COMBINED OARSMANSHIP IN EIGHTS.
The novice, having passed successfully through his period of apprenticeship, is by this time ready, let us suppose, to be included in an eight-oared, sliding-seat crew, either for his college or for the rowing club to which he may happen to belong. He will marvel at first at the fragile and delicate fabric of the craft in which he is asked to take his place. One-eighth of an inch of cedar divides him from the waters that are to be the scene of his prowess. In stepping into the boat he must exercise the greatest care. The waterman and the coxswain are firmly holding the riggers, while the oarsman, placing a hand on each gunwale to support self; steps cautiously with one foot on to the kelson, or backbone of the ship. Then he seats himself upon his slide, fits his feet into the straps, and inserts his oar in the rowlock, finally getting the button into its proper place by raising the handle, and so working at it until the button comes in under the string that passes from thole to thole, and keeps the oar from flying out of the rowlock. His seven companions having performed the same feats, the boat is now shoved out from the bank, and the work of the day begins.
The oarsman who thus takes his first voyage in a racing-ship, built, as all racing-ships are, without a keel, must remember that her stability, when she contains her crew, is obtained merely by the balance of the oars. Remove the oars, and the boat would immediately roll over to one side or the other, and immerse her crew in the water. With eight bodies and oars in a constant state of movement, the problem of keeping the boat upon an even keel is not an easy one. It can only be solved satisfactorily in one way: There must be absolute harmony in every movement. The hands must come in and out at the same moment and at the same level, and the oar-blades must neces sarily be maintained, on the feather and through out the swing, at the uniform level prescribed for them by the harmonious movement of eight pairs of hands. The bodies must begin, continue, and end the swing together ; the blades must strike the water at precisely the same moment ; all the bodies must swing back as if released from one spring ; the slides must move together ; the arms bend as by one simultaneous impulse ; and the eight oar blades, having swept through the water in a uniform plane, must leave it as though they were part of a single machine, and not moved by eight inde pendent wills. When this unison of movements has been attained by long and persevering practice, marred by frequent periods of disappointment, by knuckles barked as the boat rolls and the hands scrape along the gunwale, and by douches of cold water as the oars splash, then, and not till then, may it be said that a crew has got together.
The above details concern the harmony and unison of the crew. It is obvious, however, that the eight men who compose it may be harmonized into almost any kind of style, and it is important, therefore, to settle what is the best style—the style, that is, which will secure the greatest possible pace at the smallest cost of effort. In the first place, then, you must remember and endeavour to apply all the instructions I have laid down in the two previous chapters. These were framed upon the supposition that you were trying to qualify your self to row eventually in a light racing-ship. Sum ming these up generally, and without insisting again upon details, I may say that you are required to have a long, steady, and far-reaching body-swing; you must grip the beginning of the stroke well behind the rigger at the full reach forward without the loss of a fraction of a second, with a vigorous spring back of the whole body, so as to apply the body-weight immediately to the blade of the oar. As your body swings back, your feet are to press against the stretcher and drive the slide back, in order that, by the combination of body-swing and leg-drive, you may retain the power which you have applied at the beginning evenly throughout the whole of the stroke. It is essential that the body should not fall away at the finish, but main tain an easy, graceful position, so that, with a final pressure of the legs, the swing of the elbows past the sides, and a rowing back of the shoulders which opens the chest, the hands may be swept fair and square home, the oar-blade being mean while covered, but not more than covered, from the moment it enters the water until it is taken clean out. The hands must then leave the chest as a billiard-ball rebounds from the cushion, in order that you may have a smart and elastic recovery. This swift motion of the hands straightens the arms, and releases the body for its forward swing. The body-swing forward, as I cannot too often repeat, must be slow, especially during its latter part ; in fact, during that swing, a perfect balance must be maintained, the feet being well planted against the stretcher. When a man rows in this style with seven other men, in absolute time and harmony with them, he will find a rhythmical pleasure and a delightful ease in movements which at the outset were cramped and difficult. Then, as he swings his body, grips the water and drives his swirling oar-blade through, he will feel that every ounce of strength he puts forth has its direct and appreciable influence upon the pace of the boat. Not for him then will it be to envy the bird in its flight, as, with all his muscles braced, his lungs clear, and his heart beating soundly, he helps to make his craft move like a thing of life over the water.