out their
legs before they felt the strain of the oar on the
shoulders. They would apply the legs only as a sup-
port to the body, as depending upon the use of the
body for being called into play, and not coming into
play till the body had just commenced its work, and
required support. But they throw this theory, which
is analogous to that of proper sliding, to the winds,
when they get upon a slide. They set to work at
once to slide for the sake of sliding, and body work
is accordingly sacrificed.

Now, the theory of sliding should be simply this :—
1. That the body does its own work, as a sine qud non,
as heretofore on a fixed seat. 2. That the legs back
up the body as before, but, instead of a mere rigid
resistance as formerly, simply propping the pivot of
action in its place while the body hinged upon it, the
legs now do still more. They gradually, after they
have commenced to support the body in the usual
way, move the pivot of action farther back by
SLIDING SEATS. : 99

extending themselves, but do so not too fast to allow
the body, still as before, to sustain itself by them, and
to do its work. (If the legs are lashed out too fast
the body cannot, by sheer want of power, do its own
share of work in the same time. It gets behindhand.
Nor could the shoulders bear the strain if the body
completed its swing as fast as the legs are capable of
completing their slide. The result is that, in such a
case, the legs complete their slide while the body is
but half through the swing. The remaining part of
the swing has, therefore, to be rowed without any
leg-work to support it.) Thus, the fact of using the
legs too violently at the commencement of the slide
does not press the oar any harder against the water,
even at the beginning, for there is a limit of strain
which the body can stand. To meet this, if the slide
moves too fast, the swing must during that time move
slower, so that the shoulders may not move back faster
than their capacity for enduring the strain of the
oar will admit of, The extra strain, therefore, which
the too sudden use of the legs entails simply takes
the place of that strain which the body could cause.
Meantime the body, unable to get through its work
as fast as the legs can get through theirs, finds, when
it wants to complete its own task of swing, that the
legs have shot out too straight to render any support
for the swing. Let a man, therefore, throw his body
on to the oar as before, when on a fixed seat; the in-
stant he does this his legs instinctively come into
play to support the body. Then, while he insists
upon carrying out his original swing, let him gra-
dually extend his legs, and shift the pivot of action
backwards as he swings upon it, taking care that the
pivot is never moved too fast to admit of the body
doing its full and usual swing. In fact, the latter
may be carried much farther back—indeed should be
100 OARS AND SCULLS.

so—than would admit of good recovery on a fixed
seat; for the facilities for recovery which a sliding
seat gives enable a man to go much farther back than
on a fixed seat, and yet to gain rather than lose
power by so doing. But this will more fully be
treated of when referring to the proper action of
recovery when sliding, in another chapter.
{or lol Y

CHAPTER XIII.

SLIDING SEATS—(continued.)

WE pointed out in the preceding chapter that the
too common fault in the use of sliding seats is slide
either before swinging, or at such a pace that swing
cannot possibly keep up with it. Also, that the cor-
rect use of the slide was first to throw the body on to
the oar in the same way as on a fixed seat, with legs
for the instant rigid to support the body, and then
so soon as the legs begin to feel the weight of the
body to let them gradually extend themselves, shift-
ing aft the pivot of action while the body swings
upon it, the slide being economised so as to last out
the swing. If it is brought too rapidly to a close
the swing must delay from sheer want of physical
power to force the shoulders back in the arc of swing
at more than a certain pace; and if the slide thus gets
ahead of the swing, the remainder of the swing has
to be completed with legs fully extended, and there-
fore no longer capable of supporting the body to do
its full work. Slide and swing should be then (as
soon as the latter has led the way by calling upon
the legs for support) to all intents and purposes con-
temporaneous during the stroke. Now, on fixed seats
the recovery is exactly the converse of the stroke,
1. e., the hands, which come in to the chest at the end
of the stroke, shoot out from it at the commencement
of the recovery; and whereas the arms are rigid
102 OARS AND SCULLS.

through the first part of the stroke, they are rigid
during the last part of the recovery; so, to put it in
another light, inasmuch as the body swings forward
in recovery as far as it swings back in the stroke,
then, at any point of that swing in recovery, the arms
and body are in the same relative position to each
other as they were in a similar point of the stroke—
only the recovery goes over the ground the reverse
way, the last being first, and the first last.

But on sliding seats the best form of recovery is not
quite a converse of the action of the stroke. The
hands follow the same rule as on a fixed seat, viz., a
quick shoot out, and the rest of the recovery per-
formed with rigid arms; but, with regard to the re-
_ lations between slide and swing, these do not repeat
conversely the action of the stroke. In the latter
the crucial point was that slide should not run away
from swing, but in recovery it may with advantage
do so. The body should not wait for the slide to
complete its task, and then follow, but for all that it
may allow the slide to hurry in advance of it, follow-
ing meantime at a reasonable pace, and completing
the swing after the slide forward has been completed.
The reasons for this are:—1. That the pace of the
slide gives an impetus forward to the body, and so
facilitates its swing on its own pivot, thus easing the
strain upon the abdominal muscles, which in former
chapters were stated to be the set of muscles weakest
for their work that are called into play in rowing.
2. The body for its own recovery depends much upon
the legs, and the legs give a stronger support to the
recovery when bent than when extended. If, there-
fore, the slide is complete and the legs thoroughly
bent before the body completes its swing forward,
that latter part of the body’s swing is performed
with less exertion to the abdominal muscles, and the
SLIDING SEATS. 103

staying powers of the oarsman are proportionately
increased.

The recovery of the slide itself should be performed
by contracting all the flexor muscles of the legs and
feet simultaneously—the ankle and knee should
work together. The mere bending of the knee, so
long as the foot is kept flat to the stretcher, will
suffice to bend the ankle joint, even if the muscles
that work the latter are passive; but the ankle
should be active, and not merely passive, and should
take its own share in the work of the slide.

The length of the stretcher should be as short as can
be used while allowing the hands to clear the knees
as they pass each other during the stroke. The
hands, by being shot out quickly on the recovery,
get in front of the knees before the latter have come
to an acute bend, and at the moment that the water
is caught at the commencement of the stroke the
knees should be actually higher than the hands by
some three inches. The legs should never be straight
at the end of the stroke ; there should always be some
bend left at the knees, not only to afford proper sup-
port to the body at the end of the swing, but also to
facilitate the recovery; for when the knees are
straight the mechanical power of the flexor muscles
is at a “ dead point,” and the extra exertion of get-
ting the legs under way is not compensated for by
any work gained by the extra length of slide to the
point when the legs are thus straightened. Whereas,
if the legs are slightly bent at the commencement of
the recovery the muscles work to greater advantage,
and the flexion is completed with greater ease.

In teaching a crew how to slide, the coach must,
as in former cases on fixed seats, himself superintend
the placing of the work of the men. First, the slant of
the stretchers should be considerable. KEven on fixed
104 OARS AND SCULLS.

seats stretchers are often too perpendicular. On a
sliding seat, with the extra bend of the ankle joint,
a good slant is more than ever imperative; if, as is
usual, the boat-builder is at fault in this respect, the
coach must see that each man has thick heel pieces
of wood to place the foot at the proper angle, which
may be about fifty degrees with the kelson. Secondly,
the straps must be tight, and, of course, grasping
both feet, not across the tips of the toes, as many
builders set their straps, but crossing the foot at the
root of the big toe. Thirdly, he must himself arbi-
trarily regulate the length of each man’s stretcher,
and insist upon its being short enough to raise the
knees well above the level of the hands when forward
with the oar in the water. Fourthly, he should
teach his men to keep the knees well apart, as on a
fixed seat. Too many oarsmen on a sliding seat
place both knees together. So far as the legs go,
they gain more power by so doing, but the body
cannot get so well forward, nor do its work so
strongly with closed as it can with opened knees,
and, as before said, sliding must never be made an ex-
cuse for abandoning the proper action of the body.
Fifthly, the oars used must be longer than those for
fixed seats. The ordinary oar handle will, with the
extra reach obtained by sliding, be found to lie too far
inside the body at full reach forward and backward
by some two inches. If the oar is thus too short, the
oarsman cannot swing well back, and yet keep his
inside hand both on the oar and yet flat to his ribs
and doing its proper work. The oars, therefore,
must be lengthened in-board to allow for the extra
reach, and with that addition a certain proportionate
length out-board must be added, else the oar will
come too easily through the water.

Then, having set his work right, let him be content

 
SLIDING SEATS 105

to commence with a three-inch slide, having stops of
wood to block the slide from running its full length
at first. If the crew have only a short slide to master,
when learning the first action, they are less likely to
make slide the ne plus ultra, and will find it easier to
combine slide duly with swing. The short slide
thus allowed to start with should be, to all intents
and purposes, the fore part of the slide, so that the
legs, when the slide is over, are, after all, little, if
anything, straighter than they would be on a fixed
seat. We say to all intents and purposes, because
in first taking to sliding the unusual bend of the
ankle joint causes a cramped feeling in the legs, and
as this wears off the pupil will be able to bend his
legs still more, and to slide forward farther than he
could at first. But the earliest slide should be from
as far forwards as the pupil can slide to the stop that
checks the slide back. When this extent of slide has
been mastered, say at the end of ten days, more or
less, let another inch back be added, and in turn
mastered, and so on, till the use of a nine-inch slide
is acquired, without in any way sacrificing slide to
swing. If sliding had been learnt like this by modern
crews, the feeble exhibitions displayed as a rule—
mere piston action of the legs, without swing of body,
would have been probably avoided. Though a nine-
inch slide can be properly used in good practice, it
by no means follows that a coach should feel himself
bound to try to work a raw crew up to use of this
length for their first race of this sort. All depends
upon the time available, and the proficiency of his
pupils. Tt is better to make sure of mastering a cer-
tain amount of slide than to risk spoiling all by at-
tempting too much. More pace will be gained by a
six-inch slide, combined with good swing of body,
than by a nine-inch with swing abandoned; and the
106 OARS AND SCULLS.

former will not sow seeds of future bad rowing, as
will the latter.

The men may be taught to swing well back, farther
than they would on fixed seats; for, as explained
when treating of the recovery in this chapter, the
slide so facilitates the recovery of the body that the
strain upon the abdominal muscles, which was the
difficulty on fixed seats, no longer exists as a reason
for not going far beyond the perpendicular.

Whatever may be the amended style of sliding a
few years hence, it is certain that at the present day
a coach will find as much custom in curing bad sliding
as in teaching the art de novo to those who have never
essayed it, and he will find the former the harder
task of the two. Badly laid-out work, too long a
stretcher (possibly because too perpendicular to ad-
mit of sufficient bend of the ankles), or an oar too
short in-board, may be in some cases the main cause
of bad sliding, and alterations in these respects may
go a long way towards amendment. But if there is
time, in the case of a crew or a club that have got
into a thoroughly vicious style (such as Oxford,
with but few exceptions, exhibited in 1873), the best
way to commence cure is to go back for a time to
fixed seats, and so recall to the men the standard use
of loins and back, which they have been neglecting
for their new toy. A good spell of fixed-seat rowing,
followed by a gradual re-introduction to the slide—
inch by inch—will teach combination of slide and
swing. The difficulty, however, with offenders of
this class is, that, unlike mere tyros, who feel their
own ignorance, and try to learn, they are for the
most part oarsmen of a certain amount of proficiency,
on fixed seats at least, and prone to believe that they
are not such fools as they look. Also, the undeniable
sensation of novel power which a piston-like action
SLIDING SEATS. 107

of legs, void of swing, gives, and the fact that even
bad sliding obtains more pace than good fixed-seat
rowing, go far to delude such men that they are, after
all, in the right. It is only when they feel a practical
comparison between really good sliding and their
own hybrid style, that they become enlightened.
The first principle that we laid down for a coach was
to keep his temper, and he will need the faculty
more than ever when attempting to mend bad slid-
ing in those men with whom a little knowledge is
dangerous.
108 OARS AND SCULLS.

CHAPTER XIV.
SCULLING,

THE designation of these chapters is hardly con-
sistent with the comparatively minor space which
sculling must occupy alongside of those chapters
which have been devoted to oarsmanship. As when
opening the subject of rowing, an elaborate descrip-
tion of what sculling is, ab initio, would be waste of
time. Those who do not know it on the water would
not learn it from paper.

If a man has a fair idea of rowing, but has never
handled sculls in any shape, we would advise him to
commence thus: —1. To keep clear of a sculling boat
for the first day or two. 2. To hold in equally pious
horror “hack” boats of any description, especially
“ whiffs.” If bad style is engendered by badly laid
out work at the oar, it is equally, if not more so, at
sculls. When handling an oar, a tyro has some
chance of being coached, and of having his seat,
rowlock, stretcher, and oar examined for him; but
when “on his own hook ” in a sculling boat he stands
but little chance of such superintendence. And the
worst is, that from his very inexperience he is no
judge of what is good for his own peace—it is hid
from his eyes. If he has a good opinion of himself,
he is likely to lay all faults of his own clumsiness to
his tools; if modest, he may assume his tools to be
perfect, the fault of discomfort to be his own, accom-
modate himself accordingly to circumstances, and so

 
SOULLING. 109

lay the seeds of faults that will mar his style and
pace for some time to come. However, that he may
get an idea of what this “feel” of sculling work
should be, uninfluenced by unsteadiness of craft,
before he commits himself to a wager boat, let him
look out for a good outrigged gig in which to com-
mence operations. A “dingey” he should fight shy
of; she is so short that when pressed she will hold
no “way,” will turn too easily, and from the fact that
she goes no faster for a long stroke, may teach him to
row short from the outset. Let him see that the
thowls of his gig are “proud” (raking forward),
and devoid of grooves in the upper portions of the
thowl, worn by the upper angle only of the loom of
the scull pressing the thowlin a feather under water,
which is too common among scullers. Let him next
see that his stopper is far enough off from the thowl
to prevent his sculls from “locking” in the rowlock
when forward. This is a necessary precaution. Few
gig rowlocks are wide enough between thowl and
stopper for even full reach in rowing, without some
filing away of the stopper, and a wider rowlock is
needed for sculling than for rowing, from the sharper
angle which the scull, compared to the oar, makes
with the rowlock (when the body is forward), from
the fact of its being shorter inboard. If the tyro
confines his reach in his first essay to that suffered
by narrow rowlocks, he will, when he comes to reach
out more fully in the wider rowlocks of a sculling
boat, find his hands not “together” in the increased
reach, but one getting into the water before the
other. The best way to hold his sculls, so as to
avoid cramp of wrist, and to prevent his hand shift-
ing away from the end of the scull when greasy
with perspiration (thus losing leverage), is to let the
upper joint of the thumb “cap” the end of the
110 OARS AND SCULLS.

handles. Let him put his stretcher as short as he

can possibly bear it, and of course commence with
a fixed seat, even if he has been ever so proficient in
rowing upon a slide. He will have enough to do in
thinking how to get his hands in and out of the
water together, when commencing sculling, to have
any spare attention to bestow upon sliding, and if he
practises the latter without thought he may breed
faults for which he will be sorry hereafter. Let him
choose a pair of sculls that lie true in the rowlocks,
and, if possible, let him get a proficient to test the
true bearing of the sculls for him before he uses
them, that he may know whether unevenness in their
action be the result of misfortune or of fault. The
amount that they should overlap at the hands is to
some extent entirely a matter for his own taste, but
if he has no taste in the matter he will find five
inches a safe medium. Let him spend his first two
or three days, if not more, in long steady grinds in
his gig. The same principles that he learnt in row-
ing—of straight arms when the water is first caught,
use of back, loins, and legs—he must still put in
force. But he should keep his arms straight for a
longer distance of swing, and may go much farther
back before he begins to bend his arms and to bring
them in to his body than when rowing. As his arms
begin to near the body he may bring himself up by
them, pull himself up to his sculls at the finish, a
thing which with his oar he should not do. The
reason for this variety in recovery between sculling
and rowing are: (1) That the body having gone
farther back requires some extra aid in the recovery,
to ease the abdominal muscles in the longer distance
that they have to convey the body. (2) The easing
of the weight of the body from the loins, by thus
pulling it up to the sculls at the finish, prevents the
SCULLING. 111

boat’s head from being “ pressed,” and her way from
being stopped. A sculler should endeavour to do as
much work as he can with stiff arms, his body and
loins doing the main duty; he may go back almost
to his full available distance before he bends his
arms at all ; if he were then to continue to go back
still further, all the time that his arms were coming
in to the body, he would go back too far for his
powers of recovery. If he were to stop his body for
his arms to overtake it, he would be during that
time making no use of his body, and wasting time
with it; but by commencing recovery with the body
before the arms have come home he economises his
body, wastes no time, eases his recovery, and prevents
his boat’s head from burying. So much for the action
of body and arms; his hands must require special
attention. He must try to time them to the tenth of
a second, that the sculls shall fall into the water simul-
taneously, and shall leave the water, with wrists
simultaneously turned, at the same instant. If he
does not acquire this knack in the gig to some extent
he will find himself all abroad in a wager boat. So
soon as he has some confidence in the even action of
his hands (which long and painstaking rows will best
attain) he can go into a wager boat. When first he
50 promotes himself he must call all his watermanship
into play. He must “sit” the boat for himself; no
one else will do it for him. He must not trust to his
sculls to steady the boat on the recovery, nor let
them slobber along the surface of the water to pre-
serve balance. He must drop his hands and lift the
sculls boldly out when the stroke is finjshed. Rollat
first he will, but for this he must make up his mind,
and must try to counteract it by balance of his body,
and by sitting tight, not by sliding his sculls along
the surface of the water to steady himself. If he
112 OARS AND SCULLS.

does this last he may counteract unsteadiness, but
will never acquire the art of balance, nor cure the
faults that caused him to roll—will rather add to
them by feathering under water, and will lose inches
and inches of shoot at each stroke by thus fouling
the water. Too much stress cannot be laid upon
truly laid out work and sculls to start with. Half
the crab-like contortions that junior, and even senior,
scullers display (one arm bent before the other, one
shoulder shrugged, one arm longer in the reach than
the other, or one rowed home, and the other finishing
inches away from the chest), may be traced to uneven
sculls or work which prevent the body from throwing
equal weight upon each arm. It is true that many
scullers spring at once to a wager boat without an
apprenticeship in a steady gig, but they do not be-
come proficient any sooner for so doing, and many a
sculler in a wager boat who cannot get his hands in
time, and spoils his style and steadiness in con-
sequence, would obviate half his difficulties if he
would condescend to do two or three long rows in a
well laid-out gig, paying special attention to the
uniformity of his hands.

Steering is an all-important accomplishment for a
sculler, not only to save distance, but also to avoid
risk of fouling when he comes to racing. If the
course is pretty clear the sculler will soon learn not
to trust to looking round more than to get his boat's
head straight for the reach of water in which he is,
and then he will keep his eyes on the stern of his
boat, and regulate that by some distant object ashore,
as an artilleryman lays a gun, so as to keep the
straight line in which he has laid his boat. It
stands to reason that he shortens the reach of the
arm on which side he turned his head to look behind
him, and loses his power. As he gets to know a
SCULLING. 113

particular course well, he will fall back each time
upon the same steerage points for guidance, and only
those who have sculled to utter distress can appre-
ciate the gain of being able to take up, almost by
force of habit, and without any exertion of calcula-
tion in the mind, each necessary steerage point in
turn over a well-known course. As he watches his
boat’s stern the sculler will be able to judge of the
evenness of action of his hands. He can see whether
they work evenly throughout the stroke, or whether
one rows the other round in the first part, and has to
slacken to allow the other to bring the boat straight
in the finish of the stroke. If this is dome, he will
see that not only does he lose ground by the boat’s
wake being thus an elongated Z at each stroke, but
also he loses power by one hand working weaker than
the other at one time, and the other at another. If
he can bring the hand that is weakest in the first
part of the stroke up to the level of the other, he
will gain not only in this, but will also no longer
have to waste strength with the other hand at the
finish. In his steering he must be on the watch to
correct the first beginning of deviation from his
course, and to adjust the work of each hand accord-
ingly. In time he will learn to keep his sternpost
true to his steerage object, without having constantly
to awake to the consciousness that he is many degrees
out of his due line, and so having not only to waste
strength in rectifying it, but also to lose ground in
returning to his lost track. Steerage apparatus now
takes much of the labour off the arms of righting
the boat in its course; but a tyro will learn best to
work evenly with both hands if at first he dispenses
with such apparatus. The power of rectifying un-
evenness by a touch of the foot upon the steerage
lever tempts many a man to be careless of studying
I
114 OARS AND SCULLS.

even work of both hands, which would obviate con-
stant appliance of the rudder. Besides, the best
fitted rudder must more or less “draw” the water,
and so check “way;” and so on smooth water a
sculler who can use his hands evenly, and can steer
a good course without it, nor has many tortuous
corners to navigate, will go faster without a rudder
than with one. Further details of sculling will occupy
the next chapter.

 
Cs)

CHAPTER XV.

SCULLING—(continued).

Arn that holds good of rowing on a sliding seat
applies equally to sculling. The first thing to be
acquired is use of body, backed up by rigid pressure
of the legs against the stretcher. When this has
been attained on a fixed seat, the action of the legs
is changed from a rigid resistance to a gradual
extension of the limbs, and thus the slide is formed.
It must be borne in mind that the slide should depend
upon the swing, and should be restricted so as to be
co-existent with it. If the slide is done too rapidly,
the swing has to wait till the slide is over—for the
physique of the body is unequal to the task of driving
the back through the full length of its swing in the
same short time that the legs are capable of shooting
themselves out over their minor extent of reach, nor
could the shoulder-sockets stand the strain. The
body, therefore, has to wait—if the slide hurries—
and to do its work when the legs have done theirs.
In that case there is no longer sufficient support left
in the extended legs to enable the body to do its full
share. The result is that it swings back compara-
tively feebly, and is unable to go beyond the per-
pendicular.

Length of stroke tells in any craft, but more in a
sculling than a rowing boat. The longer the stroke
the less frequent repetition it requires, and, there-
fore, the slower can be the swing forward. This
1i6 OARS AND SOULLS.

latter not only tells upon the physique of the sculler,
by sparing the strain of recovery, but it also tells
upon the travel of the boat, for a quick rush for-
wards ducks the stern under water, and causes the
boat to lose way, not only from being out of the
plane of the water, but also from the weight of
water lying for the instant upon her canvas, which
increases the “surface resistance” (or the extent of
superficies of the hull, which is brought into contact
with the water, and so into friction with and attrac-
tion to the particles of water). This may seem an
infinitesimal difference, and a tyro may think that
water, being so smooth, can exercise no friction.
But any yacht-builder will endorse the theory of
surface resistance ; and that of attraction is palpable
from the manner in which water adheres to a boat
after it is lifted out of water. Thus, even sup-
- posing it were no greater physical exertion to row a
certain number of shorter strokes, which in their
combined measurement of sweep equalled a certain
number of longer and slower strokes (a supposition
which every oarsman knows to be impracticable),
still the longer and slower stroke would command
more pace of the two, for the reasons above assigned.

It is possible to scull a much longer stroke than
can be rowed. The reach forward of the body has

the same approximate limits in each case. If any-
thing, a sculler can reach his hands an inch or two
farther forward than the oarsman, for the latter just
at the end of his reach has his handle a little inside
of him, his arms sloping across him, and not square
to his body. The sculler is not thus cramped; his
arms shoot out square to his body on each side. But
it is in the swing back that the sculler gains mostly
in reach. If the oarsman goes too far back before
bending his arms, the end of his oar handle lies
SOULLING. 117

inside his body, and his power of finish, especially
with the inside arm, is hampered, for the forearm
can then no longer be parallel to the body. If his
oar were made long enough inboard to enable him
to go as far back as a sculler, it would cause his arms
to be lying outside his body when the oar was at
right angles to the gunwale, the period of the stroke
when the mechanical power is greatest. A sculler,
on the other hand, is always able to throw his
weight in a direct line ; his hands, though nearer or
farther from each other at various periods of the
stroke, always bear a strain corresponding in direction
in the case of each, i.e., the joint direction of the two
powers, right and left, according to a * parallelogram
of forces,” would be in a line with the keel of the
boat. Thus, however far the sculler goes back, his
hands jointly never pull out of the line of the keel.
So that it comes to this: the stroke of the oarsman
is limited in length, because, beyond a certain angle
of the oar with the gunwale, the body and arms
cannot do their work in the plane of the keel nor in
the same plane with each other. The stroke of the
sculler is unfettered in this respect, and is limited
eventually only by mechanical requirements (the limit
of the angle which the scull can make with the thowl,
without locking) and by the demands of recovery.
This latter, even on a fixed seat, is easier work than
in rowing, for the "body when far back can pull up
to the sculls. In rowing, as said above, this pulling
up is not practised, because (1) with a medium swing
back it is not wanted, and the body should continue
to go back till the hands overtake it; (2), with a
swing back as far as sculling admits of, an oarsman
would be unable to recover himself squarely by his
oar handle, for it would be inside his body, and out of
the true plane. If, therefore, recovery is a matter of
118 OARS AND SCULLS.

greater ease in sculling than in rowing (compared to
the length of reach), even on a fixed seat, it is obvious
that on a sliding seat there should be less difficulty
in the return swing. The fact that the arms of the
sculler are always jointly working in a line with the
keel, and thus he is enabled to take a longer swing
than in rowing, explains why, as a matter of practice,
double sculling is faster than pair-oar rowing.

Since, therefore, the body should swing farther
back in sculling than in rowing, and slide should
always be extensive with swing, it is obvious that the
legs must extend themselves more slowly in sculling
than in rowing, else the body will have no leg-work
left to drive it back the latter portion of the swing.
As in rowing, the slide should never be so long (or
the stretcher too far from the seat) as to allow the
legs to be straight at the end of the slide. If they
are allowed to straighten, not only is the latter
portion of the swing weakened, but the powers of
recovery are also hampered, for the muscles of the
legs, when straight, being “at a dead point,” start at
a disadvantage.

The sculler should be careful not to let the finish
of the stroke with the arms be anything like a jerk.
As said above, the body should be just commencing
to recover during the last part of the bend of the
arms. If the body waits for the arms, and the latter
come into the chest with a “swish,” the only result
is that the boat’s head is buried, and “way ” lost. In
the preceding chapter we said that five inches was a
safe medium distance for the handles of the sculls to
overlap on a fixed seat. On a sliding seat the sculls,
like oars, should be a trifle longer inboard, and, of
course, in proportion outboard. This is to prevent
the hands being too far apart at the extreme reach
forwards and backwards. Sculls for a sliding seat
SCULLING. 119

may be as much as six or six-and-a-half inches over-
hand, if the sculler makes sure of going back till
his hands clear his ribs at the finish on each side of
his body. If he does not go so far back as this, then
he will do better with less overhand sculls, but with
the first-named work and action of body he will
command most pace. A sculler may take this as a
rule, that his arms should remain straight and his
body be going back till after his sculls have “opened”
in the swing back, i. e., till they are no longer over-
hand. This he can only secure by keeping a judicious
reserve of slide and leg-work up to the last.

As to which hand to row uppermost doctors dis-
agree. For mere speed in straight courses it matters
little. For practical purposes, perhaps, the left plays
best uppermost, for it frees the head to look over the
right shoulder, which in manceuvring the majority of
corners on the Oxford river, the Cam also (we think,
but stand open to correction), and the Poplar point
at Henley, is the side which requires most obser-
vation. The side on which the head turns is the
weakest for the instant, and, therefore, should, if
possible, be the side which is being rowed round.

Since the shorter the stretcher is, the more power
will be attained, it is necessary that the hands
should clear the knees on the recovery as soon as
possible, else even in smooth water they will not get
by afterwards. When once the hands have got in
front of the knees the slide forward should, as in the
recovery of rowing, be completed rapidly, in advance
of the body, thus giving an impetus to the body for-
ward, and easing the strain of the abdominal muscles
in swinging the body forward the last part of the
reach. The arms should shoot to full stretch as
quickly as they can after the hands have cleared the
knees. This throws the shoulders back, aids respi-
120 OARS AND SOULLS.

ration, and is also the most advantageous position
for the arms to carry the weight of the sculls for-
ward. No pair of sculls is ever the worse for an
ounce or two of lead let into the butts of the handles.
Any sculler who tries this will be surprised to find
how it eases the weight of the sculls outboard, with-
out adding any perceptible burden to the cargo of
the boat. When forward the hands will be much
lower than the knees. In the swing back the hands
should, with work and stretcher properly laid out,
pass over the knees just at the instant when the
knees had lowered themselves sufficiently to admit of
the passage. It stands to reason that they cannot
pass sooner, and if they pass later, it shows that the
slide has been too rapid in proportion to the swing.
(Analysis of true and best measurements for work,
both for sculls and oars, will occupy later chapters.)

No sculler is a proficient till he is at home in rough
water and work. To manceuvre the former he must
be able to drop his hands well when required, and to
drop them evenly and simultaneously, else his trim
is spoilt. A good sculler can go through rougher
water than oars can, for the drop of the hands ele-
vates the blade of a scull more than that of an oar.
If water is very rough, a sculler must judge for him-
self whether he must not drop his hands and get
them in advance of his knees before he commences
to bend the latter at all. His recovery is slower for
so doing, but it is surer and freer from concussion
with waves.

In starting on a strong tide, with the boat’s stern
held, the sculls must be flat to the water till the word
is given, else the rush of water against the blades
will strain the boat, and perhaps pull the sculler off
his seat. Even with sculls thus flat to the last, it is
difficult to turn both so simultaneously that each
SOULLING. 121

should catch an equal amount of water the first
stroke. If they do not, not only is the boat’s course
marred at the outset, but the form of the sculler is
hampered for the next few strokes, and there is an off
chance of an upset even for a good sculler. It is
safer, and does not lose many feet of start on the
first stroke, not to be full forward at first, to go
forward a few inches more after the word to start is
given, and then to commence, with evenness of sculls
insured. In comparatively still water this caution
is unnecessary.

A sculler should get away briskly, but it is bad
policy to push for a lead at the price of forcing the
pace beyond the sculler’s best average speed. One
authority in sculling recommends quick starting, for
the sake of giving an opponent the wash. Under
the new laws of boat-racing water is taken only at
peril, and such tactics as crossing and washing do
not therefore pay so much as they formerly did. But
even under the old rules, the best scullers of the last
dozen years have been content to bide their time and
to go their own pace. Casamajor always took a lead,
it is true, but as he had the speed of all his opponents
at the end as well as the beginning of the race, it
was but natural that he should lead at first as well as
at the last. Others of note who succeeded him, if
confident that they had the pace somewhere over the
whole course, but were not sure of having the best of
it at starting, never allowed themselves to be flurried
or forced off their pace by a temporary lead of an
opponent. To a good sculler (of good pluck) who
can sit his boat, the wash of an opponent does but
little comparative harm, far less than would a burst
at starting at a pace which he could not maintain. A
sculler will always improve himself by practising
sculling in the wash of another.
122 OARS AND SCULLS.

Since a sculler should endeavour in a race to select
his best pace for the whole course, and not to be
troubled at a lead, it is necessary for him to know
almost instinctively what his best pace is. This he
will learn if he times himself day after day at various
points over his course, and notes whether, as he
increases his speed of stroke, his times from point to
point bear the same relative proportions to the time
of the entire course. He can thus judge whether
extra speed at the outset sacrifices staying powers
further on. He must only judge proportionately of
his distances and times, for wind and stream may
make the time of the whole course vary from day to
day.

In sculling on a tide, against a head wind and
rough water, it should be borne in mind that a
sculling-boat, being by its light weight easily influ-
enced by wind, and holding less way and momentum
than a larger boat, suffers more by opposition of wind
and waves in mid-tide than it loses by loss of stream
at the more sheltered sides of the river, where stream
is weaker. On the Putney course pilots are in vogue
for scullers, and fairly so, else strangers to the tide-
way would be seriously handicapped against habitués.
They steer from cutters astern of the scullers. This
takes much trouble off the sculler’s hands. He has
simply to note the point on which his stern post lies
when his pilot signals him “all right,” and to keep it
there till further notice. The simplest mode of
piloting is with a white handkerchief, held out right
or left, according as either scull requires to be pulled
harder, and over head when the course is true. Some
signal, such as taking the hat off, should be agreed
upon for “look after yourself,” which may be neces-
sary if the pilot is too far astern of his man, or some
obstruction in the course is beyond safe pilotage. A

 
: SCULLING. 123

pilot on the bank is more nuisance than use to any
decent sculler. He cannot tell the sculler of the
first small inaccuracies which spoil his course, and
constant hails to pull right or left do more harm than
good, for they can be only founded on conjecture.
The sculler can better take care of himself. Only
if he has gone some palpable “mucker,” such as
running into the bank or an obstacle, can a pilot on
shore give any information worth having. But a
coach on shore, if he can be heard above the din of
partisans, can do a sculler good by reminding him
of his form, which in excitement he may be neg-
lecting to the detriment of pace.
124 OARS AND SCULLS.

CHAPTER XVI

TRAINING—DIET AND HOURS.

HARD work trains—diet keeps the frame up to its
work. This has been the principle upon which train-
ing—of beast and man alike—has been carried out
since the benefits of “condition” were first appre-
ciated. The changes and modifications in system
that have taken place from time to time have been in
the interpretations put upon the meaning of hard
work and diet. Apart from the comparisons of old
practices with those of modern times, the different re-
quirements and appliances of winter as compared to
summer training make the two widely different in
detail, even in the present day.

For winter training: Réveille at 6.30 to 7 p.m., tub
and rub down with rough towels or flesh brush, as a
matter of course, to open the pores of the skin, then a
brisk walk of a mile, or thereabouts, before break-
fast. The walk should suffice to circulate the blood
and freshen the appetite without engendering lassi-
tude. Breakfast, chops or steaks from the gridiron
(far better than from the frying-pan), or cold meat, if
a man prefers it, for a change. If the latter, it is
best that the joint should be uncut till it is cold, thus
keeping the gravy in it. Bread one day old; the less
butter the better; dry toast by all means, vice bread
if preferred; an egg for a finish to the substantials,
if wanted, and some green meat (watercress) to wind.
up. The liquid should be tea, and should not exceed

 
TRAINING—DIET AND HOURS. 125

a couple of good breakfast cups if possible. A man
ought to be able to get down a sufficient amount of
substantials with that amount of liquid.

If the work can be divided into fore and afternoon
duty so much the better. If business interferes then
lunch should be light. At the same time, the fashion
at Oxford of confining lunch to a “commons” of
bread and butter and a glass of beer till the crew
reaches Putney (when a little meat is allowed,) is un-
reasonable. If a man wishes it, by all means let him
have a small quantity of cold or even hot meat, for
luncheon; but half a pint of beer should suffice.
Dinner should consist of roast beef or mutton—as
pitces de résistamce—fish or fowl in small quantities
every day, to precede or conclude the meal accord-
ingly. Fashion allows these luxuries but periodically
—perhaps once a week—but fashion is too often folly.
Not once in fifty times does a man get down any less
beef or mutton for having these varieties of lighter
food. They “fetch ” his appetite, and are taken as
extras, and not as substitutes, if limited judiciously
in quantity. It is better thus to give a man a few
mouthfuls of variety daily, than to confine him to a
monotony of joints till his appetite palls, and then
seek to reinstate him in his feed by an almost entire
meal of fish or fowl. Fish should be sole, turbot,
whiting, cod, mackerel—any plain fish in fact (not
salmon) and sauce should be barred. Vegetables
should comprise plenty of greens. Vinegar poured
on the latter allays thirst, and keeps down (so say
doctors, and practical experience endorses them,) adi-
pose deposit. Cress or lettuce should wind up. Pud-
dings do little good, however ¢ plain,” though they are
too commonly introduced ; nothing short of ill-health
or loss of appetite in an individual should excuse such
a diet, and then calves’ foot jelly is best. Liquids
126 OARS AND SCULLS.

should be a pint to a pint and a quarter, or even a pint
and a half on “ thirsty ” days, of ale; a couple of glasses
of claret or port, and an orange for desert. Last of
all, whether the man like it or not, half a pint of water
gruel at least (no milk in it), should be taken before
bedtime. Pour pis aller, a cup of chocolate may be
substituted, but gruel is far the best. Many men
dislike it so much that nothing short of autocracy
and compulsion on the part of the trainer can get it
down, but it is invaluable to quench thirst at night,
soothe digestion, and prevent * coppers ” in the morn-
ing. The latter is a too frequent occurrence when
gruel is shirked, and of course breakfast suffers
therefrom, and the system generally is the worse
for it.

The tendency to “coppers ” in training is no proof
of insobriety. The whole system of training is unna-
tural to the body. Itisin excess of nature. Regular
exercise and plain food are not in themselves unna-
tural, but the amount taken of each by the subject in
training is what is unnatural. The wear and tear of
tissue is more than would go on at ordinary times,
and consequently the body requires more commis-
sariat than usual to replenish the system. The
stomach has all its work cut out to supply the com-
missariat, and hence the tendency to indigestion and
heat in the stomach. A cup of gruel seldom fails to
set this to rights, and a glass of water besides may
also be allowed if the coach is satisfied that a com-
plaint of thirst is genuine. There is no greater folly
than stinting a man in his liquid. He should not be
allowed to blow himself out with drink, taking up the
room of good solid food; but to go into the other
extreme, and to spoil his appetite for want of an
extra half pint at dinner, or a glass of water at bed-
time, is a relic of barbarism. The appetite is gene-
TRAINING—-DIET AND HOURS. 127

rally greatest about the end of the first week of
training. By that time the frame has got sufficiently
into trim to stand long spells of work at not too rapid
a pace. The stomach has begun to accustom itself to
the extra demands put upon it, and as at this time
the daily waste and loss of flesh is greater than later
on, when there is less flesh to lose, so the natural
craving to replenish the waste of the day is greater
than at a later period. At this time the thirst is
great; and though drinking out of hours should be
forbidden, yet the appetite should not, for reasons
previously stated, be suffered to grow stale from want
of sufficient liquid at meal times in proportion to the
solids consumed.

In summer training, if the weather is not too hot
to allow of the rowing to be got over by 7 or 8 p.m.
at latest, the regimen may be as follows :—Réveille,
stroll, and breakfast same as in winter; dinner 2 p.m. ;
supper 8 to 8.30 p.m.—supper to consist of cold meat
or steaks and chops, and a pint or more of ale. Wine,
if taken, should be in the middle of the day. There
is no great objection to lunch and dinner taking the
place of early dinner and supper, providing the
weather is not too hot to admit of the work being got
over by 6.30 pm. But a heavy meal like dinner
should not come later than 7 p.m. Gruel, the last
thing, should be enforced in either case. If the
weather is very hot, it is better to turn night into day
than to knock men up by scalding them in the sun.
Even supposing that they will have eventually to race
under a mid-day sun, previous practice under the cir-
cumstances of the race day will do more harm than
good. It will not harden or acclimatise them. Rather
it will make them stale, and not so fit to stand the tax
on their powers when the race day arrives. On days
such as frequently occur in Henley training, where
128 OARS AND SOULLS.

the heat of the sun blisters the arms, and perspiration
pours off the body even when quiescent, there is no
harm (however unorthodox such a suggestion may
sound) in lying in bed till 8 or 8.30 a.m., and not
commencing rowing till 7.30 p.m. ; supper at 9 or 9.30,
and bed at 11.30. Regularity of hours is, of course
an advantage, but if temperature is irregular, hours
of meals and exercise must accommodate themselves
to circumstances.

If a trainer can trust his men, or keep a personal
eye upon them, the morning tub and stroll may
be turned into a bathe. But this should be simply a
plunge in and out again; no striking out for a swim,
more than is required to regain the bank. Even a
second header is one too many. In training a crew
rules must be adhered to, and exceptions suffered, at
discretion of the captain, only to prove the stringency
of the rule. Of course it seems preposterous to
suppose that every man in a crew should require the
same modicum of drink, when appetite variesin each.
But authority is with difficulty preserved if rule be
not followed, and more is lost than gained if excep-
tions are too frequently allowed. Autocracy is the
first requisite for a trainer, and implicit subordina-
tion for a crew. In training asculler or a pair, judg-
ment can lay down its own programme from day to
day with a variety and accommodation that would be
impossible in training an eight-oar.

It is a mistake to turn men out of bed too early, as
is often the case with crews in summer who have
been at work and feeding late overnight. Young
men under twenty-two or twenty-three, not yet “set”
in weight, even though they may have done growing,
are none the worse for a good nine hours’ sleep. The
fact of their being awake before the nine hours are
completed is no excuse for turning them out of bed.

 
TRAINING—DIET AND HOURS, 129

Rather the contrary. If the heat of the weather has
made them sleep less soundly, at least they should
not be grudged recumbent rest, even though sleep
cannot be obtained the whole time. But mid-day
dozing, or siestas after meals, should never be per-
mitted. This sort of rest only spoils digestion, and
makes men feel slack and “limp,” without in any way
relieving fatigue.

In summer a small quantity of fresh fruit may be
allowed with advantage. Strawberries and grapes
are about the only available fruit in June; but if
training should take place in later months, peaches
and other wall fruit, and gooseberries do no harm.
Feathered game (not wild duck), if perfectly fresh,
may wind up the meal in August and September. It
will be so much nourishment gained, and the beef
and mutton will not lose custom from the fact of there
being a bonne bouche for a finale. Of summer vege-
tables, asparagus and kidney beans are best; cauli-
flower is useful ; young green peas will do no harm in
small quantities, though fashion is against them.
Broad beans should be avoided if possible. Arti-
chokes (not the root called Jerusalem), may be allowed
in September. Soup should never be allowed at a
meal. But if a man suffers from thirst, and his
system really requires more liquid than the standard
measure ruled for the crew, a cup of strong beef tea
in the evening (not to take the place of his gruel) may
be allowed. It takes up no more room than water,
and is, of course, more strengthening. It should not
precede a meal, for it takes up the room of substantial
food; but when the food taken at a meal has begun to
pass from the stomach to the intestines, then, if thirst
is painful, beef tea will do no harm. University
trainers and oarsmen of past years will, perhaps, look
suspiciously at such a suggestion, but those who have

K
130 : OARS AND SOULLS.

tried it attest that it soothes thirst and facilitates
digestion without hampering the “wind.” A certain
proportion of fluid is necessary for the stomach; the
digestion cannot be properly performed, for in very
hot weather so much liquid is lost by the system by
perspiration, that an extra supply is imperative, else
the salival glands are stinted in their supply, and de-
glutition and digestion suffer accordingly. Whitebait
may in summer be added to thelist of fish. Herrings
we never have tried, so will offer no practical opinion
on them ; but there seems no great reason why they
should not beallowed. Champagne stimulates appe-
tite, and if allowed occasionally, will induce an
average of half a pound more of food or more to be
added to the consumption of each man’s meal. At
such a price champagne is well worth having, though
in itself, perhaps, a trifle less feeding than beer; but
it should be decanted beforehand, and mixed with a
half to two-thirds of a bottle of seltzer,* (not soda)
water, to each bottle of champagne. No other wine
should be allowed during the meal. Of this mixture
a man may have at least a pint and a half without
detriment.

If a man finds that he cannot get off his flesh, and
80 clear his wind, with the ordinary routine of work,
then—better than giving him extra wear and tear—
his sugar (if he takes it) should be cut off. With
some digestions sugar makes no difference; with
others, an ounce or two of sugar in a day makes a
pound or so of fat, which, but for the sugar, would
have turned into muscle. A man who shuts off his .
sugar, though at first his tea tastes nauseous without
it, will probably loathe the taste of sugar, and never

* Apollinaris may probably be as good as seltzer, though the
author has never practically tried it for himself.

 

 
TRAINING—DIET AND HOURS. 131

revert to it again after a month’s dispensation. The
four or five lumps that a man would take at his break-
fast and in his nightly gruel, would with some men
put on more fat in one day than a two-mile run would
take off. !

Further details of diet, of the work to be done in
training, of contretemps of training, and their reme-
dies will occupy the next chapter.
132 OARS AND SCULLS.

CHAPTER XVII

TRAINING (continued) —AMOUNT OF EXERCISE—
TEMPORARY AILMENTS.

As a rule a crew has been, to a great extent, in
regular practice, and is already in a half-trained state
before it commences “strict training.” Work done
in training, especially the earlier weeks, must, there-
fore, depend upon the state of condition in which the
men commence training. It must also depend upon
the age of individuals, and still further upon the
time available for preparation: e. g., the time avail-
able for selection and training of a college eight
for summer races is never sufficient to get the men
reilly into best condition. They can be got fairly
“fit” in the time—capable of struggling over the
course in some shape or other, but not what they
might be were more time allowed. Senior men, who
have laid by since the summer before, have often an
accumulation of fat, which would take more like
three months to work off and to replace by requisite
muscle. In a short course this does not matter so
much ; the utter collapse and failure of condition,
which results sooner or later, comes in these cases
almost at the winning post, whereas in longer courses
the failure would be long before the finish.

But it must not be supposed that because thorough
condition is more essential over a long than a short
course, therefore it is unimportant over the latter.
To get a man to the highest pitch of condition for
TRAINING —AMOUNT OF EXERCISE. 133

any course, he ought (if constitutionally capable of
the wear and tear) to reduce his fat (if any) equally
and as gradually in any case. Some persons, espe-
cially young men, under twenty-one, have little or no
superfluous flesh to work off. They do not, therefore,
want much sweating down, but for all that, long
training, if not too severe, tends to harden them, and
often increases their weight. The work for a crew
would vary in pace and distance according to the
date and distance of the race; reduction should,
theoretically, be effected in all cases, and muscle
should, by hard work and good diet, be made to
supply the place of the dislodged fat. But a certain
amount of light work at the last is always valuable.
This brings a man stronger to the post, without
materially impairing his wind, when once the internal
fat of the body has been worked off. And this
amount of rest should depend upon the distance of
the race. Weight adds to strength, so long as it
does not hamper wind, and if the course is short,
weight may be suffered to re-accumulate at the last,
with advantage—pro rata—according to the length
of the course. The weight thus put on with rest is
not internal fat, and, therefore, does not hamper
condition.

So far theoretically. Practically this is seldom
carried out over short courses. Over long courses
the value of condition is so undeniable that bad men
trained will beat good men untrained. Over short
courses the small percentage gained by perfect and
long-prepared condition over ordinarily decent yet
hurried condition, is of such minor significance that
its apparent value is often unregarded by reason of
the difference in superiority of individual competing.
Class, over a short course, tells more than condition
when in the latter there is no glaring discrepancy,

i
134 OARS AND SCULLS.

yet this must not allow rowing men to be possessed
of the idea that every ounce does not tell in the long
run, and that long training, even for a half-mile
course, will not make a perceptible difference in pace
before the winning post is reached. And at no time
"does condition tell more than when more than one
race has to be rowed in the day. The well-trained
man will “ come again.” The half-trained man will
in his second race be but a shadow of what he was in
his first.

Supposing a crew en masse to start work in a fleshy
state, and after a long spell of rest from hard physi-
cal exercise, the amount of rowing to be done by the
crew must be regulated at the discretion of the coach.
He must judge of the exertions entailed by the row-
ing. A rough crew—or one hampered with sundry
duffers—feels severity of work more than one of first-
class oars. Bach stroke in the former case is greater
labour. But whatever the distance rowed may be
it should at first be at a slow stroke, and the full
complement of exertion and sweating in the day
should be made up by running. This latter is too
much overlooked by modern crews. The run may be
any time but before breakfast, according to circum-
stances and convenience, and should be from three-
fourths of a mile to one and a half or even two miles.
Running should usually bedispensed with at least two
weeks before a race. The reason for running is this:
Fat must be got off and wind cleared. This must be
done by exertion and pace, and itis better at first that
the “ blowing” should be done on foot; for by this
means the rowing is kept to a slow stroke, at which
the men can cure faults and acquire uniformity,
while condition is all the time in progress. If running
is stinted, either condition suffers or it is obtained at
the expense of the rowing, by forcing the men to a
TRAINING—AMOUNT OF EXERCISE. 135

quick stroke, so as to clear their wind and sweat
them down, before they have got together. A crew
that has rowed a slow stroke, and has meantime got
fit by running, will row a quick stroke with more
uniformity later on than a crew which has done no
running, but has got fit by fast rowing. The latter
crew has always been abroad when “ blown,” and so
has contracted faults. The latter, when the time
for quick strokes comes, is like machinery in action,
fit in wind, and has, therefore, neither exhaustion nor
irregularity to throw it out of gear when the fast
stroke is essayed.

In a four mile course, for men of full growth and
habit of body, and leading a sedentary life, three
months’ training is required to bring them to real
concert pitch. They can attain within five per cent.
of that condition in about one month, but the per-
fecting five per cent. is what turns the scale in a race
unless there is a vast superiority of style or physique
on one side. In such a case as three months’ train-
ing, the first six weeks would be mere regular mode-
rate exercise, abstention from smoking (gradually at
first, if much of a habit), good diet, and moderate
amount of fluid, not so strict in limit as later on.
The alcoholic supply should be no more at this date
than later on, but extra fluid qud “washes” may
be suffered. This six weeks will bring a man of
sedentary habits to much the same frame in which a
University oar or ordinarily active rowing man com-
mences his “strict training” of six weeks. Many
persons advise an aperient dose to commence training
of any sort. If the habit of body has been sedentary
up to this date this is a good prelude, but it should
not “commence” training, i.e., hard work should not
commence till the effect of the dose has passed off; it
should be a prelude before training commences. The
136 OARS AND SCULLS.

long rows are of value to get a crew together, even
when the course of the race is a short one; but when,
as for college eights, the space for training is short,
long rows should be resorted to but sparingly, or
they may reduce men too fast and too rapidly, and
spoil their strength. It does not pay to work men too
hard when time is short. It is of no use to work
their fat off if the time is too brief for muscle to
grow in its place. “Beef” constitutes strength to a
great extent, and should not be got rid of faster than
muscle can be laid on in its room. A college eight
cannot be expected to be more than half trained for
college races. If it is overworked and weak it does
not follow that it is “ overtrained;” but simply that
there is not time for the “six weeks” system of hard
work which has been fallaciously adopted to fit into
three weeks; the men, therefore, come to the post in
the weakest stage of training—fat worked off, and no
muscle on. At such a stage they are only fit to row
slow. If they are then asked to race no wonder they
break down; but if they could have a further three
weeks they would come out fitter than their rivals.
But though this caution is offered against too severe
training for short courses in short time, it must not
be construed into an advocacy of laxity. For three
weeks’ training let running take place the first week,
and no more; diet be liberal, and work not too
hard ; but let such rules as are laid down be rigidly
observed.

For the work in Henley training, as a system, no
rule should be laid down, for the men who go into
practice are, as a rule, more than half fit from pre-
vious races before they are booked for the regatta.
A coach must Judge for himself of the work required,
the state of the river, and the state of the weather.
Book work cannot guide him. But, whatever early
TRAINING—AMOUNT OF EXERCISE. 137

work may have been requisite, according to the state
of a crew, when first put into strict training, the last
twelve or fourteen days should be much the same in
all cases. By that time the men must begin to work
up to a racing stroke, and to accustom themselves to
distress. If they have got their fat off by running or
previous racing, they do not want to approach a quick
stroke earlier. Till then thirty-one a minute is
enough for any crew; but at this date the pace of
stroke should accelerate. The main acceleration from
day to day should, for choice, be in the latter part of
the race, to get the crew accustomed to finishing
strongly, and also to make sure that the pace is not
too hot for them to last it out. If the course is a
short one, it should be rowed twice a day, first at
thirty or thirty-one a minute, the second time at the
“pace of the day,” which should, from day to day, be
a crescendo for the whole or part of the course, till
full racing pace is realised about two or three days
before the race. If jealousy to do “good time”
tempts a crew to row too fast before this, they will
suffer for it in the end.

Over a long course—such as Putney to Mortlake—
the distance, wholly or approximately, may be rowed
about three to five times during the last fortnight, at
an increasing stroke, approaching to racing pace,
faster than the steady “swing ” at which the course
was traversed in early practice. On “bye” days the
work would be lighter. But it is a mistake to
“spurt” a crew too early over a long course, till they
have got fit by running. If this is done they fall to
pieces from want of condition, contract faults, and
get stale. It is needless to say that the body should
be well washed in cold or tepid water after a row.
The north country objection to ablutions as weaken-
ing, is unsound as well as uncleanly. It will save
138 OARS AND SCULLS.

thirst to use a tooth brush, with perhaps a little
myrrh, after a row. The last twenty-four hours at
least, if not forty-eight, for a short course, should be
of easy work, sufficient to give exercise and digestion,
without wearing the tissues. In a long course the
rest may be a trifle longer. In the case of a sculler
a week’s light work will do no harm, if he is really
fit beforehand. With an eight-oar so much rest can-
not well be taken, lest strength regained should be at
the expense of uniformity, for want of practice.
Temporary ailments are the bughears which most
beset a trainer. If he is training an individual, his
task is simple, he can award rest. But with a crew’
it is often an open question how far practice can be
sacrificed to the exigencies of an individual. An odd
man, capable of doing the work, without much hope
of promotion, but honestly working as a warming
pan, is invaluable to a crew. The only wonder is the
small modicum of thanks which such a stop-gap
usually obtains, and which is really the only reward
he can look for. Doctors hamper a trainer fearfully ;
few of them appreciate training. They look on it
with suspicion, and their sole idea is the conva-
lescence of the invalid ; and since naturally he will be
cured somewhat quicker by abstinence from rowing
than continuance, their first order is usually to leave
off work, even though the ailment may be no more
than a raw, a boil, or diarrhea. A doctor practically
experienced in the matter, who does not feel his pro-
fessional reputation at stake to effect the cure as
speedily as possible, regardless of the interest of the
crew, is invaluable. When such a man announces
that A. or B. really must not row, his interdict is not
looked upon as a cry of “wolf.” A trainer should im-
press upon his men regularly to report to him any
physical contretemps, however small, and not to judge

 
TRAINING—TEMPORARY AILMENTS. 139

themselves of its importance. Many a tyro, from
fear of losing his place, conceals mischief, till it is
irreparable, unless this doctrine is enforced. For
“raws” (which on sliding seats should seldom now
be heard of) the best remedy is an ointment of oxide
of zine, spermaceti, and glycerine. If the raw is
small, the ointment may be rubbed in. If large, it is
best to lay over it lint dressed with the ointment,
and to bind it down with strips of diachylum. Boils
frequently come when men have been too suddenly
reduced or have got out of order in hot weather. A
boil, taken “in the bud,” can be deadened by paint-
ing it with iodine. The blood can be simultaneously
purified by a tablespoonful or two of yeast, or,
better still, a teaspoonful of syrup of iodide of iron in
a wineglass of water, taken immediately after a meal ;
the dose to be repeated a second or even a third time
within each twelve or twenty-four hours till the for-
mation of boil stops. Extra port wine will also rectify
the system. Unless this purification of the blood
takes place, painting and killing one boil only causes
the bad blood to break out anew elsewhere. If a boil
has gone beyond a certain stage it cannot be driven
in by iodine. It is best then to draw it quickly with
linseed poultices, and then to have it lanced, and the
puncture plugged with lint to facilitate discharge for
another twelve hours. The difficulty is to find a doc-
tor to lance a boil before its “ time,” and to persuade
him that the welfare of a crew en masse is of more
importance than the discomfort of an individual, and,
therefore, to depart from medical red-tape, so far as
he can without really injuring the constitution.
Blisters should be pricked with a needle, the water
squeezed out, and the skin left on. Any symptom of
festered hands is simply bad blood finding its vent
in the weak point of a sore hand, instead of making
140 OARS AND SCULLS.

a boil for itself. Similarly, raws or cuts may show
symptoms of festers. In that case, cold water ban-
dages when not in work, with oil silk to retain
moisture, should be used, and the blood purified as
in the case of boils.

Too heavy work when out of condition sometimes
produces strain of the abdominal muscles. This
causes much pain at starting; when the body is
warm it works off, but returns twofold when the
muscles become stiff after rest. A day’s rest and
half an hour’s seat in a warm hip bath, the water
covering the abdomen, will usually cure this.

Diarrhea is a common occurrence. To stop it on
the spot for a race, or practice, give a man three or
four tablespoonfuls of raw arrowroot in a tumbler of
cold water. This seldom fails to check it pro tem.
Confection of opium, and brandy and water, vice
beer, will remedy the system from a mild attack. If

“ severe call in a doctor.

In all those other cases of minor ailments, a trainer
may advantageously play the “ quack,” (except in case
of using the lancet), unless he has a doctor who has
no prejudice against training.

 
Car)

CHAPTER XVIII

TRAINING FOR A SERIES OF ENGAGEMENTS —PAD-
DLING—CHANGE OF SIDES—STARTING—GENE-
RALSHIP — JUDGING PACE — STALENESS — A
SECOND RACE.

IN preceding chapters the general theory, with more
of the practice of training was sketched. It may be
worth while to remark that the distinction laid down
by one, if not more than one, authority upon training,
between London Rowing Club and University sys-
tems of training is one of practice rather than of
theory, and, if not explained to be so, is calculated to !
mislead, for readers may question which of the two
is correct. The fact is that the only important race
for which University men train from an untrained
state is the University Boat Race. For Henley Re-
gatta they are, more or less, half prepared before
they revert to strict training, therefore, no régime of
sweating, &c., is reverted to usually by them for the
latter. But with Londoners the case is different.
They commence the season by training for Henley,
and have, therefore, to go through a regular system
which, similarly, any Oxford or Cambridge crew
would have to go through if they had not had the
preliminary of college eights. The difference, there-
fore, between Liondon and University training—one
for Henley in June and the other for Putney in
March—is one of time of year and the requirements
of business rather than of any recognised difference of
142 OARS AND SCULLS.

opinion as to the requisites for getting crews into
condition when under parallel circumstances. A
London crew training for a post Henley event, for
which it is already nine-tenths prepared, follows
much the same sort of system that a University col-
lege or other crew does for Henley. A trainer’s art
tells as much if not more than in primd facie train-
ing, in the carrying on a crew, once fit, for a series
of engagements. It is impossible to keep men tho-
roughly wound up for any length of time. For the
work winds them up, and the diet keeps them up to
the work; but heavy work, if continued too long,
makes them stale. The thing is to know when to
relax, for how long, and when to resume heavy work.
Personal experience and supervision must dictate
this. Book-work cannot possibly meet the infinity
of varieties and contingencies that may arise. Fre-
quently it happens that, though men go on from race
to race, crews do not. Practice, therefore, with new
crews is indispensable, yet heavy work is undesirable,
considering the fine-drawn condition of the men. In
these cases good watermanship and instruction in
paddling will be invaluable. Men who can really
paddle, working with body and hands in the same
style as if they were rowing hard, but meanwhile
skimming the water with a light blade, can, while so
doing, get together without taxing their strength.
The heavy work can be put on at an instant’s notice,
and can be confined to practising starts by covering
the entire blade.

When a crew puts on a four as well as an eight in
a regatta, powers of paddling are of infinite value.
It stands to reason that if the men of the four can
really afford to row hard in both, the other members
of the eight cannot have had enough work. Or, if
all have done a good day’s work, the chances are
PADDLING—CHANGE OF SIDES—STARTING. 143

that the four, if well practised in, may overdo the
men. But light paddling, if mastered, will obviate
all this, and it is in their mastery of this art that
London Rowing Club men show to such advantage;
and it is partly this reason why they win the Stewards’
Cup more than twice as often as they do the Grand
Challenge.

It has been already said that a man ought to be
able to master both sides of a boat, and nothing
better keeps him out of faults than constant change
of sides. If there is no particular reason against it,
a coach will find his men row the better if they take
different sides in a four to what they do in an eight.
Stroke, perhaps, cannot be spared to shift, and a
behemoth five must stick to three in a four, but
otherwise the more change the less chance of one-
sided rowing. The change, also, is a relief to the
muscles of the oarsman, for however straight he
rows, the fact of his handle describing an arc must
preclude the strain on every muscle being identical
on both sides. Upon this principle, though a sculler
training for an important race should confine his
work in the main to a sculling boat, an occasional
row, especially in a pair, in which watermanship is
in play the whole time, will do him more good than
harm by recalling his muscles to their normal action,
and saving him from insensibly contracting any
fault in the action of his body. Change of boats
often opens a man’s eyes to some discomfort which
he has not hitherto thoroughly understood or realised
in a previous boat.

Towards the end of training starts always occupy
-a prominent place in practice. Good starting is a
test of watermanship, but not necessarily of strength
or stamina. But it is often carried too far. A crew
1s often not only taught how to get off well, but to row
144 OARS AND SCULLS.

extra hard for the first minute or two of a course, and
then to “settle down.” This is objectionable. A crew
should be taught to get off cleanly, without delay,
without splashing, and to get racing speed on as
soon as possible. But so far from letting them go
off with a burst, and then to settle down, they should,
when under way, progress steadily at first, not faster
than they mean to continue at, and with something
always in hand for a rush. However good the water-
manship of a crew may be, the “settling down”
(unless the race has been a runaway from the first,
and an easy lead is already gained), too often means
“ getting short” and nervous at the consciousness
that the adversary’s pace is beginning to show to
better relative advantage than during the first burst.
If a crew has anything of the thoroughbred about it,
there is no necessity to push for a lead to give con-
fidence. The little steadiness that is gained by an
exultant hope at a lead is dearly bought if the pace
has been hotly forced before the pulse and respira-
tion are worked up to concert pitch, or the muscles
are warm to their work. But though the start should
not be a burst, requiring a “settle down” at the end
of the first minute, that is no reason against a
minute’s relaxation about the sixth to the tenth
minute in a four-mile row. The period of distress is
greatest somewhere about the second or third minute,
before the lungs are well warmed, and again about
the tenth minute, if the race lasts as long. At the
latter period slackening is politic, till the system
“comes again,” as it ought if fit.

All sorts of systems of starting are in vogue, such
as a half stroke, a three-quarters, and a full; or two
slow full strokes, and then quicken up; or a three-
quarter stroke and then a full one. If each is carried
out to perfection the difference between any is not
GENERALSHIP—JUDGING PACE. 145

half-a-dozen feet. The main thing is uniformity.
If advantage lies with one more than the others, it is
with the first-named; but it is the most ticklish,
especially with a raw crew, for, by conceding the right
to row a couple of short strokes to begin with, there
is a chance that excitement may prevent the full
reach being obtained by all on the third stroke. If
it is not, pace is lost, and those who reach out fully
are overtaxed for the moment, and the whole lot may
soon become short.

A stroke’s coolness and generalship are invaluable,
and he must be able to make up his mind in a mo-
ment, and without vacillation. Many a stroke is
blamed for rowing too fast and too short in hard
finishes, especially if he loses. Doubtless long row-
ing could command more pace than short, but the
fault need not always lie with the stroke. As long
as his men can “row,” he must not attempt a pace of
stroke which they cannot row through; but if they,
or a man only of them, take to “niggling,” he must
judge for himself, and in such a case, as there is little
chance that they will get along again before the
finish, the more “niggles” he can cram into a minute
(when rowing is hopeless), the better. But this pal-
liation for many an unjustly-accused stroke must
not be accepted as any recommendation for short
rowing. Simply, when a race is in the balance, “if
the mountain won’t come to Mahomet, Mahomet must
go to the mountain.”

Both in practice and race, both coach and stroke
can judge whether the pace of stroke admits of in-
crease, by the amount of water “cleared,” where the
craft is an eight—i. e., the distance between the point
whence the blade of 2 or 1 came out of the water
and where that of 8 or 7 goes in must he watched.
So long as no wind is blowing this is the surest test

L
146 OARS AND SCULLS.

of the pace of a boat. The water cleared at a start,
though it shows the pace of a boat for the instant,
is no test of the staying powers of a crew. But when
the race is settled down, if a stroke wants to judge if
he can safely call upon his crew let him watch his
blade for a stroke or two. If from about the third
to the fifth minute, with a first-class crew, his oar
covers a foot and a half of water from 2’s mark he
can afford to quicken (if hard pressed). Later on, if
only a foot is covered, he may, if it is neck or nothing,
still quicken. If his crew has become short, and no
water at all is cleared, he must, of course, be guided
by circumstances. (On fixed seats the water cleared
at highest pressure will not be so much by about two-
fifths, for the recovery being accomplished in less
time the boat will have less time to shoot between
the strokes.) The calculation just given is that of
the extreme limit in each case, beyond which a stroke
should not go if possible. But if he can hold his
own, especially for a four-mile course, with a slower
stroke, and more water cleared than above stated, the
better for him.

Pace of stroke is necessarily slower on sliding seats
—thirty-nine to forty a minute, really rowed through,
is fast enough as an extreme for Henley, thirty-seven
and thirty-eight as an extreme for the Putney course,
however hard pressed. These rates severally repre-
sent exertion equal to some four strokes a minute
faster on fixed seats.

Some men become systematically stale in long
training. Some of the best men of their day (men
always good at Henley, whose style was good enough
for long courses) somehow have always gone more or
less weak towards the end of long training for a long
course. The remedy here suggested is theoretical—
for the writer confesses never to have practically
STALENESS—A SECOND RACE. 147

essayed it—but it is possible that pepsine may, in
such cases, restore the system. The men who suffer
like this are usually especially good men over short
courses at least, and have been equally good at first
in the earlier practice over the long courses. The
conclusion is that these men have more muscle than
digestive power. That they can take more out of
themselves in the rowing than the stomach can re-
place by the next day. Were they to be trained for
sculling they could perform well enough over the
long course if they were not put over it till the day
of the race (and if they only would not do more than
their own share of work in practice in a crew, they
might keep well anyhow, even over long-course prac-
tice). But this would not suit the requirements of
the best of a crew who were capable of full work. It
would be invidious to particularise well-known men
referred to as exemplifying these cases. The writer's
opinion is that had pepsine ever suggested itself to
him, or to others, in these cases, the digestive powers
of such men might have been made proportionate to
their muscular powers, and so staleness might have
been averted. It is curious that the men who thus
go stale are proverbial for amount of work they do
at other times, till they begin to get stale. This
strengthens the theory of the cause of their stale-
ness. The application of the remedy suggested must
be left to the judgment of future trainers. Anyhow,
it is simple and not deleterious.

Though Dutch courage is not to be desired, a small
dose, three-fourths of a wine-glass, of strong tea and
brandy in equal proportions may be given to tyros if
they are very nervous in going to the starting-post.
This steadies them, and prevents the exhausting
feeling of sinking in the stomach from nervousness.
148 OARS AND SCULLS.

When more than one race has to be rowed in the
day, cold mutton is the best comestible; quantity
depending upon the time available for digestion be-
fore the next race. Cold tea and brandy is the best
drink. Just before a second or third race a final sip
of tea and brandy, half and half, may be taken, but
it should be borne in mind that if the alcohol happens
to fly to the head it does more harm than good,
makes an oarsman wild, and does not thus add to his
stamina. When the course is not more than an
eight or nine minute affair, and the first race is not
very severe, a man often feels really better after his
second than his first race. But the critical point in
a second or third race with a tired man is that when
his heart is just working up to high pressure, before
his stiffened and tired muscles have got warm to
their work. The feeling of exhaustion at this minute
(about the end of the second or third race) is most
painful, but it must not be accepted by the oarsman
as any test of his real stamina left. He must trust
to his pluck, and in another minute he will be
astonished to find how comfortable he feels, when he
has again got warm to his work. Though weaker
slightly, he will then feel fitter in mind than ever.
It should always be a rule to start a trifle easier than
usual with a tired crew, and to trust to making up
for lost time when once they have got warm.
Though this chapter professes to deal with the
exigencies of training rather than of non-training, it
may not be out of place to caution oarsmen, when
their race is lost or won, that if they contemplate
training again some other time, they should be careful
how they go out of training. More constitutions are
injured by reckless and sudden change of tone of life
from asceticism to licence than by all the severities
TRAINING. 149

of training. To make the conclusion of training an
excuse for saturnalia not only injures health of body.
but stultifies the lessons of practice, of self-control,
and fixed habit, which are one of the chief moral
recommendations of modern athletics.

NoOTES.—Sea air with brief daily bathe or a moderate amount
of gentle walking exercise, say two strolls of three miles each
in the day, will often be found of infinite use in restoring tone
to a man who suffers from staleness, or who has been drawn
prematurely fine. The length of the holiday, whether a day
or a week, must depend upon circumstances and be guided by
discretion.

Turkish baths are useless to a sound healthy man, who has
plenty of time for preparation. To a man unnaturally obese,
or compelled to row at short notice, they may be of some use;
but they do not remove internal fat, which is even more
hampering than external ditto. A man who is obliged to have
recourse to them cannot expect to be of much good against a
well-trained antagonist of similar class.
150 OARS AND SCULLS.

CHAPTER XIX.

FOURS WITHOUT COXSWAINS—PAIR OARS—
STEERING APPARATUS.

A FOUR-0AR without a coxswain (for which craft it
would be a godsend if some inventive genius would
design a compendious yet expressive name) is, when
properly manned and found, more conducive to good
rowing than any other class of light boat. For this
reason the resolve of Henley authorities to abolish
coxswains for all four-oared races at that regatta isa
step in the right direction, as much so as a recent de-
cision of Oxford to revert in future to the old system
was injudicious.* So long as coxswains were carried,
a four-oar was the hardest craft to “sit” well of any.
Though some inaccuracy in the rowing will be (sup-
posing the coxswain sits still) the first cause of a
roll in a boat, yet, once set in motion, that rolling is
enhanced to a great extent by the helplessness of the
coxswain. The oarsman can right himself and re-
gain his balance from his oar, which serves him much
as a balancing pole does a rope-dancer. But the cox-
swain has no such support; he falls helplessly from
side to side with each lurch, and without being to
blame for the original mischief, makes bad to worse
by his helplessness. But with the absence of a cox-
swain this feature disappears. Unevenness may still
exist in the rowing, but the roll thus commenced has

* Since these pages were written the O. U. B. C. have seen
their error, and have re-established the new principle.
FOURS WITHOUT COXSWAINS. 151

no longer the same cause to exaggerate it, and to
continue it after the primary mischief has come to
an end. The four that carries no coxswain rights
itself instantaneously after a lurch, and in less than
half the time that a man takes to recover from a
stroke, or to row one through, such a boat may roll
and right itself again. The oarsmen who can “sit”
the boat against a roll have also an easier task, for
they have only themselves and the boat to balance,
and have not an extra loose and helpless body that
requires balancing of itself. Under these circum-
stances the form of the men rowing should be supe-
rior, especially in a raw crew, than when hampered
with a coxswain. Besides this gain in steadiness,
there should also be a gain in length of reach; or at
least that tendency to get short, which is often pain-
fully evident in a second-class tired four, carrying a
heavy coxswain of eight stone and upwards, should
be obviated with the removal of the coxswain. Thus
all-round rowing should improve in a coxswainless
four.

On a narrow and crowded river a pilot on the bank
is almost absolutely necessary to clear the course in
advance, and to give notice of obstructions; for if
the steering oarsman is perpetually looking round
his work is cramped and wasted. If he is a good
steersman he needs but seldom to look round, so far
as the course itself is concerned, apart from obstruc-
tions.

In steering a coxswainless four, the main difficulty
consists not so much in the knowing how to steer,
but in the choice of a suitable apparatus. Con-
sidering that scullers and pairs of the old fashion,
with no steering appendage, used often to steer a
course as good as that of eights or fours who had the
advantage of a coxswain vis-a-vis to his destination,
152 OARS AND SCULLS.

there should be no reason why a four should not,
with the aid of a rudder, be steered as truly as pairs
or sculling boats. That at the Universities such has
not been the case as a rule must be ascribed to the
apparatus used.

Three apparatuses have been tried. One used by
the London Rowing Club in June, 1872, consisted of
bars projecting from the stretcher, at right angles to
it, on either side of one of the steerer’s feet. By
pressing laterally against either of these he worked
his rudder. Another, brought out by J. H. Clasper,
consisted of the same principle, but instead of the
foot lying loosely between the two bars, it was fitted
into a shoe, which was attached to the stretcher, and
which, when moving laterally either way, worked the
rudder. In the writer's opinion neither of these
systems is perfect, though in the hands (quere feet?)
of first-class watermen, such as Mr. Gulston, who
steered London in their Atalanta match, they might
perform all required, even under difficulties. When
essayed by inferior watermen, but still by men who
were capable of steering a decent course in a pair or
sculling boat, they failed to produce as good pilotage
as would be expected of a pair or a sculler bereft
of a rudder. This seems in itself suggestive of im-
perfection, and the imperfection appears to be as
follows :—

1. When the foot has once moved laterally to press
either bar, the oarsman has, when he has righted his
course, to look down at his foot, to see that it is
in statu quo ante, so that the rudder shall be no
longer “on.” This gives him three things to look
at: (a), His course ahead; (b), his steerage point
astern, upon which, when his boat’s head is once
straight, he lays his stern, and steers by; (c), his foot
to see it in its due place when not in use.
FOURS WITHOUT COXWAINS. 153

2, If the rudder is hard on, the lateral strain upon
the foot to work the rudder must entail considerable
exertion, and detract somewhat from the perpen-
dicular pressure of the foot upon the stretcher

“necessary to enable the oarsman to row his stroke
properly.

3. The lateral motion of the foot, when required
to press the inside bar, must cramp the leg, and
hamper the action of the body.

Having pointed out these objections to the appa-
ratus at present most commonly in use, the writer,
egotistically or otherwise, is of opinion that an appa-
ratus which he used himself, and devised for his own
use, in the first coxswainless four that ever rowed in
England, at Henley in 1868, obviates all three diffi-
culties, without at the same time presenting any
fresh obstacles unknown with the previously-named
systems. His apparatus consists, with slight modifi-
cation of the first model, of two separate bars laid
parallel to the top of the stretcher, end to end, upon
the face of it, at a height to bring them level with
the ball of the foot, one bar for each foot to work.
These bars are hinged, each at one end (the end
nearest to the other bar), to the stretcher. Between
each end thus hinged is a space of about six inches,
leaving the stretcher in its normal state. Under
these bars, where they touch the stretcher, the wood
is cut away, so that they can lie flush with the
stretcher. Then under each bar is placed a strong
spring, so that the further end of each bar, thus
elevated by the spring, stands out from the stretcher
some four inches, the inside end remaining, of course,
always flush with the stretcher at its pivot, being
held by its hinge. To the further end of each bar is
attached the rudder line (which should be wire).
When either bar is pressed the spring yields, and
154 OARS AND SCULLS.

the bar sinks more or less flush with the stretcher.
So far a pressure upon the bar pulls in the wrong
direction for a rudder line, viz., from the bows, but °
the power is simply converted. Upon the gunwale
is set a small iron lever four or five inches long,”
moving on a pivot, the whole thing the size of a
common door-key., The wire from the stretcher is
attached to one end of this lever, and that from the
rudder to the other. The pivot need not be central
in the lever, so that a motion of the bar on the
stretcher may produce a greater variation in the
length of line moved between the bar and rudder, or
a less, as occasion may require. Practically, it is
best to let the five-inch lever be divided by the pivot
into three and two-inch arms, and to let the rudder
line be attached to the longer. But if it is found
that a touch of the bar produces too great an effect
on the rudder, the ends can be transposed, or the
pivot be made central. The apparatus is worked by
moving the upper part of either foot laterally two or
three inches, or even less, along the stretcher, so that
it lies over some of the projecting part of the bar
belonging to it. The foot thus moved then does its
ordinary stretcher work against the stretcher, and
by forcing the bar under it flush with the stretcher
works the rudder. The instant the foot is taken off
the bar and moved back to its normal position, the
spring under the bar brings it, and the rudder with
it, wn statu quo.

The gain of this apparatus is, therefore—

1. That there is no lateral strain upon the foot
when steering ; the natural action of the foot when
rowing draws the rudder line.

2. There is no danger of the rudder being left on
when not required, for the springs always restore it
to statu quo. The steersman has thus only two
PAIR OARS. 155

objects, course ahead and stern post, to pay atten-
tion to.

3. Each foot being employed, one for each rudder
line, no inside lateral motion of either foot is re-
quired. Each foot, when required to work a line,
shifts to the outside only, and then presses perpen-
dicularly in the natural way.

The cost of a stretcher thus fitted by an ordinary
blacksmith would be about seven shillings, and the
bars will last ad lib. The springs may get weak
at the end of a year or two, but those used by the
writer were as stiff as ever two years after they were
first used.

In laying the rudder lines, care should be taken
not to pull the wire too tight. If it is tight it presses
the rudder so hard against its pin that it revolves
stiffly, and may stick in the position when not wanted.
A comparatively slack wire will draw any rudder,
even to come round a “ gut” or “grassy” corner.

Anybody may steer in a four except stroke. The
best waterman, if not short-sighted, ought to have
the task; but as it is almost as easy from three or
two as from bow seat, it is not worth while shift-
ing a man forward in the boat out of his best place
simply because he has to steer.

Good pair-oar rowing is the me plus ultra of water-
manship, and, on the other hand, if there is a weak
point in a man’s watermanship, it will be sure to
crop out when he essays a pair. He will be afraid to
lay out, and will have no power of sitting the boat
against the inequalities of his own rowing, which
initiate rolling. Good watermanship keeps any boat
on her keel, and so enables those who row in her to
get together with far less difficulty than they would
if they had no such gift. But it must not be as-
sumed that because a boat does mot roll, therefore
156 OARS AND SCULLS.

the rowing in her is ensemble, and requires no further
polish. On the contrary, though a good waterman
should be able, as a rule, to hit off the time and
swing of the stroke sooner than a bad one, one of
the main tests of watermanship is the power of
“sitting ” a boat against those tendencies to roll
which would not arise if the rowing were done
together. Thus, though good watermen will row
nearly, or quite, as steadily at scratch as with prac-
tice, yet they will not go as fast, for (1) some of
their strength, which might otherwise be expended
in propelling the boat, is employed in sitting it;
(2) work not done together to some extent neutralises
itself, for the boat having its greatest strain at dif-
ferent moments on different rowlocks, travels in small
zigzags during each stroke, and so loses ground.
This fact is urged, lest good watermen, who can row
steadily together, should therefore think that, with
that acquisition, they have no more pace (apart from
condition) to acquire by practice. If they were bad
watermen, the test of their being together would be
the absence of rolling, but with good watermen the
proposition is not convertible.

In commencing pair-oar practice, the great thing
is not to row “jealous” of each other. The lighter
the paddling the better—no attempt of the one to
row the other round. The study should be to get the
action homogeneous—the return of the arms and
drop of wrists simultaneous—ear guiding as much
as eye. The apparatus above recommended for four-
oar steering will in a pair still more surpass the
other apparatuses alluded to, for the strength and
evenness of action economised thereby must tell its
tale still more when numbers are reduced. A well-
fitted, thin metal rudder would not cause so much
proportionate drag to a pair as to a sculler, and so
STEERING APPARATUS. 157

would be almost always a gain. Only with a most
even pair, on a dead, straight course, and with not a
breath of wind, would the absence of rudder be a
gain, and then but a small one. At the same time it
cannot be denied that the application of rudders to
pairs and scullers, though like Columbus’s egg, simple
enough, once mooted, will go far to destroy that per-
fection of watermanship which formerly was found in
first-class pair-oar rowing. To get to know each
other’s strength, and so to perfect the steering under
high pressure, was an essential under the old system,
and so practice had an incentive, and with it came
more of perfection; but the rudder dispenses to a
great extent with necessity of practice for the sake
of steering only. If a man can steer with a rudder
one partner well, he needs no practice, in steering at
least, for a new partner.

In case regatta committees should even forbid
rudders for pairs, which is improbable (and anyhow
for the sake of recording an old art), let it be remem-
bered that (apart from optical capacity) the strongest
man of two equally good watermen should steer. It
matters not whether he rows stroke or bow. The old
idea that bow ex officio should steer is a farce. If
anything, stroke has more advantage for accuracy,
for he can see the whole line of the canvas, so as to lay
it on the steerage point. The weaker man being then
the bow, the steerer has simply to row his hardest,
and the stronger in the straight reaches adjusts the
line of the boat from stroke to stroke, or even half-
stroke to half-stroke, with his eyes ever on the stern-
post. When there comes a corner too heavy for the
stronger to row round without a slacken from his
fellow, he must give his orders, and the one under
order should remember that a single stroke rowed
with strength contrary to that desired by the steering
158 OARS AND SCULLS.

man may lose lengths by throwing him out of all
calculation, especially in rounding a curve. There is
nothing like partners who thoroughly understand
each other, never row excitedly, but always are on
the alert each to perform his own share and to trust
his partner to do his. So much for an art which,
though at all times a good school for watermanship
for men who have once advanced to a certain degree
of merit, will never again be the school it was, for
half the difficulty and test of self and mutual reliance
are done away with by a modern invention.
{ 139 )

CHAPTER XX.

DIMENSIONS OF WORK.

IN giving these dimensions, as those which I think
best suited for combining the greatest advantages,
mechanical and physical, for racing-boats, I am
aware that I am, in one most important point at
least, running counter to the more generally received
practice of the day. This point is, the distance at
which men should be placed from their work, on
sliding seats. In all these dimensions the distances
given must be taken more as average than as normal
distances. Minor variations will continually be
required to suit different men in different boats.
Subject to such comments as may be offered sub-

sequently, the following dimensions are now sug-
gested :—

SCHEDULE A.—Fixed Seats for Eight or Four,
Oars.—

ft. in.

Length in board . 3 6
» outboard . 9G
Total . : . 12.6

Width of blade at top 54 inches.

Rowlock.—Height above seat, 8 inches.
Distance of thowl from front edge of seat, 13
inches.

N.B. The distance is not measured as direct linear
160 OARS AND SCULLS.

measures—slanting from one to the other—but from
the perpendicular plane of the thowl to the perpen-
dicular plane of the edge of the seat.

Stretcher.—Length from top of stretcher to front
edge of seat, 2 ft. 4 in,, for a six-foot man of ordinary
make and shape.

For each inch less or more stature add or subtract
seven-eighteenths of an inch from the stretcher
(rather more than one-third).

As an average measurement, it may be taken that
the length of a man’s stretcher, from top of stretcher
to seat, on a fixed seat, should be about seven-
eighteenths of his entire height.

Slope of Stretcher should be about 53 inches, i.e.,
the heels should be 53 inches nearer to the perpen-
dicular plane of the front of the seat than the top of
the stretcher is to the same.

ScHEDULE B.—For Sliding Seats.

Oar.—Length in board, 3 ft. 73 in. to 3 ft. 8 in.,
according to length of slide.

Length out board, 9 ft. 1} in.

Width of blade at top 6 in.

Rowlock.—Height above plane of seat 73 to 7% in.

Distance from slide when full forward 9 to 93 in.

Stretcher.—Length from front of slide full for-
ward, to top of stretcher, 24 in. for a six-foot man.

Slope of Stretcher, 6 in.

The length of a sliding seat stretcher should be
one-third of the entire height of the man.

For a pair oar, the height of rowlock and length
of stretcher should be the same. The length of oar
should be less.

(Assuming that the beam of the boat, and length
of iron of outriggers, are proportionately less than in
DIMENSIONS OF WORK. 161

an eight) the length of oar should be, in board 3 ft.
5% in., outboard 8 ft. 10 in., width of blade, 55 in.

The oar must, however, be to a great extent accom-
modated to the build of the pair.

For a sculling boat: width between outriggers,
5 ft.

Length of scull in board, 2 ft. 9 in.; outboard,
7 ft. 5 in.

Width of blade 5 in. for an 11-stone sculler.

The other dimensions for sliding-seats, and height
of rowlock, length of stretcher, and distance from
work, should be the same as for a sculling-boat. A
sculler of long reach may, however, with advantage
place himself half an inch to an inch farther from
his work than he could sit for rowing.

M
162 OARS AND SCULLS.

CHAPTER XXI.
QUONDAM PERFORMANCES.

A FEW memoranda as to performances of various

sorts of boats over various courses, giving the times

in which certain known distances have been covered,
may not be out of place as some guide to future oars-
men as to what their chances may be when training
over the same courses.

Over the Henley course, the fastest eight-oar time
is still that of a fixed seat eight, viz. :—

1870.—7'17", by the Etonian eight in the final heat for
the Grand Challenge, London racing them
hard till after the Poplar point. (No wind.)

Next to this comes the time of the present year, on
sliding seats :— :

1875.—7' 18", by the Leander eight, in the final heat
for the same prize. The winners, however,
had the race in hand half a mile from home,
and won almost in a paddle by two clear
lengths; had they been hard pressed (as
they were the day before, when there was
some head wind), no doubt they would have
beaten the Btonian time. Till this year no
sliding-seat eight at Henley has had smooth
water in a race, and this is the first occasion
on which the times of the old and new style
have been fairly tested. The difference in
pace between fixed seats and slides is, how-
ever, much greater than these records would
QUONDAM PERFORMANCES. 163

seem to imply—15" is probably the smallest
gain which slides would add, and I expect to
see 7' 10" beaten before long, under favour-
able conditions.

Other good times on fixed seats are :—

1865.—7' 21”. Kingston Rowing Club, in the final
heat for the Grand Challenge, won easily by
four lengths, with very slight cross breeze.

1863.—7’ 25". University College, for the Ladies’
Plate, won by half a length. (N.B. In that
year the boats started thirty yards short, on
account of the weeds.)

Usually practice times can be recorded of boats
faster than any racing times. With eights and fours
at Henley, however, it is different: the racing times
are the best on record, probably because it is only on
regatta days that the weir at Hambledon is closed
and the stream weakened.

Four oars, without coxswains, have never rowed a
severe race at Henley for the Stewards’ Cup. There
has, therefore, been no incentive to fast times. That
of this year: —

1875.—7' 54”, done by London, winning easily from
Leander, is the best; but is no criterion of
what a good four of this sort, on slides,
should be capable of. There should not be
more than 20” or 25” between eight and cox-
swainless four at Henley, with no wind; so
that 7’ 35” ought to be attainable.

Times of four-oars with coxswains, at Henley, are
now of value only as records :—

1870.—8' 5", by Oxford Etonians, in the final heat for
the Stewards’ Cup; a hard race. (No wind.)

1865.—8' 8”. Third Trinity, in the final heat for the
same prize; also a close race. (No wind.)

Pair-oars have not rowed hard races at Henley on

M 2
164 OARS AND SCULLS.

smooth water since slides came in, and very seldom

even before the invention. The times of all races re-

corded in Kinch’s ¢ Calendar’ are most of them taken

at random by the secretary of the regatta through a

telescope. The seconds are usually approximately

right ; the minutes are set down at random, accord-
ing to fancy. The best time is the only close race in
smooth water :—

1362.—8' 40". Woodgate and Champneys; won by
half a length against Hawkshaw and Cham-
bers, each crew having been twice previously
to the post for other races.

The mere fact of such a race being the fastest on
record shows how little the times of other pairs are
tests of their capabilities. All other good pairs have
won their races by a distance, without extension, so
that their times are valueless. A good pair is not
10” behind the very best four (carrying a coxswain)
over the Henley course, on smooth water. Pairs
seldom practice at racing paces over the whole course,
in consequence of other engagements; but when trials
have been rowed by eventual winners, 8 25” has often
been beaten, and once 8 20” was surpassed, on fixed
seats. If a pair of the class of Gulston and Long,
fit, fresh, and well, were to be extended over the
whole course, on sliding seats, they would now do
less than 8' 15".

Sculling times are the most variable of any at
Henley, because a sculling-boat is more susceptible
of the wind from its smaller size and weight. The
least foul breeze detracts from its impetus. Where a
head wind will add 20” to the time of an eight, it will
add 30” to that of a four, 40” to that of a pair, and
60” to that of a sculler, over the same distance of
water. Under these circumstances, but few chances
occur during regatta days for scullers to do good
QUONDAM PERFORMANCES. 165

times, and even the best recorded fall far short of

what the best scullers are capable of. The best races

on record are, on fixed seats :—

1865.—9’ 38”, by E. B. Michell. (Slight wind off Berks
shore.)

1869.—8' 57”, by W. C. Crofts, beating A. de Laude
Long by four feet only. (Slight wind slant-
ing up-stream from N.E.)

The first half of the course on this occasion was
rowed in 4’ 20”. Kinch’s record gives the total time
9 57”; but, as in too many other cases, the minutes
are wrong. On sliding seats no good time has yet
been done, chiefly because no really first-rate scul-
ler has rowed at Henley since the introduction of
sliding seats. The best sliding-seat time at present
is :—

1875.—9' 6”, by A. C. Dicker, winning without much
difficulty, but apparently working hard to
the end. When a good sculler shall come
on the scene, 8 40” will be beaten without
much difficulty. 8 50” has frequently been
beaten in trials on fixed seats; sliding seats
should increase the speed by about 15”, if
not by more.

It has been said that the stream is usually less at
a regatta than on practice nights; therefore, as a
general rule, the following times, if accomplished on
smooth water in practice, may be considered to put a
competitor well in the first flight: eights, 7’ 25”;
fours, coxswainless, 7 50”; pairs, 8 20”; sculls, 8 50”.
(The so-called “half-way post” at Henley is some 4"
or 5” nearer to the starting than the winning post.)
Half-way times mus(. be estimated accordingly.

From Putney to Mortlake but few good eight-oar
times are recorded in the annals of university boat-
races, for more reasons than one. Firstly, because the

M3
166 OARS AND SCULLS.

fixture of the race eight days before Easter absolutely
prohibits the race from being rowed at any time upon
an actual spring tide, and only when the full moon
falls upon Monday in Passion Week is there any-
thing at all of a tide. On other occasions the tide is
a crawling neap. Secondly, till the Thames Conser-
vancy Act came into force in 1868, the steamers used
to impede the start to such an extent that many races
did not leave Putney till the tide was slack, or had
actually turned.

The times, therefore, of Oxford and Cambridge
races are no criterion of what a good eight can really
do during a spring tide and smooth water.

The best time on record is that of the first year of
sliding seats :—

1873.—19' 35”, by Cambridge, on a good tide. (Slight
breeze abeam and a-head.)

Next best is the last race which Oxford won before
Goldie turned the tide of victory :—on fixed seats.
1869.—20' 4”, by Oxford, also on a good tide. (Slight

head wind.)

One of the best times all round is that of
1863.—23' 5” by Oxford, from Barker’s rails to Put-

ney. From the “rails” to the Ship is about
3' 10”. The tide on which this race was
rowed was a half ebb, several steamers being
aground when the race started, and none
being able to keep within half a mile of the
crews at the finish.

In 1857 Oxford did 19’ 50” in a trial on a good
spring tide. As a rule, the crews have hardly attained
their fastest stroke when the spring tides are on, the
springs falling, by the fixture of Easter, in most
cases some ten days before the race. However, a
good eight, choosing its day, should now be competent
to do 19 15”, and possibly 19’. From Putney to Ham-
QUONDAM PERFORMANCES. 167

mersmith, 7 45” has more than once been done on
fixed seats, and 7’ 85” or less should now be possible
on slides.

Sculling times over the same course do not record
the best that can be done. The best recorded are :—
1860.—23'15", by R. Chambers, winning easily against

T. White.
1868.—Ditto, by Renforth against Kelley.

T. White is said to have done 23’ 13” against
Clasper; but in that race they started by mutual con-
sent, and drifted some sixty yards from the Aqueduct
before they began to race.

These times can be beaten in trials by men not so
good as Renforth or Chambers, though good scullers
in their own generation. T. Hoare did 19’ 20” from
Putney to Barnes Bridge in a trial. J. Sadler once
did much the same. Either of these scullers would,
then, if they had gone to the end, have easily beaten
23". Both of these were on fixed seats.

From Putney to Hammersmith we know of no
faster trial than 9’ 7” by T. Hoare; again, Sadler
when he rowed him in 1866 led him many lengths
to the bridge; and Sadler in his turn was not then so
good as Kelley or Chambers. At this rate 9' could
have been beaten by the best watermen on fixed seats,
choosing their tide; and on sliding seats 8 50” should
be beaten, and even less. After all, times on a vari-
able tide-way are very precarious.

The times of the Wingfield sculls are not worth re-
cording, for by the rules of the race the race is rowed
on a neap tide, which makes the time some two to
four minutes longer than it would be on a spring.

Times of fours without a coxswain have few prece-
dents over the Putney course. London did 21’ 25”
in 1872 on an ebb tide, winning in a paddle against
Atalanta; a similar crew, could at a pinch do 20 40",
168 OARS AND SCULLS.

or less. From Putney to Hammersmith a good cox-
swainless four, on a good tide, should be able to do
well under 8, and a first-class pair should always be
capable of beating 8 40” under similar conditions;
even faster times may be done by real cracks.

The value of these references to past performances
is only as a rough guide to modern oarsmen as to
how far they are up to par. With constant improve-
ments in boats and gear, and with the science of
training improved upon by annual experience, times
of rowing, as those of running, should be capable of
still further reductions.

July 1st, 1875.
INDEX.

Aperients

Arms, use of. Ate see © ioopy”

Abdomen, strain of
Apollinaris

Back, use of .
Bad “work”
Bathing

sea .
Beef-tea
Bent arms -
Biceps .
Blisters .
Boils
Bucketing

Catch at beginning
Cause and effect
Champagne
Change of air.

- coach

Chest, where to finish on

Clipping 3
Coach, maxims for .
Coxswainless four .
Cushions

Deep rowing .
Diarrhoea .
Diet. See“ Trin o>

 

PAGE
135
17, 78
140
131

6, 64, 65, 112
6, 64, 65

128

149

129

78, et seq.

: 18, 56
> .. 139
. .. 139
32, 57, 62, 68

33, 82, et seq.
4, 53, 62

130

149

7

oh 0d

wn 33

4, et seq.

. 150, et seq.
16

56, 58, 64
140
ay

170 INDEX.

PAGE

Dimensions of work, &e. . . . ? . 159, et seq.
Doctors : 5 . 138
Drink. See also * Champrgne,” & Becf-tea,” ? « Gruel,” &c. 126
Eggs . : ; : : : : . od
Fallacies, sliding seats . : : ; 3 97, 106
Faults, origin of, to be traced . «4,58 562

, analysis of. Gums VII. VIIL, IX, x.

Feather defined . : . 19, et seq.
5» under water . . . ..- +2),606, et seq.
Festers . . . : : > ¢ 140
Finish of stroke : : : . 19, 23, 54, 56, et seq.
Fish ; : ; . . 2 > 198
Form : : 4 . : . . . 36, et seq.
Fowl . . : : : : . : 2125
Fruit . . . : : : . . > 129
Generalship . : . : . : : > 145
Grasp of oar . : : . . . . 12,58, 59
»n senlls ; . . : . . - =80
Gruel . . . . 3 : : : . 1126

Hand. See “Grasp” and “ Sculls.”

Hang . ; ; : : : : + -81,:84,083
7) And see * Clipping.”

Hours of Work. See “Training.”

Hurrying. See « Bucketing.”

Introductory remarks . : . . 2 1
Junior crew, choosing : : : : Lo 44
Knees . : : . : . : . 74. 96

Length of stroke. See “Swing.”

oar. See “ Dimensions.”

Maxims for coaches : : - - . 4 elsen,
INDEX.

Meeting oar . } .
Meat. See “Training,” ‘Diet. 22

Oar, how to hold. See “ Grasp.”
x examine. See “ Work.”
Overreach

Pace of stroke 3 : 3

5» boats. See Chap. XXI.
Paddling : ; .
Pair-oars, rowing

Pepsine
Pilots

Race, second .
Rattle of oars

Raws ’

Recovery, oneal ;
5 sculling .
0 on slides

Rowing one’s weight
i long distances
5»  roond :
5 deep; Sen ¢ Deep.”

Sea air .
Training
Trim

Turkish oil
Tyro, how to coach

Use of “legs,” “straps.” See ditto.
“Wash”

Washing

Watermanship

Work, test of .
» bad

» dimensions for. See Chap. XX.

171

PAGE

61

60, et seq.
137

142

. 156, et seq.

147
122

148
54
139

- 21, 6s, 101

111, 117
102
51
54
50

149

. 124, et seq.

45
149
9, et seq.

121
137

24, 111
49, 50
6, 64, 65
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