Several years ago I wrote this article for row2k.com (one of my favorite rowing sites). It has become dated so I’ve added some text and links, since the time of season is right to think about this.

An email arrived from a reader who was all excited about rigging. (Yes, it does happen - some people do get excited about rigging.) He wanted to know what to bring in his launch in case he had to do some quick rigging on the water.

Unfortunately, I was in a hurry so I quickly responded, “Ask a few simple questions before you start your launch, then you’ll know what to bring.” I sent the message and went about my business.

Not satisfied, he wrote back, “Questions, what questions??”

Still in a hurry I shot back “Questions . . . ?” I told him, “You know . . . about stuff. Important stuff.” As soon as I hit the send button I knew that was a lame response.

He called me on it. Two minutes later he sent another request for details.

Trying to do three things at once - and realizing that I was doing none of them well - I took a break and gave the writer the time he deserved. “Okay, seven questions. You need to ask seven specific questions before you pull on the cord to start your motor. Without those questions no rigging is going to happen on the water, and you’re going to get into trouble somewhere along the line. And here are the questions:

• Question #1: Got gas?
• Question #2: Wearing your PFD?
• Question #3: Paddle handy?
• Question #4: What’s the weather?
• Question #5: Who knows where you are going and when you will be back?
• Question #6: Communication device (cell phone, radio) nearby?
• Question #7: Got spare parts?

Continue Reading »

Several years ago I wrote this article for row2k.com (one of my favorite rowing sites). It has become dated so I’ve added some text and links, since the time of season is right to think about this.

I love playing the contrarian. You know, that guy who just has to look at things from an alternate view. Or the person who really needs to go against conventional wisdom.

For instance, everywhere I turn I see people/businesses/coaches promoting “To Do” lists. Those David Letterman-like lists that are supposed to grab your attention and help you do the right thing.

In my email in-box this week I’ve received the following:

• Save money at the gas pump, use this 10-point TO DO List.
• Before your kids start school here are 20 safety things TO DO.
• Hurricane season is coming, use our TO DO list to prepare for emergencies.

Enough! I love the advice, but enough with the “TO DOs.” They can drive a person crazy.

Instead, how about this. Let’s try something from a different angle (said the contrarian). It seems occasion for a “TO DON’T” list. Therefore, I’m presenting to you seven “TO DON’Ts.” Seven things I highly recommend that you DON’T do before the start of the Fall head race season (and resources to help you not do them).

Buckle your seat belt, they’re coming fast.

DON’T Use The Same Rigging Numbers Used In The Sprint Season

Why? As I written about before the leverage used in sprint races should be different (heavier) than that used in head races. Longer races at significantly lower rating and rowed at a time when many rowers are not in strong physical condition dictate that things need to be lighter for rowers.

DON’T Assume That Your Water-Way Has Not Changed

Why? Because somewhere out on your river/lake/creek someone has either

• placed a net across your race course that is sure to catch everything alive (including a Mercury outboard)
• sunk a 40 foot cabin cruiser that lurks just 4 inches below the water and is just looking for a few skegs to join it
• put up a swim platform two hundred meters from the finish line of your course that is so low in the water the chances of a coxswain seeing it are about zero

DON’T Do The Same Workouts Training For Head Races As You Used Training For Sprint Races

Why? Basic physiology and psychology dictate this. Along with the understanding that 2000 meter erg testing in the Fall is about as popular as Brussels sprout ice-cream. Different racing requires different training, especially with athletes who spent the summer (all summer) loving life to the fullest.

Friend Tom Bohrer has posted an article on suggested training for head races that I recommend.

DON’T Think For One Moment That All Of Your Safety Equipment Is Where You Left It And It Is In Good Order

Why? Well for one reason, there is nothing that makes a better “fun box” for a three year old than a first aid kit. For another, it is amazing what a great nest a raccoon can build out of a bag of life jackets. And yet another, launch paddles have a way of sprouting legs, never to be seen again. Unless you put it under lock and key at the end of the Spring season, chances are slim it is where you left it.

DON’T Believe That All Of Your Equipment Is In Good Working Order.

Why? Because:

• Because we are rowers.
• Because we pull hard.
• Because we break things-a lot of things (and have habits of not telling people that, “Opps, I broke that . . . .”).
• Because non-rowers find rowing stuff and like to use it for non-rowing things (”Hey, Butch, this long paddle-thingy will be just great for cleaning your gutters.”)

DON’T Use The Outboard Motor Without Testing It.

Why? For the simple reason that getting two-hundred-meters-downriver-when-the-engine-cuts-out-and-the-second-day-novice-are-rowing-by-a-five-into-a-restored-(and very expensive)-cabin-cruiser-owned-by-the father-in-law-of-your-school’s-president is much more of an Excedrin headache than you really need.

DON’T assume that your rowers remember more than a smidgen of all that great technique you taught them last Spring.

Why?

• Playstation, DDR, Wii,
• Work
• Life
• Batman
• Beer
• ESPN2
• School

and a horde of other brain-cell grabbers that happen in a typical summer.

And finally (an extra bonus TO DON’T)

DON’T eat that donut that you just found under your launch seat from last year’s final practice.

Why? Just trust me. Don’t. Regardless of how hungry you are. Don’t.

I base each of these Don’ts on personal experience. So, now go to the boathouse and don’t do these things. Let me know how they don’t go. And if you’ve got a favorite DON’T before the fall starts, let me know.

Sharing is part of rowing—for example we share the water we row on with many people. Anyone who grew up with brothers or sisters knows that sharing can involve hassles. One of these hassles is who do you turn to when you are having a conflict.

For rowers an area of potential conflict is the wakes generated by other boats. All vessels (including coaching launches!) are responsible for damage that their wake may cause, and wakes can definitely cause damage.

If you have a problem with someone’s wake you basically have two solutions—you solve it or someone else does.

Often the best recourse is to attempt to solve the conflict yourself. Do this by having a conversation with the individual that made the wake—an intelligent conversation—not a yelling match. In most cases drivers of boats don’t realize how fragile a shell is or how much damage their wake can cause. They may not even be aware of what their wake is doing. In these cases a polite and intelligent conversation may get to a resolution quickly.

But unfortunately you may find that the driver’s behavior, or the situation, may make the first solution difficult—then I suggest you take the second recourse (especially if any damage has been caused). The steps here are simple:

• Record as much information about the offending boat as possible (bow number, boat name, description)
• Get a witness (if possible)
• Report the information to the authorities

If the offending boat it is a commercial vessel then you should contact the United States Coast Guard directly. If the boat is privately owned then the information should be reported to your local authorities. Exactly who that authority is will depend on your area—it may be the county sheriff, marine patrol, or Department of Natural Resources. To find out who to report to you may need to make several phone calls.

Surf’s up. Be careful.

Several years ago I wrote an article about how to strap your boat, for Row2k.com. At that time there was a serious discussion about strapping, accidents, and how to prevent them. I stuck my neck out and offered my opinion.

Not everyone liked what I had to say.

As most coaches/rowers/Riggers I try to learn as time goes by, and when I am wrong I will be the first to admit it . . . however, in this case I think that time has shown that my suggestions on strapping a boat are catching on, and hopefully helping.

You can read the entirety of that article, and I stand by the concepts there. However, I want to emphasize a particular method of strapping a boat—that of double-strapping—that I feel I didn’t emphasize strongly enough. Continue Reading »

That may seem like a silly question, but a few simple squirts of bleach can make you, or your team, faster. Here is how . . .On a good day an oar- or erg-handle can have millions upon millions of bacteria living on it, along with a healthy (or unhealthy) smattering of viruses. Typically—not a problem. However, when some of the nastier bugs get into a cut or open blister, and some of the even nastier ones on someones skin (such as staff) a rower can find himself or herself taking some undesired time off. Continue Reading »

Too often the straps we use to secure our rowing shells get abused to the point of revolt. The revolt can range from something small— such as getting all knotted, to something catastrophic—such as fraying or breaking at the worst possible moment.

Straps need TLA—tender loving attention. They don’t need a lot of it, but you have to give them some. If not, you WILL have a revolt. Guaranteed.

The video shows one simple thing you can do to prove to your strap that you love it, and help it be there for you when you need it. I call it the Page Roll. Rob Page was a coxswain of note for our team several years ago and he showed me this simple way to store our straps while at the same time checking them for problems (such as fraying) that could indicate the strap might fail at when you needed it most. (The audio may not work, so I’ve included notes below).

It is a fairly simple process:

Step 1: Unfurl the strap, and look it over for any frayed edges. If you see any the strap needs to be replaced, and DON’T use it. Let me be clear about that. It is a BAD (UNSAFE) strap. Get rid of it (for example . . . give it to an athlete for a belt).

Step 2: Take the end and slide it through the large opening of the cam. This is NOT the opening that the strap goes through to be tightened. Pull strap through about eight inches.

Step 3: Begin rolling the strap from the fold in in that is away from the cam buckle. Gentle, and tightly, roll it until you reach the cam.

Step 4: While holding the cam buckle against the roll, take the end that you put through the cam in step 2 and wrap it around the roll. Then put the end through the slot in the buckle. Gently tighten it up.

The strap will now stay neatly in a roll, ready for action when you are. A great benefit to this method is ease of storing. You can get numerous rolled straps in a small space.

We are all suffering pain at the pump right now. However rowing coaches can suffer a level of pain that most other drivers do not have to endure. This picture above should give you some indication of what I mean.

More boats and rowing equipment are damaged in transit than while in actual use. Although I haven’t seen statistics to back me up on this, I would venture a guess that a significant about of that damage happens while fueling on trips. I have had several coach-friends tell me “bummer” stories about gas station crashes. Continue Reading »

(This post is a reprint of an article I wrote for USRowing magazine, published originally in 1993)

I damaged a rowing shell the other day. Well…damaged isn’t quite the right word—OBLITERATED is a little more appropriate.

This destruction was due to an unplanned gymnastics move the shell, which I now call The Late Shell, decided to perform off of our shell trailer. Unfortunately, at the time, the trailer was doing 55 miles per hour on the back roads of Delaware. I can honestly say that this accident was one of the most unexpected and unpleasant experiences we, both the shell and I, have shared in quite a while.

To the best of my knowledge this is not something that happens very often. My insurance adjuster has convinced me of that. It took half-an-hour to persuade him that “No, I wasn’t calling because I had damaged one of my bookshelves” and, “Yes, as wild as it may sound those big pointy boats do actually get put on trailers and moved around from place to place.” But trailering accidents do happen more often than you might think. According to an insurance friend trailering accidents account for at least thirty percent of all damage done to rowing shells.

So this is what happened on that fateful day in Delaware. Driving along I heard a loud noise from behind. Looking back in my mirror I saw the shell lying on the pavement directly in the middle-of-the-road. Cars were swerving every-which-way; not so much to miss the shell but to dodge the flock of personal-injury attorneys who had stopped and were digging for their cards. (Actually some never did stop, they just folded their cards into airplanes and flew them at me.)

So I pulled over. A rowing shell is certainly not the type of thing you leave lying in the middle-of-the road. I’ve seen people drop bags, suitcases and other assorted stuff off of their vehicles, including a three-foot cactus—and keep on driving—probably unaware of what they just lost. But a shell, now that’s different. If you ever drop a shell off a trailer you’ll certainly know it happened.

Well, almost always…apparently several years ago a rowing trailer was returning from a race in Germany, speedily making its way to the coast of France to catch a ferry across the English Channel. When they reached their port the drivers got out and saw they were missing something. Seems that a certain one of those bright-yellow shells fell off their trailer somewhere along their trip, and they were none the wiser. So they made the old “U-turn” and scoured the countryside looking for their boat. After several days of what must have been agonizing driving they located the shell in a farmer’s field. That was the good news. The bad news was the farmer had gutted the boat, filled it full of grain, and was using it to feed his hogs. He said he thought it was some part of a missile that had dropped from the sky and that he might as well put it to good use.

Now this brings up a major hazard of driving a shell trailer on the highways—some drivers just don’t have any idea what you’re moving. Like the fellow who wandered up to me in a gas station in Georgia as I was filling up the truck. He said, “My wife and I are having a little argument. I say that those things on your trailer are helicopter blades. She says I’m nuts. She says they are some sort of garden sculpture. We bet dinner on it—what do you say?” Drivers like these often get distracted looking at the boats and tend not to maintain a safe distance. Of course there are the other extreme of drivers who think you’re transporting some top-secret, destructo-weapon and go to dangerous lengths to avoid you.

Well, back to Delaware. While I was standing smack-dab in the middle of the road (staring at what used to be a happy rowing shell) one of the attorneys flings me his card. “Well, couldn’t get much worse, could it? But if by chance it does get worse give me a call,” he says as he heads to his car to go hunt for bigger game.

It wasn’t until later that I had a chance to think about his comment. Boy, was he wrong—it certainly could have been much worse. Forty-five feet of shell, launched from a trailer at 55 m.p.h. is a force to contend with. Minutes before I was driving on I-95, which in Delaware is about as busy as an ice-cream truck on a one-hundred-degree summer day. If The Late Shell had flown off then it could have been a major catastrophe. Yeah, I was very fortunately there were no injuries, except of course for my bruised ego.

What caused The Late Shell to go flying off of our trailer is still a mystery. The trailer was brand new and so were the straps (tie-downs)—and they were checked and double-checked. The only thing I did not do, and which I usually do, is to stop about twenty miles into the drive and recheck the straps. On long trips I also stop every 100 miles to recheck everything. It makes for a longer drive but then there is usually someone at the rest stop who is happy to wander up and ask, “Hey, what’s on that trailer—a carnival ride?”

The best I can figure is the shell was most likely tied too close to the edge of the rack and the straps were not tight enough. Ahhh—human error—the prime cause of trailering accidents. The road was very bumpy and during the drive there was a horrendously-stiff cross breeze pushing against the shell. All these things probably combined to shove the shell off the trailer.

And the aftermath? Well, we’ve made a couple improvements to the trailer. We now put an extra strap over the front end of all boats which goes around the vertical supports of the rack as well as under the rack itself. Oh…we also got a nice check from the insurance company to replace our bookshelf.

I had almost forgotten about this whole episode until last week when I got a phone call. “Hey, are you that trailer driver? The same driver who destroyed a shell on the highway? You may not remember me but I was one of the sympathetic and helpful bystanders at the accident. Yes…that’s right…one of the guys who gave you a card. Yes…the attorney. Hey, did it turn out anyone was hurt? No, gee that’s too bad…but what about you, you sound rather tired…you know it could be Post-Traumatic-Shell-Destruction Syndrome. Nasty stuff. You may need an attorney…wait…don’t hang u…CLICK…”