Articles 1977-1996 - A Rowing Odyssey From Monkton to Eastbourne via Reading

I suppose it was inevitable that, last saturday,when I attended a very good dinner at St. Edward‘s, Oxford, to celebrate 50 years of National Schools Regatta, a short, bespectacled and entirely familiar figure should ask me to write (well, word-process, actually) an article for the distinguished Bluefriars Newsletter. When you have been approached by the editor, it‘s worth giving up an hour or so to claim a few column inches.The story so far. I left Reading University in 1986, clutching a PGCE, having secured an English post at Eastbourne College. On arrival I asked to see the boathouse and river•. I was given a quizzical look by Oxford/Leander man Culain Morris (father of Jeremy, OM ‘94), and driven out into the wild Pevensey marshes. As we hurtled down a narrow track with nothing but fields in sight, and Eastbourne receding into the distance, I began to wonder exactly what kind of rowing the school offered. Then, almost out of nowhere, emerged a pre-fab barn and a wide ditch-known as Wallers Haven - which looked about 500 metres long. The reason why Eastbourne only rowed fours was obvious. An outing in a quirky aluminium scull enabled me to explore the extent of a training stretch that makes Monkton‘s look magnificent. My first shock was negotiating three sharp bends in quick succession. Bad Corner seems innocuous by comparison. Eventually the so-called dog-leg • came into view, 900 metres of water ending at a sluice gate, with a convenient pub nearby at the aptly called Norman‘s Bay. I paddled back, realising what kind of challenges lay before me. Such logistical and training difficulties made me wonder how Eastbourne ever won anything. Coaching crews soon proved to be something of an assault course at Wallers Haven. Provided one enjoys cross country, can look one way whilst running the other, hurdle gates, avoid herds of highly inquisitive cattle and is reasonably fit, it may be possible to comment meaningfully on what is occurring on the water, Thankfully there are a few minutes breather after each trip. But chasing a coxless four at full pressure is only for the likes of Michael Johnson. In the head race season, Eastbourne crews look distinctly uncomfortable as they enter the fourth minute, being accustomed to easying and turning round. Allowing for the wind is another hazard. Ignoring the wind speed and direction can mean a wasted journey driving twenty pupils eight miles just to spend much of the outing being blasted by a capricious crosswind that can make serious training impossible. At the present only two coaches look after all the crews, but an ex-parent, who is also an Olympic oarsman and sculler, helps to fill in the gaps. And what of the equipment? Thankfully, ageing wooden boats and oars have given way to the plastic revolution. Brian Mawer, (who taught me to row), would be appalled, but whilst wooden boats are aesthetically pleasing, a lack of boatman and maintenance facilities has made it essential to fund raise,and haggle endlessly with the bursar, whilst keeping the other sports in the dark about budgetary requirements. Kind parents, and OE‘s have been vital in supplying new fours. Our wooden boats are either book cases or sold off. Meanwhile the popularity of rowing continues as we go fully co-educational. About 35 pupils row regularly in the Lent and Summer terms, and in September the new girls besiege the master in charge, curious to have a go at something different, or simply to escape from the tyranny of the ballsports.