Rhubarb

44 St Edward’s r h u b a r b

My Experience at Henley Royal Regatta

Tristan Mackie (C, 2012-2014)

The Final on the Sunday was unforgettable. Our coach Jonny Singfield gave us a talk that has stuck with me to this day. Whilst boating we didn’t talk much as we were already in racing mode, we all had stern faces on and were pumped to go and take down Eton College. Being finalists, we were honoured to row down the racing course to the start line. We received so many cheers and cries of support from our families, friends and strangers that seemed to increase our will to crush the opposition. On the start line I was calmer, probably because I had already been in that position four times prior, patiently waiting for the Umpire’s launch to arrive. Our eyes were entirely in our boat and we were focused. The Umpire arrived, the flag came down and the race began. At this point the adrenaline kicked in and it was overwhelming, it made me feel vicious and fierce toward our adversary. We came out of the blocks shifting masses of water and began to pull ahead; eventually we secured a little bit of clear water. However, half way down the course they started to come back at us. I was hoping that we would be able to hold them off until the line, but sadly this was not to be. In the last 500m they pushed through, I can safely say that I had never experienced as much pain as I did in that last quarter of the race. I had the impression that all my joints were about to rip apart. All I wanted was the race to end, but the esprit de corps was what kept me going. I buckled down and kept pulling as hard as I could so as to not let my crew members down. Sadly, we crossed the line exhausted and defeated; it was however a great race. Demoralised after the Final I think we came together the most as a crew, hugging and supporting one another and of course heavily relying on emotional support from our families, friends and coach. The St Edward’s crew arrived in Henley as a band of good friends who shared a passion for a sport they loved, but left Henley a band of brothers who shared an experience that will stick with them forever. Finally, even knowing the outcome of the Final, I for one would race in that crew all over again, any day of the week.

signalling the start of the race, and we were more than ready to go. After the first stroke all the adrenaline seemed to disappear and my mind cleared, all I thought about was pulling as hard as humanly possible and keeping our bows in front. We leaped out of the blocks and before long we had secured a safe boat length. Six minutes later we crossed the line victorious, and very out of breath! It had been one hell of a first day and a serious eye-opener. We were lucky enough to be lodged by the very generous Innes family, who cooked very large delicious meals and made us feel quite at home. The next three races against KCS, Radley and Hampton, seemed to follow this trend of rushing adrenaline on the start line and clear-headedness in the race. Somehow as the days went on we became closer as a crew. Our racing also improved, and we each pulled harder and did everything we could to support one another. We seemed to pay more and more attention to our cox, Hugo Marsh, relying on his every command to secure victory. We trusted one another entirely and knew that none of us would hold back, and each one of us would give it their all on the water. This mentality formed a strong bond in the crew, an esprit de corps that has remained with me.

Henley was without a shadow of a doubt the best week of my school years, and one of the best weeks of my life. I thought I knew what to expect when arriving in the town; it was bustling with activity and my fellow crewmembers and I were glued to the van windows. I was lucky enough to be in a crew with very experienced oarsmen, some of whom had taken part in the event before, and who instilled a certain amount of confidence in the lesser- experienced oarsmen such as myself. My Captain, Oli Knight (B, 2012-2014) had told me countless times that Henley was the highlight of a rower’s year, and he was right. However, no amount of description and chatting could have prepared me for the memorable experiences I was about to have. The first day was (in my eyes) the longest - rowing down to the start line blew my mind. Every direction I looked, people swarmed the banks. I had never attended a regatta with such a large gathering of spectators. Our first race was against St Paul’s School, known to be a tough crew to beat, so we went into the race determined to make a big start. We lined up on the start and my hands began to shake uncontrollably; all I wanted was to start pulling my blade. I had never experienced such a powerful rush of adrenaline. The Umpire’s flag dropped

V a l e t e m a r t y r s

Tristan Mackie, second from the left with the crew at Henley Regatta