Three Monkton Combe Junior School boys attended a rowing course at Eton in the summer holidays 1991. They were sponsored by Bluefriars.
We are grateful to Jess Ringham for this report.
The way to Eton was along a grey fast motorway. Cars flashing past our car window and the occasional sign. As my family were driving me steadily closer to the College, I began to notice the "Eton 5 miles" signs. Then 'the coin dropped', the feeling of being left alone with two friends out of eighty children, daunted me and poked and encouraged my worries a step further. As our car poured off the motorway, we were indulged the countryside and wildlife of Eton.
Eton College is scattered around various places, making itself known.
The rowing at Eton was challenging and demanding. Every morning, around seven o'clock, 'I had to be up and dressed and ready for a hectic day out. Breakfast was a habit to look forward to, and a strong coffee was the ideal solution to prepare yourself for a few miles rowing. We all had our own scuffles (boats), and were allowed to use them whenever possible; we did not get a choice of the numerous collection. I had roughly three rowing lessons a day and a swim in the afternoon or some baseball with the Old Etonians. In the evening, I was eventually able to relax and watch television, or have a go at table tennis, but I was mainly soothing my sore, blistered hands. Near the end of the holiday, we were shown the Eton classrooms and were also taken to Windsor Safari Park, and, although it rained on that day, the attractions of the Safari Park shone through.
I have been in single, double, four and eight seated rowing boats. I practised on ergometers (rowing machines) and I have even had a chance of being a cox, with the usual soaking from the rowers=
On the last day we had a headlong (a race). I managed to do quite well, straining my back for (hopefully) the last time that day. We all had a number pinned to our backs. At the end, trophies and medals were given out to certain people.
The whole holiday had been a thoroughly encouraging experience and although it was tough, I still pulled through, thinking 'if it hurts, it must be good'.
We are grateful to Mr Jonathan LeRoy for this article
A Story of great endeavours, last minute organization and petty politics (not necessarily in that order)
New Year's Day. Dark clouds and a biting wind. I'm standing with two other oarsmen outside our college boathouse with a suitcase in my hand. Various questions fonned in my mind: how do we get into the boathouse without a key? How can three people paddle an eight, two fours and a scull up to the Oxford City Boat Club where a trailer was apparently waiting? What was I doing here anyway?
An hour later, we had got the boathouse doors off their hinges, paddled the sculls and fours up to Oxford City and put them on the rusty old trailer. We were now faced with new problems as the three of us were meandering our precarious way up the river in a brand new yellow Empacher eight, stacked full of oars, trestles and suitcases. A shout from the opposite bank drew our attention to a fourth oarsman who would prove vital in getting the eight and contents out of the water and on to the trailer.
When the trailer was loaded, another crew member appeared with a friend's car-rescue van, complete with flashing orange lights, that he had borrowed to drive us up to Nottingham, where we would be trained by Terry Dillon, a Leander coach fresh back from the world championships in Tazmania=
This chaotic start was typical of college rowing: there was no 'dad-like' JMB figure to organize transport, so everything was left to the captain, who seemed to have had rather too good a Christmas.
The shambles, however, stopped the moment the crew hit the water and a useful week of intense training, both on the water and in the gym and ergo room was achieved before we retumed to Oxford. Fitness levels were boosted, hands were roughened and disparate rowing styles were brought into a semblance of crew unity before term started and the crew was picked, to attempt to retain the headship in Torpids (the Oxford inter-college bumping races held just before Easter) for the 20th time in a row.
As the term progressed, the tension started to build, big parties were planned if we managed to continue Oriel's dominance in college rowing. The training reflected this, with about 11 sessions a week (on average 8 on the water and 3 in the gym). The crew's unity and determination was moulded and strengthened as morning after morning we got up to cycle through the bitter cold and row on a frosty river before the sun had even come up. Various old boys came back to coach, including Richard Hull and Tony Ward, both members of the Blue boat in the famous year of he 1987 mutiny - their version of the story was very different from Dan Topolski's=
About two weeks before the races, a cold snap froze the Isis, where most college crew row. This caused the Secretary of OURCs, a student in charge of college rowing, to post a notice saying that training was banned because of dangerous conditions. This ban was posted on various boathouses on the Isis on the Friday night, but was not circulated to college captains as it should have been according to the constitution. Then, completely oblivious of the ban, we went out as usual to train at St Edward's School's stretch of river, along with various other colleges. We attempted to have an outing but were forced to return after 20 minutes because of the ice. The rest of the morning was spent in a mass snowball fight with the other college crews who had turned up to train, all unaware of the ban.
However, the next day, the OURCs Secretary, showing great eagerness to wield his power, informed us that because of this escapade, a four-bump penalty had been imposed and we would start in fifth position rather than head. At first, we thought this was some bizarre joke, but it soon became apparent that one bitter student, who had completely failed to make any impression on the rowing world inside a boat, had found a way to leave his mark on Oxford rowing.
The next two weeks were spent in frantic attempts to have the ruling over-turned, and numerous captains' meetings were held. The front page of the university newspaper covered the story 'hypeing' it beyond recognition and an emergency debate was held in the Union. But all to no avail. In a secretive meeting of carefully selected members of the Executive Committee of the OURCs, chaired by a man who had lost his place in the Blue Boat to a member of our crew two years before, his supporters refused our appeal of innocence.
In the end we started fourth and bumped New College on the first day in about a minute and a half. The next day, we managed to catch B.N.C., captained by O.M. Peter Askew, who had supported us in our attempt to have the penalty bumps removed. The final two days saw some intense racing between ourselves and Christ Church, who had accepted the Head position. 'The House' made good use of the advantages of rowing at Head of the River : having a lead of a length and a half and clear water to row on - a position to which Oriel had been well accustomed for the previous 19 years. On the final day, we closed to within inches of them and actually overlapped for a couple of strokes, but couldn't quite manage to make the bump.
Christ Church showed great courage in maintaining their slender lead and finished Head. We came off the water rather bemused, having made two bumps and proved ourselves to be the fastest crew on the river, yet still with the knowledge that Oriel's 19 year unbeaten record was ended without us even losing. We began to realise that there's more to rowing than just pulling an oar.