I asked three of our best modern heavy-weight oarsmen to tell me the reason why they could not scull. The Thames R.C. man said the only reason why he had never won the Diamonds was because he had never gone in for them. This was straightforward, but unconvincing to any one who had watched this gentleman gambolling in a sculling-boat. The Cambridge heavy-weight affirmed solemnly that he could scull, and was at one time very fast. He subsequently admitted that he could never get a boat big enough, and, secondly, his arms always gave. The Oxford heavy-weight replied much to the same purpose, without the preliminary affirmation.

Many men can scull well and slowly, but few can really go fast, and this, I think, is due to the fact that they do not practise enough with faster men than themselves, and so do not learn by experience what action of theirs will best propel a boat at its fastest pace. Nothing is more

deceptive than pace; when a man thinks he is going fastest he is generally going slowest. He gets the idea that he is going fast because his boat is jumping under him, and creating a large amount of side-wash; but an observer from the bank will notice that although the sculls are applying great power, that power is not being applied properly, and his boat will be seen to be up by the head and dragging at the stern, and bouncing up and down instead of travelling.

The first and foremost thing, then, to be attended to for pace is balance, i.e. an even keel, and to obtain this your feet should be very firm in your clogs. As those supplied by the trade are of a very rough and rudimentary character, they will nearly always require padding in different places. You should be able to feel your back-stop just so much that when leaning back well past the perpendicular you can push hard against it with a straight leg. You are then quite firm, and can control your body in the event of your boat rolling. Although when a man has become a waterman he will find the back-stop unnecessary, it is safest for the novice to have it, so as to be able to press against it; otherwise, having nothing to press against at the

finish of his stroke, he may acquire the bad habit of relying entirely on his toes to pull him forward. In such a position he is unstable, and if his boat rolls he has no control over his body.

Having got your balance, the next thing to be thought of is the stroke. Reach forward until the knees touch either armpit; put the sculls in quite square, and take the water firmly (be most careful not to rush or jerk the beginning); at the same time drive with the legs, sending the slide, body and all, back; the loins must be absolutely firm, so that the seat does not get driven away from underneath the body. If you allow the loins to be loose and weak you will acquire that caterpillar action which was to be seen in several aspirants to Diamond Sculls honours last year, and which ruined whatever poor chance they ever possessed. This diabolical habit of driving the slide away, although common to many professionals, cannot be too severely condemned, as it relieves the sculler from doing any work at all except with the arms, which, if thus used, without swing and leg-work to help them, cannot, unless a man is enormously muscular in them, hold out for any great length of time. The firm drive will start the swing of the body,

which may be continued a fraction of time after the slide has finished. You will find that when you have driven your slide back your body will have swung well past the perpendicular (and in sculling you may swing further back than you are allowed to in rowing). When in that position a sculler is allowed to do that which an oarsman must not, viz. he may help to start his recovery by moving his body slightly up to meet his sculls as they finish the stroke. Thus by keeping his weight on the blades in the water as long as possible, instead of in his boat, he strengthens the finish and prevents his boat burying itself by the bows. The stroke from the beginning should go on increasing in strength to the finish, which should be firm and strong, but, like the beginning, not jerked or snapped. Strength applied to the finish keeps a boat travelling in between the strokes.

The finish is by far the hardest part of the stroke, and is most difficult to get clean and smart. The position is naturally a far weaker one than that of the oarsman, as the hands are eight inches or so further back, and at the same time six inches or so clear of the ribs. In this

position nine out of ten scullers fail to get a really quick recovery with the sculls clean out and clear of the water, the hands away like lightning and clear of the knees, and the body at the same time swinging forward. As soon as the hands have cleared the knees they should begin to turn the blade off the feather, so that by the time you are full forward the blades are square and ready to take the water. Professionals recommend staying on the feather until just before the water is taken, but this is apt to make the novice grip his handles tightly, and press on them almost unconsciously when he should be very light. He will thus make his blade fly up and miss the beginning. In order to ensure both hands working perfectly level and taking and leaving the water exactly together, a man should watch his stern, and by the turn given either way he can easily detect which hand is not doing its right amount of work. Which hand you scull over or which under makes little or no difference. Personally, I scull with the right hand under. In holding a scull the thumb should "cap" the handle; this prevents you from pulling your button away from the thowl even the slightest bit, and makes your grip firmer and

steadier. If in steering you must look right round, do so shortly before you are full forward, as soon as the hands have cleared the knees, but generally steer by the stern, if you can, without looking round, and almost unconsciously by what you notice out of the corner of either eye as you pass.