The novice, having passed successfully through his period of apprenticeship, is by this time ready, let us suppose, to be included in an eight-oared, sliding-seat crew, either for his college or for the rowing club to which he may happen to belong. He will marvel at first at the fragile and delicate fabric of the craft in which he is asked to take his place. One-eighth of an inch of cedar divides him from the waters that are to be the scene of his prowess. In stepping into the boat he must exercise the greatest care. The waterman and the coxswain are firmly holding the riggers, while the oarsman, placing a hand on each gunwale to support himself, steps cautiously with one foot on to the kelson, or backbone of the ship. Then he seats himself upon his slide, fits his feet into the stretcher-straps, and inserts his oar in the rowlock, finally getting the button into its proper place by raising the handle, and so working at it until the button comes in under the string that passes from thole to thole, and keeps the oar from flying out of the rowlock. His seven companions having performed the same feats, the boat is now shoved out from the bank, and the work of the day begins.

The oarsman who thus takes his first voyage in a racing-ship, built, as all racing-ships are, without a keel, must remember that her stability, when she contains her crew, is obtained merely by the balance of the oars. Remove the oars, and the boat would immediately roll over to one side or the other, and immerse her crew in the water. With eight bodies and oars in a constant state of movement, the problem of keeping the boat upon an even keel is not an easy one. It can only be solved satisfactorily in one way: There must be absolute harmony in every movement. The hands must come in and out at the same moment and at the same level, and the oar-blades must necessarily be maintained, on the feather and throughout the swing, at the uniform level prescribed for them by the harmonious movement of eight pairs of hands. The bodies must begin, continue, and end the swing together; the blades must strike the water at precisely the same moment; all the bodies must swing back as if released from one spring; the slides must move together; the arms bend as by one simultaneous impulse; and the eight oar-blades, having swept through the water in a uniform plane, must leave it as though they were part of a single machine, and not moved by eight independent wills. When this unison of movements has been attained by long and persevering practice, marred by frequent periods of disappointment, by knuckles barked as the boat rolls and the hands scrape along the gunwale, and by douches of cold water as the oars splash, then, and not till then, may it be said that a crew has got together.

The above details concern the harmony and unison of the crew. It is obvious, however, that the eight men who compose it may be harmonized into almost any kind of style, and it is important, therefore, to settle what is the best style—the style, that is, which will secure the greatest possible pace at the smallest cost of effort. In the first place, then, you must remember and endeavour to apply all the instructions I have laid down in the two previous chapters. These were framed upon the supposition that you were trying to qualify yourself to row eventually in a light racing-ship. Summing these up generally, and without insisting again upon details, I may say that you are required to have a long, steady, and far-reaching body-swing; you must grip the beginning of the stroke well behind the rigger at the full reach forward without the loss of a fraction of a second, with a vigorous spring back of the whole body, so as to apply the body-weight immediately to the blade of the oar. As your body swings back, your feet are to press against the stretcher and drive the slide back, in order that, by the combination of body-swing and leg-drive, you may retain the power which you have applied at the beginning evenly throughout the whole of the stroke. It is essential that the body should not fall away at the finish, but maintain an easy, graceful position, so that, with a final pressure of the legs, the swing of the elbows past the sides, and a rowing back of the shoulders which opens the chest, the hands may be swept fair and square home, the oar-blade being meanwhile covered, but not more than covered, from the moment it enters the water until it is taken clean out. The hands must then leave the chest as a billiard-ball rebounds from the cushion, in order that you may have a smart and elastic recovery. This swift motion of the hands straightens the arms, and releases the body for its forward swing. The body-swing forward, as I cannot too often repeat, must be slow, especially during its latter part; in fact, during that swing, a perfect balance must be maintained, the feet being well planted against the stretcher. When a man rows in this style with seven other men, in absolute time and harmony with them, he will find a rhythmical pleasure and a delightful ease in movements which at the outset were cramped and difficult. Then, as he swings his body, grips the water and drives his swirling oar-blade through, he will feel that every ounce of strength he puts forth has its direct and appreciable influence upon the pace of the boat. Not for him then will it be to envy the bird in its flight, as, with all his muscles braced, his lungs clear, and his heart beating soundly, he helps to make his craft move like a thing of life over the water.

That is the ideal. Let us come down to the actual. I will imagine myself to be coaching an average crew in a racing-ship.

I must first of all assure myself that the boat is properly rigged, and that the men have a fair chance of rowing with comfort. The thole-pins should stand absolutely straight from the sill of the rowlock. If the rowing-pin is bent outwards towards the water in the slightest degree, the oar will have a tendency to "slice," and a feather under water will be the result. The actual wood of the rowing-pin, however, should be slightly filed away at the bottom, so as to incline a very, very little towards the stern of the boat. Care must be taken also to have a sufficient width between the thole-pins to prevent the oar from locking on the full reach. The rowlock-strings must be taut. They must have a sufficient pressure on the oar to prevent the button being forced out of the rowlock. For these and other details, the table of measurements given at the end of this chapter should be consulted.

In this crew I will suppose that five of the members have already had experience in lightship rowing. The three others—bow, No. 3, and No. 4—are quite new to the game. I point out to these three, to begin with, the importance of balancing the boat by having their arms rigidly straight as they swing forward, so as to be able, by the slightest amount of give and take from the shoulders, to counteract any tendency to roll, by sitting firmly on their seats, and not shifting about to right or to left, and by keeping their feet well on the stretchers. That done, the words of command will come from the cox. "Get ready all!" (At this command, the oarsmen divest themselves of all unnecessary clothing.) "Forward all!" (The oarsmen swing and slide forward to within about two-thirds of the full-reach position, the backs of the blades lying flat upon the water.) "Are you ready?" (This is merely a call to attention.) "Paddle!" (At this the blades are turned over square, and immediately grip the water, and the boat starts.) During the progress of this imaginary crew, I propose to invest them individually and collectively with certain faults, and to offer suggestions for their improvement, just as if I were coaching them from the bank or from a steam-launch.

(1) "Stroke, you're tumbling forward over your stretcher. Keep the last part of your swing very slow by balancing against the stretcher with your feet as you swing forward. That's better. You got a beginning twice as hard that time."

(2) "Seven, you're feathering under water. Keep pressure on to the very finish of the stroke, and drop your hands a little more, so as to get the oar out square and clean. Use the legs well at the finish."

(3) "Six, you're very slow with your hands. Consequently, your body rushes forward to make up for lost time. Shoot the hands away quickly, with a sharp turn of the inside wrist. Then let the body follow slowly."

(4) "Five, you slide too soon and fall away from your oar at the finish. Get your shoulders and the whole of your body-weight well on to the beginning, so as to start swinging back before you drive your slide away. At the finish keep your shoulders down and sit up well upon your bones."

(5) "Four and three, your blades are coming out of the water long before any of the others. This is because you are afraid of reaching properly forward. You therefore get your oars in scarcely if at all behind the rigger, and consequently there is not enough resistance to your oar in the water to enable you to hold out the stroke fully to the finish. Swing, and reach well forward, and let your oars strike the beginning at the point to which your reach has brought it. You may splash at first, but with a little confidence you will soon get over that. Three, you're late. As you come forward you press heavily on the handle of your oar, the blade soars up, and is coming down through the air when the rest have struck the water. Keep your hands, especially the inside one, light on the handle of the oar, and let them come up as the body swings forward."

(6) "Two, your arms are bending too soon. Try to swing back with perfectly straight arms. Don't imagine that you can row your stroke merely by the power of your arms. Also try and keep your shoulders down at the finish and on the recovery."

(7) "Bow, swing back straight. Your body is falling out of the boat at the finish. Use the outside leg and hand more firmly through the stroke, and row the hands a little higher in to the chest; also arch the inside of the wrist a little more to help you in turning the oar on the feather."

So much for individuals. Now for the crew.

(1) "The finish and recovery are not a bit together. I can almost hear eight distinct sounds as the oars turn in the rowlocks. Try and lock it up absolutely together. There ought to be a sound like the turning of a key in a well-oiled lock—sharp, single, and definite."

(Note.—This is a very important point. On the unison with which the wrists turn and the hands shoot away depends the unison of the next stroke. When once, in coaching, you have locked your crew together on this point, you will greatly decrease the difficulty of the rest of your task.)

(2) "Don't let the boat roll down on the bow oars. Stroke side, catch the beginning a little sharper. Bow side, when the roll of the boat begins, do not give in to it by still further lowering your hands. Keep your hands up." (The same instruction applies, mutatis mutandis, when the boat rolls on the stroke oars. Apart from individual eccentricities, a boat is often brought down on the one bank of oars by the fact that the opposite side, or one or two of them, grip the water a little too late.)

(3) "You are all of you slow with your hands. Rattle them out sharply, and make your recovery much more lively. Steady now! don't rush forward. Keep the swing slow and long. You are all much too short on the swing, and consequently get no length in the water."

[(4) "...] Watch the bodies in front of you as they move, and mould yourself on their movement."

(5) "You have fallen to pieces again. Use your ears as well as your eyes, and listen for the rattle of the oars in the rowlocks. Whenever you fall to pieces, try to rally on that point. Also plant your feet firmly on the stretchers, and use your legs more when the boat rolls."

These, I think, are a fair sample of the faults that may be found in almost any crew, and to their eradication coach and oarsmen have patiently to devote themselves.

SNAPSHOTS OF A CREW IN MOTION.

Since 1891 boat-builders have somewhat increased the length of the boats they build, and it is not uncommon now to find boats with a measurement of 63 feet and a few inches over all. The boat whose measurements I have given had, if I remember rightly, a slightly wider beam at No. 3 stretcher than she had amidships. I have noticed, and my experience in this respect confirms that of Mr. W. B. Woodgate, though it is entirely opposed to the Rev. A. T. Shadwell's theories, that a boat with a full beam somewhere between No. 4 and No. 3 is always a fast one. A boat should never dip her head, but should always maintain it free.

Measurement of Oars.

On this matter there is now a great divergence of opinion amongst rowing men. From 1891 inclusive up to the present year, the Leander crews have, with trifling divergences, rowed with oars built on the following measurements:—

[Note.—These are what are called square blades, i.e. the widest part came at the end. Barrel blades are those in which the widest part comes about the middle. In 1893 an extra half-inch was added out-board. In 1896 the length of the Leander oars over all was only 11 ft. 11? ins., the in-board measurement being 3 ft. 8 ins. With these oars the Leander crew defeated Yale, and in the next heat, after a very severe struggle, rowed down and defeated New College, who were rowing with oars three inches longer out-board. Here are the measurements of the oars with which the Eton crew won the Ladies' Plate in 1885—

(These blades were "coffin"-shaped on a pattern invented by Dr. Warre.)]

Measurement of Oars of Oxford Crew, 1890.

In 1896 the Oxford crew rowed with oars measuring 12 ft. 2 ins. over all, with a leverage of 3 ft. 8¼ ins., and blade 6 ins. broad. With these, it will be remembered, they rowed down and defeated Cambridge, after a magnificent struggle, by two-fifths of a length, Cambridge using oars measuring some 3 ins. longer out-board. It will thus be seen that short oars have a very good record to support them—especially over the Henley course. This year, however, a reaction took place at Oxford in favour of longer oars with narrower blades. The Oxford Eight of this year rowed with oars measuring 12 ft. 6 ins. over all, the extra length being, of course, out-board, and their blades were cut down to a breadth of 5½ ins. They were, by common consent, a very fine crew, but were unable to command a fast rate of stroke, and in the race against an inferior crew they hardly did themselves or their reputation justice. This pattern of oar was used by New College at Henley, the blades, however, being further cut down to 5¼ ins. In the final heat of the Grand Challenge Cup, they met Leander, who were rowing with 12-ft. oars. Leander, rowing a considerably faster stroke, at once jumped ahead, and led by a length in three minutes. New College, however, came up to them, still rowing a slower stroke, then picked their stroke up, and, after rowing level with Leander for about 250 yards, finally defeated them by 2 ft. The result of this race cannot be said to have settled the question as between long oars and short. In the Stewards' Fours, on the other hand, Leander, rowing with oars measuring 12 ft. ½ in. over all, and blades 5¾ ins. in breadth, defeated New College, rowing with 12 ft. 6 ins. oars, and blades of 5½ ins., the leverage in both cases being 3 ft. 8½ ins. The advocates of the long oar maintain that they secure a longer stride, and are thus able to economize strength by using a slower rate of stroke. Those who favour the shorter ones believe that the extra lightness of their implement enables them to row a faster stroke without unduly tiring themselves. Personally, I found, after trying the experiment several times, that Leander crews I have coached invariably rowed better and commanded more speed in practice with 12 ft. to 12 ft. 1 in. oars than with oars 3 ins. or 4 ins. longer.[8]

It must be remembered, finally, that men, as well as measurements, have something to do with the pace of a crew, and that style and uniformity count for a good deal. The advocates of long or short oars will always be able to explain a defeat sustained by one of their crews by alleging causes that are totally unconnected with the measurement of the oars. On the other hand, such is their enthusiasm, they will attribute the victory of their crew entirely to their favourite pattern of oar.