Saturday Morning Skiffing

A skiff is a four person row boat of a design called the St Ayle's skiff - something I had not come across before we moved to the Glen. It was something I tried to encourage John to do but it was never a good time - he was always too tired, or he had his chemo pump attached or we were away. But I went to try it one weekend earlier this year at their taster day, and really enjoyed it.

It is mostly ladies and they're all lovely - such a diverse group of people from all over the UK, some local all their lives and some moved here at various times. There is a farmer's wife, a gardener, an executive, a doctor, a bailiff, a magistrate, but above all they're all kind, funny interesting and fabulous bakers, and they work as a team on the skiff under the direction of whoever is coxing us from the stern. The Col-Glen skiff is named St Modan, after the son of an Irish chieftain who allegedly lived in Glendaruel as a hermit in the 6th century.

We usually go out at 10am on a Saturday for two hours, but the group is flexible if needed. We can row with four plus a cox, but we can get seven or even eight in the boat by sitting two per seat and one in the bow. We row depending on the tide and wind speeds, swapping rowers so every one gets a turn. We generally head for a nice bay somewhere in the Kyles to pull the boat out for a coffee and cake break at half time.

The Kyles get very busy with yachts of all sizes and types. One weekend we saw the police boat patrolling the waters. Now that the weather is warmer we even get a quick swim in at the same time (dodging the jellyfish!) as about half of us are avid swimmers - some fairer-weather than others. The summer also attracts more rowers and sometimes we have to do two trips to give everyone a turn. A solution one week was for a chap with a motorboat to give half of a lift to the halfway point in time for cake and then to sail the first batch of rowers back home whilst the second shift took their turn on the oars.

We sometimes see seals and even common dolphins.

In August we held a regatta. There were races for men, ladies, mixed and veterans, and five clubs taking part. We are the ColGlen team and joining us were Tighnabruaich, Bute, Royal Gourock and Strachur. The boats looked wonderful lined up at the shore and the smell of burgers wafted down the beach whilst we all psyched ourselves up for the event. The mixed teams went first and Royal Gourock smashed it, whilst we came in third. The men's teams followed the same pattern. We were lacking on the training front this year, with no chance for the men to practice as a team before the big day, but we were also at a disadvantage in that two of the men had just rowed in the mixed boat just ten minutes before so were already tired.

Next up were the ladies and we took our places, having made a last miinute swap between positions 2 and 3 due to two of the ladies also having rowed in the mixed race earlier. That meant Joan remained as our cox, Elisha setting the pace as stroke, me switching to bow side 3 and Nikki to stroke side 2 with Bridgid remaining in the bow. So myself and Nikki would be taking opposite sides to our training positions to even out the pull on the oars (with me hopefully giving it more welly as I had not yet raced).

The race consists of 500m from the start line to a buoy, round the buoy and then 500m back to the start line. You row like your life depends on it, keeping the oars in time and the stroke long and even then, when we reach the buoy, the stroke side dig their oars in like a handbrake turn, trying not to get swept backwards off their seats by the force of the water (or collide with the buoy), whilst bow side (my side) row like billy-o to bring the boat round, and then stroke side drop in to match our rhythm for the homeward stretch. Joan gets very excited and keeps up the encouragement with regular positive shouts while also handling the rudder and keeping us on course, whilst we all feel like our lungs are about to explode and we are gradually suffocating through not being able to get enough air in and our arms burn with the effort of 6 minutes of hard rowing. But, man, it felt so good to see all the other boats behind us as we began the homeward stretch and the exhausted elation of the team as we crossed the finish line in first place was unbeatable.

The ColGlen vets won their race too and I think we all did ourselves proud considering just how little training we had done (about 30 minutes for each person in the week before the races!) Rowing over, we all hit the burger and cake stand and filled up on tea and coffee, safe in the knowledge that we were no longer in danger of throwing up either through nerves or exertion.

Technically, Royal Gourock were the winners with 14 points overall, whereas we only had 12 points. It's 5 points for a first, 3 for second and 1 for third. But the trophy, a lovely little model skiff, has to stay locally as it was donated by the local teams, so it was awarded to ColGlen anyway and will return to it's position in the Colintraive pub over the road from the boathouse. Goals for next year are more training and team hoodies, and maybe viking helmets....