Little did I envisage that starting at vicar factory would enable me to get back into a boat. Before coming to study at Wycliffe Hall the last time I rowed was in my final year at Monkton in 1989. I was a little apprehensive at the thought of competing with fresh faced 18 and 19 year olds but the draw to row again was very strong. I don't quite know what it was that made me so keen to pick up my oar again. Was it the opportunity to achieve something I could look back on with some pride, or being fit, the sense of camaraderie perhaps, or even proving that I wasn't too old(!)?
I started my rowing come-back by joining The Queen's College BC. Queen's are not the best Oxford college on the river at the moment, but their training must be one of the hardest! I was delighted to find myself in the college 1st VIII. I caused some confusion on the water on more than one occasion by wearing my rather faded Monkton 1st VIII top.
After the college season came to an end with the bumps races known as 'Eights' in May, I was left feeling I would really like one more chance to compete at Henley. The only option open to me was rowing for the University lightweights summer squad. In a highly accelerated process crews were selected and trained to compete at the Regatta in about 3 weeks. I wound up being put in at stroke. The last time I had competed at HRR was in 1988. Sadly, our result then was repeated, as we were knocked out in the first round. But the whole experience was an effective introduction to lightweight rowing.
In September the hard slog of training and then selection began. More than once I found myself looking for some good excuse to give up. None was forthcoming! I found the combination of 12 training sessions a week and losing weight debilitating. However, by Christmas I had been in the winning eight in the trial eights' race on the Tideway.
We left for Spain on Boxing Day for a training camp on the Elbe. On the third day of the camp freak weather conditions resulted in both eights sinking. Mine sank near the bank, but the other sank in the middle of the river. For some reason one of the crew, Leo Blockley, left the shell to swim to shore. He must have been overcome by the swell. His body wasn't found for several weeks.
The aftermath of Leo's death raised all sorts of questions. One of the positive outcomes was a reminder that life is much bigger than winning or losing a boat race. Leo's parents were inspirational. They showed real bravery in facing head-on the reality of their son's death without a hint of bitterness or looking for someone to blame. As one of several Christians in the squad I was very glad to talk with some of the guys about it all. What a difference it makes to have confidence in God when facing death!
The squad went through a rocky patch over the following few weeks. These set-backs added to delays due to flooding. Selection was put back more and more. Eventually two eights were chosen. I was put in at 5 in a bow-rigged Blue Boat. I was given a target weight of 72kg, which allowing for crew variation, would give us the requisite average of 70kg (11 stone). The crew gelled well, and in the final 3 or 4 weeks before the Boat Race we had some really good rowing, although for a variety of reasons very little formal competition.
The men's lightweights traditionally race at Henley along with the women's heavyweights and lightweights on a different w/e to the famous Boat Race on the Tideway. However, yet again due to unusually high water levels rowing was disrupted and the event was moved to Nottingham. Our final few days of preparation went well and on the day itself 1 April, we felt confident that we would be giving reputedly one of the best Cambridge lightweight crews ever a very close race. We were mistaken. Our row went according to plan - the result didn't. Cambridge won by 3½ lengths - a large margin by any estimation. It was some consolation that our reserve crew Nephthys won their race against Granta.
Was it all wasted because of our defeat on 1 April? By no means! I feel enormously privileged to have had the opportunity to row for OULRC. The value of the experience to my mind is determined by much more than one 6½ minute race! Was it fun? Any serious rower will know that most of the time rowing could hardly be described as 'fun'. The relentless training regime, aching limbs, freezing mornings, lack of sleep and social life, and to begin with a far off goal negate most possibilities of fun. However, perhaps a little like Eric Liddel I felt that God had given me some ability and I wanted to use it to his glory. I hope I won't forget the lessons I have learned over the previous 6 months, nor the friends I have made through it all.
Patrick Bamber