Rowing Part 10

THE NECESSITY OF HAVING A b.u.t.t.

Let me turn now to lighter matters, for there are lighter matters connected with rowing. And first let me insist on the necessity of having a b.u.t.t in a crew. It appears strange at first sight that the system of training--that is to say, of diet, of early hours, of healthy exercise, and of perfect regularity in all things, which has so admirable an effect upon the condition of the body, should sometimes impair the powers of the mind, and absolutely shatter the temper. I have seen eight healthy, happy, even-tempered young men go into training together for three weeks. They were all the best of friends. Tom had known d.i.c.k at school, and both had been inseparable from Harry ever since they had gone up to the University. With these three the other five were closely linked by a common pursuit and by common interests.

Each one of them was a man of whom his friends could say, he was the easiest man to get on with you could possibly meet. Yet mark what happened. At the end of three weeks every man in that crew was the proud possessor of seven detested foes. They ate their food in morose silence; they took no delight in the labour of the oar, and each one confided to his outside friends his lamentable opinions about the seven other members of the crew. Even now, though years have pa.s.sed away, no one who rowed in that crew can look back without horror on those three terrible weeks. Why was this so? The simple answer is this, that the crew in question did not number among its members a b.u.t.t. I doubt if the importance of a b.u.t.t in modern boat-racing has been properly recognized.

Speaking from an experience of many years, I should affirm unhesitatingly, if I did not remember what I have written in previous chapters, that in an ordinary crew, composed, as ordinary crews are, of men and not of angels, the position of b.u.t.t is a far more important and responsible one than that of stroke or No. 7. If you can find a good, stout, willing b.u.t.t--a b.u.t.t who lends himself to nicknames, and has a temper as even as a billiard-table and as long as a tailor's bill--secure him at once and make him the nucleus of your crew. There may be difficulties, of course, if he should happen to be a heavy weight without a notion of oarsmanship, but these defects can easily be mitigated by good coaching, and in any case they cannot be allowed to count against the supreme merit of keeping the rest of the crew in good temper. Salient characteristics are apt to be a rock of offence to a training crew. To be a silent thinker does not give rise to happiness in the seven who watch you think. It is an even deadlier thing to be an eloquent gabbler or a dreary drawler. There is nothing an ordinary rowing man detests so much as windy eloquence, unless it be perhaps the miserable indolence which is known as slackness. The b.u.t.t must therefore be neither silent, nor slack, nor a drawler. Nature will probably have saved him from being a thinker or an orator. He must be simply good-natured without affectation, and ready to allow tempers made stormy by rowing and training to break upon his broad back without flinching.

Your true b.u.t.t is always spoken of as "old" So-and-so, and, as a rule, he is a man of much sharper wits, with a far keener insight into character, than most of those who buffet or tease him. Among eminent b.u.t.ts may be named Mr.----, but on second thoughts I refrain.

LEISURE TIME.

It seems a mere plat.i.tude to say that a man who can occupy his spare moments in writing or reading is likely to be happier and more even-tempered than one who is never seen with a book or a pen in his hand. Yet it is a plat.i.tude of which not many oarsmen realize the force; and, indeed, it is not an uncommon sight to see most of the members of a crew sitting about listlessly in armchairs or talking the stale futilities of rowing shop when they might with more solid advantage be engaged, let us say, in following Mr. Stanley Weyman's or Dr. Conan Doyle's latest hero through the mazes of his exciting adventures. At Oxford or Cambridge, of course, a man has his lectures to attend, his fixed tale of work to get through. But at Putney or at Henley this is not so. There a man is thrown back on his own resources, a companionship which he does not always seem to find particularly cheerful or attractive. A billiard table, of course, is a valuable adjunct to training quarters, but this is scarcely ever found at Henley, and not always at Putney. Besides, most of us, after a short time, cease to take any pleasure whatever in a game in which we are not qualified to shine.

The joy of reading the sporting reporter's account of your doings, and of proving conclusively that he knows nothing about rowing, lasts but a short time every morning. I may, therefore, offer the oarsman a piece of advice which is, sound, in spite of its copybook flavour, and that is, that he shall cultivate a habit of reading, and, if possible, of reading good literature. Many moralists might recommend this habit on the common ground that good literature tends to improve the tone of a man's mind; and even a coach who is not a moralist will find it useful in distracting the thoughts of his men. Besides, it is quite pleasant in after life to recognize a well-worn quotation in a newspaper article, and to remember, probably with complete inaccuracy, where it originated.

A little attention to writing and spelling might also prove valuable.

Oarsmen who had devoted themselves, say for ten minutes a day, to these simple tasks, would have been saved from perpetrating the following correspondence, which I quote _verbatim et literatim_ from letters in my possession:--

"DEAR----

"It has been reported to me that you broke training last night you were seen smoking not only a few wiffs but a whole pipe I have therefore decided to turn you out of the boat.

"Yours, etc."

Answer to the above--

"DEAR----

"I am in reciet of your letter it is true that I smoked two whifs (not "wiffs" as you say) out of another man's pipe but that's all however I don't want to row in your beastly boat.

"Yours, etc."

AQUATIC AXIOMS.

I may add here some axioms which have been printed before,[11] but which I may venture to repeat in a treatise on rowing. The years that have pa.s.sed since they were first set down have not weakened my conviction that they are accurate. I still believe myself justified in stating--

(1) That if two crews row a course within ten minutes of one another, the wind is always more violent and the stream more powerful against the crew in which you yourself happen to be rowing.

(2) That it is always right to take off at least five seconds from the time shown on your stop-watch in timing your own crew, and to add them, by way of compensation, to the time shown on the same watch when timing a rival crew.

(3) That your own crew is absolutely the only one which ever rows the full course right out or starts at the proper place.

(4) That if your crew is impeded while rowing a course you must allow ten seconds; but if any other crew is impeded you must allow only two seconds.

(5) That if you row a slow course, No. 5's stretcher gave way, or his slide came off.

(6) That you could always knock a quarter of a minute off when you row a faster stroke, but that--

(7) You never do, as a matter of fact, row a faster stroke.

(8) That your crew always rowed a slower stroke than the rest.

(9) That you are sure to do a faster time to-morrow.

(10) That your private opinion is, that if everybody in the crew did as much work as you do yourself your crew would be many lengths faster, and--

(11) (and last) That you always lose by the steering of your c.o.xswain three lengths, which all other crews gain by the steering of theirs.

[11] In "In Cambridge Courts."

CHAPTER IX.

FOUR-OARS AND PAIR-OARS--SWIVEL ROWLOCKS.

A good c.o.xswainless four-oared crew represents skill and watermanship, as distinguished from mere brute strength, in their highest development.

I may lay it down as an axiom that any man who can row well in a c.o.xswainless Four will row equally well in an eight-oared crew. The converse of this is, however, by no means true. A man may do good work in an Eight, and yet be incapable of doing himself justice in a Four, or, indeed, of helping the pace of the boat in any way. Rowing of a more refined order is requisite for a Four. Greater power of balance is needed, and a more perfect sense of that rhythm which goes far to secure uniformity in rowing. You may have in your Eight a clumsy heavy-weight, who at No. 5 can use his strength to wonderful advantage, in spite of various aberrations from correct form. But if you put this man at No. 3 in a Four, the results are sure to be disastrous. An easier style of movement is required for a Four. A strenuous application of all the body-weight at the beginning of the stroke is still, no doubt, necessary. The beginning must, of course, be gripped, and that firmly; but the best four-oared rowing I have seen always gave me the impression that a sort of "oiling" method of progression, in which steady leg-pressure plays a prominent part, was best suited to a Four which is not enc.u.mbered with the weight of a c.o.xswain. Over and over again have Eights been defeated at Henley for the Grand Challenge Cup, and yet Fours, selected from their members, have been able to beat all comers in the Stewards'. From 1868 to 1878 the London Rowing Club won the Grand five times. In the same period of eleven years their Four was only once defeated for the Stewards', proving, if any proof were needed, that an inferior Eight (I use the term merely relatively) may contain a first-cla.s.s victorious Four. On the other hand, from 1891 to 1897, a period during which Leander won the Grand five times, they were able to win the Stewards' only once, and that was this year, when their Eight was defeated. Instances of this kind might be multiplied.

But besides skill in oarsmanship, another element, which adds greatly both to the difficulties and pleasures of a Four, has to be considered.

This is the necessity that one of the oarsmen should not only row, but also guide the course of the boat by steering with his foot. It is evident that watermanship of a very high order is needed for this feat.

The steerer must know the course and all its points perfectly. The ordinary oar often finds it difficult to keep time when his eyes are glued on the back of the men in front of him, but the steerer in a Four has to keep time and regularity, even though he may be forced to look round in order to ascertain the true direction of his boat. An oarsman in an Eight has both his feet firmly fixed; a steerer of a Four must keep one foot constantly ready for movement. And all this he has to do without making the boat roll, or upsetting the harmony of his crew.

These difficulties, no doubt, are great; but when once they have been overcome, and the crew has shaken absolutely together, there can be few pleasures in the world of exercise comparable to that of rowing in a Four.

During a long period the London Rowing Club had almost a monopoly of good Fours. Their crews showed a degree of watermanship which in those days University oarsmen despaired of attaining to. Gulston, Stout, A. de L. Long, Trower, and S. Le B. Smith were not only names to conjure with, but showed in their rowing that perfection of apparently simple ease which lies at the root of success in four-oared rowing. Who that ever witnessed it can forget the sight, once well-known at Henley, of Mr. F.

S. Gulston as he rowed and steered his Four to victory? As a recent Cambridge versifier said of him--

"They can't recall, but ah, I can, How hard and strong you looked, sir; Twelve stone, and every ounce a man, Unbeatable, uncooked, sir.

Our French friends, had they seen your rude Vast strength had cried, '_Ah quel beau Rameur, celui qui arque le coude_'-- That is, protrudes his elbow.

"Your ship could run like Charley's Aunt, And you, demure as Penley, Knew all the wiles that might enchant The river nymphs at Henley.

No piles had yet marked out the way Forbidding men to try on The tricks that found round every bay The short cuts to the 'Lion.'

"Each inch of bay you knew by heart, You knew the slackest water; All foes who faced you at the start, You beat, and beat with slaughter.

To 'form' a stranger, yet your style The kind that much endures was.

I never saw--forgive the smile-- A rounder back than yours was.

"But round or straight, when all dismayed Your rivals lagged in trouble, Still with a firm, unfaltering blade You drove the swirling bubble.

With you to speed the hours along No day was ere spent dully, Our stalwart, cheerful, matchless, strong, Our undefeated Gully."

As a matter of record it may be stated that Mr. Gulston won five Grand Challenge Cup medals and ten Stewards' Cup medals, Mr. A. de L. Long five Grand Challenge Cup medals and eight Stewards' Cup medals, and Mr.

S. Le B. Smith four Grand Challenge Cup medals, and seven Stewards' Cup medals. No oarsman of the present day can boast of anything like such a record in these two events.

The art of four-oared rowing, then, was brought to perfection by the crews of the London Rowing Club many years ago; but there is no danger that it will be forgotten by oarsmen of the present day. Indeed, the rowing of the Leander Four that won the Stewards' Cup this year was about as good as four-oared rowing can be. They were absolutely together, they rowed with most perfect ease, and in the race they beat record time by seven seconds, and might have beaten it by still more, had they not easied a length or two from the finish. Their weights were as follows:--

Bow. C. W. N. Graham 10 st. 2 lbs.

2. J. A. Ford 12 st. 1 lb.

3. H. Willis 11 st. 12 lbs.

Guy Nickalls (stroke, and steers) 12 st. 7 lbs.