The coxswain should pick up information relating to his course by observation, inquiries, and in every way he can, and, previous to a race, he should take careful stock of the direction and force of the wind, and shape his course accordingly. It is a good plan to be taken over the course either in a row-boat or launch, by some one acquainted with it, for the purposes of instruction. He can gain a general idea of the Putney to Mortlake course by watching the barges which float up and down the river with the tide, and are kept in mid-stream by long sweeps. But every coxswain should learn to scull; he can then not only get his weight down by exercise, if required, but familiarize himself with the set of the stream, flats, and other peculiarities of a course by actual experience. Training for the purpose of reducing the weight of the coxswain is a questionable
expedient; but if practised with moderation, and if natural means are employed, the object, if worth it—which I very much doubt—may be attained, and little harm done; but weakness, the result of excessive wasting, is not unfrequently accompanied with an impaired judgment and loss of nerve, the absence of which may lead to serious consequences. Moreover, a coxswain not only requires a certain amount of physical strength to manage a boat of the length of an eight-oar, but, to do himself justice, should come to the post feeling full of energy and determination. In level races the coxswain of the leading boat should never take his opponents' water, unless reasonably certain that he cannot be overtaken, for a sudden sheer out involving loss of pace and ground at a critical time has before now lost a race; and when alongside, and in close proximity, he should avoid watching the other boat, otherwise he will in all probability steer into it, such is the apparent force of attraction exercised over a coxswain by the opposing crew. One coxswain should not "bore" the other. Boring is the act of one coxswain steering closer and closer to another until he gradually succeeds in pushing him out of his own
water. This cannot take place when both coxswains engaged are equally skilful, and equally well acquainted with the course, for neither will give way. At the best it is not sportsmanlike, and there is no desire on the part of the majority of rowing men to win a race by the trickery of the coxswains. At the annual University Boat Race Dinner, when the old Blues and other friends assemble to do honour to the two crews, it is the time-honoured custom to drink the health of the coxswains. On one of these occasions, a well-known Oxford coxswain, who, in the fog that prevailed at the start of the race, had been pressed out of his course by the opposing crew, in returning thanks made a witty allusion to the subject in these words: "I have been," he said, "very much interested in this race, but I have also been very much bored." It was a speech meant for the occasion, and was received with the applause it deserved; but it was not meant seriously, nor was it taken so by his equally well-known Cambridge rival.
I may at this point give a word of advice to a coxswain in a Bumping Race. He should, throughout the race, keep his true course, and not
follow any vagaries of the boat in front of him, except with the immediate object of making his bump; he must never shoot for his bump when going round a corner, and ought always to make sure of his position before making a shot, so as not to waste the energy of his men by missing time after time, and zigzagging across the river. When he has been bumped, or has made a bump, he should at once clear out of the way to make room for the boats following. In all races he should encourage his crew at intervals with such expressions as, "Now, you fellows! Well rowed! On to it!" etc. But an incessant flow of language not only sounds ridiculous, but must be a nuisance to the crew themselves. In a ding-dong race, however, when neither crew can get away from the other, he will naturally urge them more strenuously to further exertions. He should watch the time as carefully as in practice, and call upon his crew to "Reach out," or "Keep it long," if he notices that they are getting short and scratchy; and he may quietly keep the stroke posted up in the doings of the opponents, telling him how they are rowing, how far ahead they are, and so on. In training quarters, especially if the crew are
despondent, the more depressed they are, the more he should endeavour to cheer them up and inspire confidence in them.
Finally, let me advise coxswains when steering to wear warm and waterproof clothing in cold and wet weather, and thus possibly save themselves much suffering from rheumatism and other complaints in after-life.