The position of captain of a club, whether rowing, cricket, or athletics, is a very useful school for any young man, if he uses his opportunity aright. It teaches him to be self-reliant; to avoid vacillation on the one hand and obstinacy on the other; to exercise tact and forbearance, and to set a good example on his own part of observance of standing orders. All these lessons serve him well in after-life. No man is the worse, when fighting the battle of the world, for having learnt both how to obey orders implicitly and also how to govern others with firmness and tact. He will look back to many a decision which he came to, and will perhaps be able to console himself by reflecting that at the time he acted according to the best of his lights; but none the less he will perceive that he was then in error, and that as he sees more of aquatics, or of any other branch of sport, he finds that he is only beginning to learn the best of it when the time comes for him to take his departure from the scene of actual conflict. If he will apply the analogy to his career in life, whatever that may be, he will prosper therein all the more by reason of the practical lessons which he gained when his arena was purely athletic.


BISHAM COURT REACH.

CHAPTER VI.

THE COXSWAIN AND STEERING.

The ‘cock-swain’ wins his place chiefly on account of his weight, provided that he can show a reasonable amount of nerve and skill of hand. A coxswain is seldom a very practical oarsman, although there have been special exceptions to this rule, e.g. in the case of T. H. Marshall, of Exeter, Arthur Shadwell, of Oriel, and a few others. But if he has been any length of time at his trade he very soon picks up a very considerable theoretical knowledge of what rowing should be, and is able to do very signal service in the matter of instructing the men whom he pilots. When a youth begins to handle the rudder-lines there is often some considerable difficulty in inducing him to open his mouth to give orders of any sort. Even such biddings as to tell one side of oars to hold her, or another to row or to back-water, come at first falteringly from his lips. It is but natural that he should feel his own physical inferiority to the men whom he is for the moment required to order about so peremptorily, and diffidence at first tends to make him dumb. But he soon picks up his rôle when he listens to the audacious orders and objurgations of rival pilots, and he is pleased to find that the qualities of what he might modestly consider to be impudence and arrogance are the very things which are most required of him, and for the display of which he earns commendation.

Having once found his tongue, he soon learns to use it. When there is a coach in attendance upon the crew, the pilot is not called upon to animadvert on any failings of oarsmen; but when the coach is absent the coxswain is bound to say something, and, if he has his wits about him, he soon picks up enough to make his remarks more or less to the purpose. The easiest detail on which he offers an opinion is that of time of oars. At first he feels guilty of ‘cheek’ in singing out to some oarsman of good standing that he is out of time. He feels as if he should hardly be surprised at a retort not to attempt to teach his grandmother; but, on the contrary, the admonition is meekly accepted, and the pilot begins at once to gain confidence in himself. Daily he picks up more and more theoretical knowledge; he notes what a coach may say of this or that man’s faults, and he soon begins to see when certain admonitions are required. At least he can play the parrot, and can echo the coach’s remarks when the mentor is absent, and before long he will have picked up enough to be able to discern when such a reproof is relevant and when it is not. In his spare time he often paddles a boat about on his own account, and this practice materially assists him in understanding the doctrines which he has to preach. As a rule, coxswains row in very good form, when they row at all; and before their career closes many of them, though they have never rowed in a race, can teach much more of the science of oarsmanship than many a winning oar of a University race or of a Grand Challenge Cup contest.