The Seven Wonders of the Dutch rowing World

The Netherlands is a short flight from the southern UK and their weather is similar to ours, but their rowing clubs are practically on a different planet.

Last weekend, I went on an informal 29km rowing tour there with Dutch friends, followed by a conference on touring rowing (organised by Toer!) the next day in Amsterdam, and was bowled over by what I found.

Wonder Number 1. Soft cushions!
We were the guests of a member of Baarn watersports club on the river Eem, south-east of Amsterdam. As you often find on the continent, there was a special cushion for the coxing seat of our touring coxed quad. So far so nicely organised.

But this club had taken the concept to a new level with monogramed embroidery: you cant quite see it in this photo, but the orange line of characters on the right are the Club name, and the small group in the top left are the boat name (so you dont accidentally take the wrong cushion for your boat – perish the thought).

Its kinda, "If Charles Tyrwhitt did boat cushions..."

Wonder Number 2: Rowing into a gallery
Anyway, we set off, and had a pleasant row past many fields to  the small town of Amersfoort, which mixes well-kept old buildings, with the most modern of modern architecture, and a great deal of "art" scattered all over the place.

This must be "art".
Not a clue what else it could be...

There was even a chandelier under the railway bridge. The perfect lighting if you were having a floating dinner party, I guess. Though possibly only for people using sign language, given the rumble of trains overhead.

Wonder number 3: The longest boathouse

Paddling back out of town, we stopped off at Hemus rowing clubs brand new home, which is, without doubt, the most spacious boathouse Ive ever seen (with the possible exception of Northeastern in Boston). 

Boats, almost as far as the eye can see.
Note also (OK, with a magnifying glass) the standard arrangement of a touring boat on the floor at the bottom of every rack, with fine boats above.
That, people, is how many touring boats the average Dutch club has. Wow OH wow.

The full length boat bays had no fewer then FOUR racks of boats along them (OK, not all VIIIs, but there were some), with copious spacing above each boat. You know how clothes are displayed in the windows of smart boutiques: a choice piece, carefully arranged on its own against complimentary surrounding. And you know how your rowing kit is stuffed into a big bag. Well, there you have Hemus rowing club compared with your average boathouse: a sort of zen of boat racking. You can just feel the calm, cant you?

As you might expect, there was also a massive bike park and a complete lack of car park, and to my utter astonishment, a sedum roof. Not sure what else I can say about that, other than !. And !!

But then the next day, I found another sedum roof at RIC in Amsterdam (I did take a photo, but once youve seen one picture of a boathouse with a sedum roof, youve seen em all) so, based on a sample size of three, I concluded that around 67% of Dutch boathouses have sedum roofs. I wonder if there are any in the UK? 

Wonder Number 5: No soggy towels, thanks, were Dutch!
Amidst such shiny new-ness, I was reassured to see that the club had clearly brought one thing from their previous shed: the obligatory 1950s mangle that I have observed in almost all Dutch rowing clubs, for wringing out the boat-wiping towels (where do they GET them from?).

Incidentally, when I say "almost all" clubs have these, the club back in Baarn where we started didnt have a mangle but had hurtled recklessly into the 21st century and had a dedicated boat-towel washing machine. Shocking stuff.

Wonder Number 6: What goes on Tour...

What goes on tour are Dutch rowers apparently. Big time. All the clubs I visited had a Tour Calendar on their club noticeboard, listing at least 12 events for the season, and I discovered that every club has a Touring Committee. A permanent group dedicated to organising tours (plural). Perhaps I should emigrate?

Wonder Number 7: Expressing rowing through the medium of...

When youve rowed for as long as I have, youve generally seen it all in terms of rowing lifestyle accessories: paintings, mugs, boxer shorts, ornaments, you know the kind of thing. But at RIC I found some novel ways of bringing rowing indoors. First, perfectly supporting Dutch stereotypes about painted tiles, the youth section had produced a set of decorated rowing tiles in the clubs orange and black colours:

The river was mapped on one of the bars coffee tables in inlaid marquetry (you cant see it in the photo blow, but bridges and locks were marked):

And finally, a highly creative member had expressed a tour route in the medium of tapestry:

Thats it for wonders, but like the sprinkles on your cupcake, heres a final fascinating fact pertaining to the social history of rowing. British rowers are well aware that  rowing use to have an obsession with "amateur" status, and the fact that (back in the day) it might only be done by "gentlemen". This led to the founding of clubs like Thames Tradesmen Rowing Club, whose members were barred from joining some of the amateur" clubs because their work involved a physical element. Rowing clubs in Amsterdam, however, followed different social divisions, with RIC having its origins as the Catholic rowing club (I gather that sectarian divisions ran as deep as British class divisions, till even more recently, not just with separate Catholic and Protestant schools but also hospitals, political parties and even TV channels). Apparently another club had originally been Jewish.

Photos: Martin Paasman and Helena Smalman-Smith.

The Rules of Expedition Rowing

Expedition rowing is not like "normal" rowing. Sure, you sit in a the same kind of boat, and do the same kind of stuff with the blades. Thats not what I mean. Expedition rowing requires strict adherence to three key rules. Ignore them and not only will you suffer, but your crew mates will suffer too, and theres every chance that you wont make it to the end of your chosen expedition.

However, Im not sure which order they belong in. Maybe theyre equally important? 

1. Eat. 
You use a lot of fuel when rowing long distances. Fact. Your fuel tank is not large enough to do the whole thing in one go (think Formula 1 in the 1990s, say, and not like it is today). Fact.

This all seems perfectly reasonable and sensible as you read this in front of your computer or other online device. But youd be surprised how often people get this wrong. although theres a good reason why they do.

Which is, that when you havent eaten enough, your decision making ability is impaired. And this leads to you making poor decisions about eating. Which only leaves you MORE "not having eaten enough": you can see the obvious spiral downwards.

So, here are some tips to remember about eating on expedition rows:

1. Eat when you have the opportunity. Dont wait till you feel hungry. You may not have the opportunity to eat then.
2. If you feel too tired to be able to make the effort to eat, use your last reserves of effort to eat. It will be worth it.
3. If you feel so tired that you dont think even eating will help you, eat anyway. It WILL help.

To help with point 1b, make sure you have easily-digestible, easy-to-eat food close to hand. I am a big fan of having a Ziplok bag of Jelly Babies by my rowing seat. My crew mates are often fans of this too (offering round Jelly Babies makes you someone people want to row with).

My crews hands after our first 160km race

round Lac Léman. Note the lack of blisters.

We wore gloves.

2. Look after your hands (and bum).
As far as Im concerned, there is absolutely no need to finish up with raw hands and skinned bottom at the end of an expedition row. Or, worse, part way through one.

Injuries like that are almost certainly going to  doing to reduce your physical performance, but they will also get you down. And long-distance rowing is generally hard enough mentally, without you making it unnecessarily worse.

So heres the deal: wear gloves. No, I know that, with one exception I can think of in the last 15 years, no international rower wears gloves. Or even any good club rower going to do an outing or a race. But this is different. Its expedition rowing. Youre not just nipping up and down the river for an hour and a half and then going home. Youve got to keep rowing all day. And possibly the day after too. Maybe even for several after that. And "once its gone, its gone".

Gloves may also not be enough: use tape too, and take supplies with you.

And heres what happens if you dont: the double Olympic gold medallist and ocean rower James Cracknell famously went on to do a race to the South Pole, in which he got infected blisters. However, he admitted later that when he felt his boots starting to rub, he didnt call for his team to stop so that he could tape up the friction points, and when they did next pause for a scheduled break, he didnt grab that opportunity to do so either, as it was a lot of effort and he was exhausted (Im sure he was).

And the point here is that, only a small part of the way in to his long trek, his feet were clearly not going to get any better by being ignored. It is NOT "manning up" to put up with the pain. Stop and tape up at the first sign of tenderness.

"Happy bum."

The same goes for your bottom. Fixed-seat skiffers face the greatest challenge here, with  condition known as "skiffers bum" being widespread, even from a 45 minute trip round up the river and back on a Sunday morning. 

Nevertheless, when I turned up for my first "meander" with a large piece of upholstery foam, there was a lot of laughter. Which had died down by half way through the first day. And when we assembled for my second, well, lets just say that "Square Sponge" had plenty of company (and the local branch of Fabric World couldnt understand its unusual spike in foam sales).

Things arent quite so difficult in the gluteus maximus area for sliding seat rowers, but theres still no need for unnecessary suffering. "One seat pad good, two seat pads better" pretty much sums it up, as far as Im concerned, and in a survey of people Ive rowed round Lac Léman with,  100% agree.

3. Shut up and row.

Perhaps this should be rule Number 1 because, whilst the two rules above define WHAT you should do on an expedition row, this is the very epitome of HOW you approach the whole thing. 

Its also the basis of how you should choose your crew mates (never, ever embark on any row  further than about 15km with someone who cant do this, and dont even contemplate more than 5k with such a person if there is a sharp or heavy object in the boat, just in case youre tempted).

Incidentally, I was amused to read on the website of a French womens four called, of course "Rames Dames",  who rowed the Atlantic, that the concept has universal traction: their team slogan was "Tais-toi et rame".

When the going gets tough, just shut up and row.
(Note good observance of Rule 2 here.)

Just in case youre not quite clear why this is so important, perhaps because you are planning an expedition row but havent yet experienced one, Ill try to explain. Much as all of us who get as far as our second expedition row love doing it, expedition rowing isnt the same as going to Disneyland. If it were, everyone would be doing it and you wouldnt get the sense of achievement. As my slightly baffled stepmother commented "You seem to spend a lot of time, cold, wet, tired and in pain". I pointed out that on some rows the weather was nice and warm and it didnt rain, but she was right about the other two.

But when youre tired and in pain, you want to have faith in the rest of your crewmates. When you do, you can safely be determined not to be the weak link and let the others down, which will help you push on. You dont want to know that theyre struggling, and they dont want to know that you are. The last thing they need to be thinking is "Is X going to make it?", "Is Y not pulling any more and am I going to have to work harder as a result?", and definitely not "Why doesnt she shut up?" And, frankly, if you dont talk about it, it isnt so bad.

Telling other people about your (rowing) problems (during an expedition row), is pure selfish indulgence. It wont make the boat go faster or the finish come any sooner. Dont do it. 

Expedition rowing: great to do and
great when it ends too.

Most expedition rowers arent daft, and we can all spot a bit of discreet back stretching whilst the cox is changing over. But the trick is to smile cheerfully at the person behind you as you try and get your spine to click, find something positive to say something like "The waters nice and flat here" or, of course "Fancy a Jelly Baby?", and gloss over the fact that youre wondering whether youll need a crane to life you out of the boat at the end.

And, above all, no one likes a whinger.

4. If its valuable and would sink, tie it on. 
This one clearly isnt in the same league as the first three. But, having had one expedition row disappointingly turn into an unplanned swim, I can promise that it would have been even more frustrating to have lost my camera (waterproof), GPS, and torch, all of which had been tied on and were successfully recovered with the boat.

5. Know how to use your abdominals.
When you back hurts, and it almost certainly will, you can reduce the strain on your back by engaging your abdominals aka "sucking it all in". Its an effort, but nothing like as bad as rowing for another two hours wrapped in lower back agony.

If it helps, engage the services of a Posture Pixie to sit on your shoulder and whisper "Sit up" in your ear at regular intervals.

Posture Pixies and their relatives

For most of us, long distance rowing is demanding on the back. The good news, though, is that help IS available, and I dont just mean taking a couple of 12-hour Neurofen before you start (though I am a strong believer in doing that). There is no need to struggle to sit up, keep your back flat and engage your abdominals on your own.

The Posture Pixie is there to help.

As anyone who has paid attention during Peter Pan or has read Terry Pratchetts Small Gods knows, creatures like the Posture Pixie exist if you believe in them. I called it into being in 2006 when  I was vaguely organising ("coaching" would be to strong a term) a very tall, very thin young man, who generally tried to row as if he were about a foot shorter than he actually was, and I was worried that he as going to do himself some permanent damage if he did that for the full 50km of the Boston Marathon.

Fortunately, he survived, thanks to some great work by a Posture Pixie who sat on his shoulder the whole way, whispering "Sit up, Charlie" at regular intervals. Other members of his quad later voiced concerns that he had developed an ongoing friendship with the Posture Pixie, but he was over 16 by then and it really wasnt my problem.

Posture Pixies are very useful, but
somewhat limited conversationally.

I was asked recently, by the coach of an adult novice squad, where she could buy a supply of Posture Pixies, as her coachlings desperately needed their help. All I can say suggest is that, if the belief route doesnt work for them, I look forward to readers pictures of any that they have a) made out of PlayDoh, icing sugar, or similar substances or b) knitted.

This woman is beyond help from a Posture Pixie.
Her only hope is to scull.

The Magic Rigging Fairy
This is where the belief thing doesnt work. We all WANT there to be a Rigging Fairy, and weve probably all rowed with someone who apparently believes that she exists. But she doesnt. Sadly.

This is what we want the Rigging Fairy to do.
Do you see her in the picture?
No. Because she doesnt exist.