THE OXFORD AND CAMBRIDGE ROWING STYLES.

Whatever opinion we may have of the result of the approaching contest (1869), there can be no doubt that this year, as in former years, there is a striking dissimilarity between the rowing styles of the dark blue and the light blue oarsmen. This dissimilarity makes itself obvious whether we compare the two boats as seen from the side, or when the line of sight is directed along the length of either. Perhaps it is in the latter aspect that an unpractised eye will most readily detect the difference I am speaking of. Watch the Cambridge boat approaching you from some distance, or receding, and you will notice in the270 rise and fall of the oars, as so seen, the following peculiarities—a long stay of the oar in the water, a quick rise from and return to the water, the oars remaining out of the water for the briefest possible interval of time. In the case of the Oxford boat quite a different appearance is presented—there is a short stay in the water, a sharp rise from and return to it, and between these the oars appear to hang over the water for a perceptible interval. It is, however, when the boats are seen from the side that the meaning of these peculiarities is detected, and also that the fundamental distinction between the two styles is made apparent to the experienced eye. In the Cambridge boat we recognise the long stroke and ‘lightning feather’ inculcated in the old treatises on rowing: in the Oxford boat we see these conditions reversed, and in their place the ‘waiting feather’ and lightning stroke. By the ‘waiting feather’ I do not refer to what is commonly understood by slow feathering, but to a momentary pause (scarcely to be detected when the crew is rowing hard) before the simultaneous dash of the oars upon the first grip of the stroke.15 And observing more closely—which, by the way, is no easy matter—as either boat dashes swiftly past, we detect the distinctive peculiarities of ‘work’ by which the two styles are severally arrived at. In the Cambridge crew we see the first part of the stroke done with the shoulders—precisely accord271ing to the old-fashioned models—the arms straight until the body has fallen back to an almost upright position; then comes the sharp drop back of the shoulders beyond the perpendicular, the arms simultaneously doing their work, so that as the swing back is finished, the backs of the hands just touch the ribs in feathering. All these things are quite in accordance with what used to be considered the perfection of rowing; and, indeed, this style of rowing has some important good qualities and a very handsome appearance. The lightning feather, also, which follows the long sweeping stroke, is theoretically perfect. Now, in the case of the Oxford crew, we observe a style which at first sight seems less excellent. As soon as the oars are dashed down and catch their first hold of the water, the arms as well as the shoulders of each oarsman are at work.16 The result is, that when the back has reached an upright position, the arms have already reached the chest, and the stroke is finished.272 Thus the Oxford stroke takes a perceptibly shorter time than the Cambridge stroke; it is also, necessarily, somewhat shorter in the water. One would, therefore, say it must be less effective. Especially would an unpractised observer form this opinion, because the Oxford stroke seems to be much shorter in range than it is in reality. There we have the secret of its efficiency. It is actually as long as the Cambridge stroke, but is taken in a perceptibly shorter time. What does this mean but that the oar is taken more sharply, and, therefore, much more effectively, through the water?

Much more effectively so far as the actual conditions of the contest are concerned. The modern racing outrigger requires a sharp impulse, because it will take almost any speed we can apply to it. It will also retain that speed between the strokes, a consideration of great importance. The old-fashioned racing-eights required to be continually under propulsion. The lightning-feather was a necessity in their case, for between every stroke the boat would lag terribly with a slow-feathering crew. I do not say, of course, that the speed of a light outrigged craft does not diminish between the strokes. Anyone who has watched a closely contested bumping-race, and noticed the way in which the sharply cut bow of the pursuing boat draws up to the rudder of the other as by a succession of impulses, although either boat seen alone would seem to sweep on with almost uniform speed, will know that the motion of273 the lightest boat is not strictly uniform. But there is an immense difference between the almost imperceptible loss of way of a modern eight and the dead ‘lag’ in the old-fashioned craft. And hence we get the following important consideration. Whereas with the old boats it was useless for a crew to attempt to give a very quick motion to their boat by a sharp, sudden ‘lift,’ this plan is calculated to be, of all others, the most effective with the modern racing-eight.

It may seem, at first sight, that, after all, the result of the Cambridge style should be as effective as that of the other. If arms and shoulders do their work in both crews with equal energy—which we may assume to be the case—and if the number of strokes per minute is equal, the actual propulsive energy ought to be equal likewise. A little consideration will show that this is a fallacy. If two men pull at a weight together they will move it farther with a given expenditure of energy than if first one and then the other apply his strength to the work. And what is more to the purpose, they will be able to move it faster. So shoulders and arms working simultaneously will give a greater propulsive power than when working separately, even though in the latter case each works with its fullest energy. And not only so, but by the simultaneous use of arms and shoulders, that sharpness of motion can alone be given which is essential to the propulsion of a modern racing-boat.

I have said that the two crews are severally274 rowing in the style which has lately been peculiar to their respective Universities. But the Cambridge crew is rowing in that form of the Cambridge style which brings it nearest to the requirements of modern racing. The faults of the style are subdued, so to speak, and its best qualities brought out effectively. In one or two of the long series of defeats lately sustained by Cambridge the reverse has been the case. At present, too, there is a certain roughness about the Oxford crew which encourages the hopes of the light blue supporters. But it must be admitted that this roughness is rather apparent than real, great as it seems, and it will doubtless disappear before the day of encounter. I venture to predict that the ‘time’ of the approaching race, taken in conjunction with the state of the tide, will show the present crews to be at least equal to the average.17

(From the Daily News, April 1869.)