"Are all the oars down?"
"Up and over heads, ready, up!"
"Weighenough!"
"Hurry up on the dock!"
"Coach, my coxbox isn't working."
Part two will be a run-through of a typical on-the-water practice!
The bell rings at 3:00. Those who got out at 2:10, already changed, head outside to the one school bus parked perpendicular to the rest and on the other side of the parking lot. Those who get out at 3:00 dash to the bus before it leaves, planning to change once at the boathouse. The bus is always too full. The last few to arrive are relegated to a helpful parent or senior rower's car. After a half-hour bus ride full of the craziest conversations, we arrive at the boathouse.
The boathouse is at a park in an industrial town. The river goes under a bridge before coming to a wide, shallow area perfect for launching kayaks, canoes, skullers and shells. The boathouse itself has a small bathroom for both sexes, an office, and the large room often referred to by itself as "the boathouse." Several long, tall racks fit six Eights on each side. To reach the top racks, we use industrial lifts (think Genie brand).
This isn't our boathouse, but it is similar. We even have a few boats that look exactly like those yellow ones.
Rowers get oars from their places at the back of the boathouse. Usually we need all the oars. Twice this season we've been short a few oars, and the rowers of a four have to stay on land. The oars are in sets, by handles. Some have orange tape around them near the blades; some have purple wrappings around the handles; most are identified by the tape just above the handles. Each boat has a set. Oars are propped up on a railing overlooking the river and a few feet from the dock. The sets are together in clumps, and if someone does it right they are put in pairs, one starboard and one port, within the clumps.
Coxswains shout the name of the boat they're coxing to get their rowers' attentions. Our eights are the Trailblazer, the Blazing Paddles, the Tsunami, and the Blitzkrieg. It's common for boats to have "fierce" names like that, sort of like it's common to have "fierce" mascots like tigers, eagles, or bears. Then again, like some mascots are socks or rockets, some boats have more pleasant names, like the Charlie, one of our fours.
"All hands on the Blazing Paddles!" And eight rowers walk to the boathouse, where we may or may not have to wait for another team to get their boats out first. Two rowers get the lifts, one in the bow and one in the stern. All eight carry the boat on our shoulders down to a ramp, where we have to go over heads due to its narrow width. Often the dock, which can only hold two boats at a time, has a line of boats coming up the ramp and across the parking lot to the boathouse. Waiting while holding the boat is annoying, as we hold it at waist height ("Down to waists, ready, down!") and it tires out our arms.
Meanwhile, the coaches are setting up small, simple motorboats filled with life jackets, a canoe paddle, and a megaphone. Extra rowers get sent to the launches, as the boats are called. Rowers in the launch effectively get half a day off, and switch in sometime during the row. Usually. Sometimes the coaches just never meet up with the right boat, and a rower gets a whole day off.
Eventually we get the boat into the water. The coxswain calls one side to get oars, the other side to get oarlocks. ("Ports get oars!") The oarlocks, as you remember from my previous post, hold the oar in place. The side that stays behind unlocks and opens the oarlocks, puts their shoes in the boat, grabs waterbottles, and etc. The side that goes to get oars grabs a pair, one for themselves and one for their pair partner. Once all the oars are in place (with the oars that would be out on the water pulled as close to the dock as possible, to keep it balanced), the coxswain steps in ("Hold for the coxswain!"). He/she plugs the coxbox in and tests it to see if everyone can hear. By now, everyone is standing next to their seats, with their shoes off and in the boat already. The oars that go out to the water are pushed out ("Ports, oars out on the water!"). The coxswain calls again: "One foot in, and, in!" At the coxswain's call, all eight rowers step into the boat, one foot at a time. Velcro and shoelaces are tightened, oars held, shoes stowed away.
"Count down from bow when ready!"
"Bow!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
"Four!"
"Five!"
"Six!"
"Seven!"
"Eight!"
"Push off the dock, and lean away!"
Leaning away from the dock to balance the oars still on it, all eight rowers push off with their hands. This is usually complemented by two rowers on the dock side pushing with their oars; in our scenario, where the ports' oars are out to the water, the starboards' would be dockside, so Bow and Seven would push off.
Bow pair usually rows the boat out to the main part of the river. Once we're all situated, we warm up. Our usual warmup is the pit drill, rowing by fours. "Bow four, arms only, row." After about twenty strokes, "In two strokes, arms and back, one, two." Another twenty. "In two strokes, half slides, one, two." Another twenty strokes. "In two strokes, full slides, one, two." Another twenty strokes, "And weighenough." Then the fours switch.
Next comes an hour and a half of rowing, based on the workouts the coaches told the coxswains earlier. Today, in our hypothetical practice, the coach wants us to work on technique and keeping together. We row all eight for a while to get used to each other, then start some drills. There are far more boats than coaches, so the varsity girls usually get left to our own devices while the novices and boys get help from the coaches. The coxswain is effectively our coach for the practice.
After a while of rowing, we hang out at a common turning-around wide area, about 1.5 Kilometers downriver. The coxswain, who has a sense of humor, is bantering with Three seat, who is jokingly complaining.
"I like coxing soooo much better than rowing, [coxswain]! I'm so tired and I like bossing you guys around."
The boat laughs.
"Yeah, [Three]," says Eight, "I'm sure you do."
"I do! It's so much fun."
"You wanna cox? I haven't rowed in ages, not since sophomore year. Let's switch and see if the coach notices when he comes by!"
"Yes!"
After some discussion, gunnel-running is arranged. Two holds Three's oar. Three starts toward the stern, crouched, doing her best to avoid oars and to keep the boat from tipping over. She sits in Eight's lap while the Coxswain, jean-clad and clutching her phone, walks down the boat in a similar manner to the empty seat. She situates herself, and Three takes the microphone and speaks into the microphone. "Awesome! All right wimps, let's row."
But it doesn't take long to realize that our coxswain has no idea how to row the way we do. We sit and chat for a while, until the coach checks up on us and immediately notices the switch.
More rowing. The stress is on the legs, if you row correctly. Arms, back, shoulders, and abs also get their fair share of soreness. But that's easy to ignore compared to the blisters forming on palms and the sides of thumbs.
Typical rower hands. You can see a blister from feathering on the thumb. I'd venture a guess that this rower is a port, since (s)he feathers with the right hand.
And yet, through the pain, it is immense fun. The click of oarlocks in sync is one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard; the only thing that could rival it would be the TARDIS' vworp-vworp noise. The river, though polluted, is very scenic. Something about crew requires camaraderie unparalleled in any activity I've ever done. The little breaks we get and the conversations during them are hilarious and fun. Even the rowing itself is inexplicably enjoyable, as long as it's not a long power piece of awful terror and horror. The motion is fluid and natural, and knowing you're getting better and stronger is a lifting feeling.
Finally, we come back to the dock. Docking is like getting out onto the water, but in reverse. There are only two changes this time: docking the boat, and cleaning it. A really good coxswain can dock without incident; unfortunately, ours are still getting the hang of it. It's difficult to judge the distance to go before turning. If the boat misses by too much, it takes forever to go sideways to the dock. If the boat doesn't turn enough and goes at a wrong angle, we could damage the bow ball or, even worse, the skeg.
Carrying the boat is far more exhausting after a hard row than before.
The coxswain runs ahead to grab boat slings, one for the bow and one for the stern. Rowers set the boat into the slings and disperse: some get oars, some grab the hose and sponges to rinse off the boat, a couple run off to have a moment's rest and conversation.
When everyone's back and done with what they need to do, the rowers pick the boat up and put it back in the boathouse.
Finally. Everyone's exhausted. Sometimes a coach will pull the rowers of one boat over for a talk. Sometimes the whole team meets up on a hill, next to the parking lot and only a hundred meters from a railroad (Yep. Industrial town, remember?), to stretch and cool down. More often, we just head straight to the bus and relax.
The bus takes us back to school, where parents wait in minivans and Priuses to take us home.
There you have it! One full rowing practice. Don't forget, the comments thread is open to queries and commentaries. I get a notification every time someone comments, so I will get back to you quickly.
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