By the time I had taken a good look at both crews, the arrangements had all been made, and the two boats had been brought by their coxswains up to a line stretched across the river, and the crews now lay in their boats, with bodies bent forward, their faces set, their oars grasped with energy, the coxswains with the ropes in both hands, and the stroke of each boat having his oar blade poised a few feet above the water.
Walter Brown held the nose of the Harvard boat, and John Phelps, a rugged looking Thames waterman, had his grip fastened on the Oxford boat, waiting for the word to go. Loring's eyes are blazing with unwonted fire; Darbishire seems confident and easy, with his ears dilated like a pointer, and a death-like silence reigns all over that swarming river—just now the noise was deafening; the Americans have ceased to drink any more brandy and soda; Tom Hughes looks up the river to see if all is clear; Mr. Lord, of the Thames Conservancy, reports all clear—and the bulky figure of Blakey, the starter of the race, is seen to ascend the paddle-box of the Lotus steamer, and his voice rings over the water, and is heard with a thrill, for the decisive moment has come at last.
"I shall ask," says Blakey, "are you Ready—are you Ready, and if you do not stop me I shall give the word Go, after which God speed you both."
"Are you ready?"
"No!" shouts Darbishire.
"Are you ready?"
"No!" again, distinct and clear, from Darbishire.
"Are you Ready?" No answer this time from either crew.
"GO!"
A hundred thousand throats, as if made of cast-iron, bellow forth: a hundred thousand eyes are dazzled for a moment as the diamond drops fall from the upraised blue blades of Oxford and the white blades of Harvard. Walter Brown executes a war dance in an instant after he has sent the Harvard shell a full length on its way. The 'Rah, 'Rah, 'Rah, of Harvard pierces the air; the masses on the banks of the river begin to show incipient symptoms of madness. Both boats are off, Harvard pulling like demons, and Oxford has just got into her careless, easy swing, pumping away like machines. The two steamers start on a helter-skelter race, and the greatest boat race the world ever saw has just begun for better or for worse.