It started out as a quiet morning on the river. We arrived at the boat house in the usual pre-dawn light and did our first track up and down the Isis. The boat wasn’t particularly sat and the focus could have been better, but it seemed like just another outing. And then suddenly the cox began shouting at other crew and we turned around to see a men’s eight boat bearing down on us. Within moments they were upon us and the rhythmic sounds of the river were pierced by the carbon-fiber hulls grinding against each other and the clank of eight oars suddenly interlocking in a tangle jumble of water and wood. Such was our introduction to the Magdalen College men’s second boat.
The Isis isn’t a particularly wide river, but there’s usually room for at least two crews to row abreast of each other. Most mornings a dozen or so boats circle it’s length in tidy little lanes. (They row on the right side of the river here, but drive on the left. No telling why.) We were headed down the left side of the river towards Boathouse Island and Magdalen was coming up the other. They must have been trying to pass another boat going in the same direction and as far as we can tell their cox simply neglected to check the oncoming traffic before swerving out into the other lane to pass. Our cox saw them surging towards us and hollered at them to stop but they all took another couple of strokes before they realized what was happening. Then it was too late. Neither boat was as race rates but they were moving at a pretty good clip through the water- even a gentle paddle is about 15km an hour and a fully loaded boat weighs close to a ton. Their bow rammed into our stroke side mid-boat and scrapped alongside our hull for several meters. The oars went flying everywhere, protruding into the boats and the crews were trying to duck or catch the blades before they plowed into chests. The rower sitting in the bow position of the Magdalen boat was practically unseated by the impact and scurried forward to get out of the way. But he lost balance and ended up slipping and nearly fell back-side first into the river. He managed to catch onto an oar and use it to hold himself up, but I think he still ended up sitting a few inches into the water. Mind you, the temperature has been below freezing, and while the river hasn’t frozen over, everything that gets wet does. So he would have had a rude introduction to hypothermia. Not to mention the safety risks in a collision. Rowers have been paralyzed when the bow of a boat has plowed into their back so it was no laughing matter, despite what the Magdalen crew seemed to think.
Our immediate assessment showed that neither of the boats was damaged to the verge of capsizing but we wouldn’t know the extent of the damage until we pulled them out of the water. It took several minutes for all the limbs and oars to get untangled. After finally extricating ourselves we went on to finish the outing, but it quickly became clear that one of the riggers had been knocked out of alignment. When we finally met our coach at the boathouse to assess the damage he was furious. The hull was largely unharmed. We lost a bit of paint but I guess scars probably give a boat character. But the rigger was another story- it was now bent at entirely the wrong angle and would need to be heated and bent back into place or entirely replaced. The riggers are custom made for the boat and probably cost a couple hundred pounds. The boat is probably insured against for a crash that totals it but not for minor repairs. We ended up fixing it but had to miss the outing next day. And now I think we all regard the other boats with a bit more apprehension. Apparently rowing is a contact sport after all.
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