So avid followers of this blog (hi Mum!) will notice that I didn’t immediately follow-up on my post about the Nephthys Regatta. Suffice to say it was a bit of a shambles. More accurate to say it was a total disaster.
Rowing up to the head of the river, my Spidey sense was tingling. It might have been that we’d just witnessed a Univ college crew capsizing, that we’d seen 3 crab-catches in the last half hour, or that we passed one girls’ crew which had managed to mount themselves up onto the river bank. Like a cartoon boat-escape scene, the back rowers were windmilling their paddles helplessly in the air trying desperately to dislodge themselves. I could just feel that something was amiss.
Sure enough, like baby birds we got off to a flying start, but soon crashed back to Earth. A caterpillar effect of oars, a few recoverable crab-catches…and then my seat broke! It came clean off, ricocheting me into the stroke and causing me to lose control of my oar. From then on it was just me hanging on for dear life, and the other girls trying to keep up with the other crew, with 130 (ok fine…140) pounds of whimpering deadweight slowing them down.
We lost. And not just by a whisker. The margin of difference was basically a hipster’s beard worth of whiskers.
But yesterday was our chance for redemption. Christ Church Regatta, day 1.
I gotta say, we killed it! Purged of first race jitters (for me it was all uphill (downhill? upstream?) from Nephthys), with a few extra sessions under our Morgan Stanley-sponsored splash jackets, and determined to win (or at least not humiliate ourselves), we rowed like our lives depended on it. We were like perky galley slaves, and my friend Stefanie (a 6 ft something Botticelli-faced, warrior-hearted German girl) our Ben Hur.
Guys, it was epic. Well, as epic as a first-round novice race can be.