Danny Boy

O Danny boy, the waves the waves are calling
From crest to crest, down the waves we slide
The summer’s gone and all the races falling
‘Tis you, ‘tis you must go out with the tide

The JCR, Jamestown Counter Revolution was supposed to take place down in Narragansett Bay, halfway, counterclockwise around Jamestown Island (properly called Conanicut I believe)

“You say you want a revolution, well….”

There was another counter revolution going on in the Atlantic by name of Tropical Storm Danny. Dan Gorriaran, race director found some amusement in that name. The predicted high winds and ocean swells for the bay caused the race directors, with considerable pressure from the Coast Guard, to move the regatta 30 miles north to Providence.

It speaks highly of Dan G and the Narragansett Boat Club that they were able to change the race venue with 24 hour notice and still pull off one of the best and most organized regattas I have been to. It also speaks well of the participants who adapted quickly to the change. Five mile race morning drives became 35 drives. Hotel rooms were canceled, last minute reservations found closer to Providence. New directions and maps were printed out.

“When you’re lost in the rain in Seekonk, and its racing time too…”

I was looking forward to a quick 6 mile drive from Seekonk, MA over to the NBC in Providence. I had directions and maps. The morning was dark and raining. A few more street signs in Seekoonk would be helpful for us out of towners. I stopped and asked someone directions. I still couldn’t find any N Broadway. I spotted a car behind me with a boat on top. I’m thinking, don’t follow me, I’m lost too. I got out of the car and met Evan Cutler. A pedestrian was walking by. We got better directions. The clock showed 6:15. Registration was supposed to be 6-06:30 am. When I spotted the Duncan Donuts and the taxi, I pulled in quickly. I thought I was on track, but I got out and asked the taxi driver.

“I’m going that way, follow me”- -hug a cab driver today!

We got over the Henderson Bridge. I could see the boat house, we got there!

The North American Open Water Championship. That’s’ what this race was this year. Since 2006 there has been an open water championship race, largely started by Steve Green from Evergreen Rowing and Doug Kidder from Maas boats. Doug participated this year and won first place—for 1x Outriggers! I fondly remember Doug lending me his own Maas 24 when I went out to Seattle in 2006 for the inaugural NAOWCR. Every year now they switch the race back and forth from west to east coast.

I believe this year’s race had the strongest field ever assembled in North America for open water rowers. I don’t think there have ever been as many Peinert Dolphins assembled in one place. The arrival of Danny Boy turned it into a flatwater 10.4 mile drag race. Down the Seekonk to the “Snow Cone”- a concrete navigational aide looking like an upside down snow cone. And then back to NBC. I lost track of how many bridges we went under- twice. Head of the Charles you got nothing on us in the bridge dept.

“Bill, we are not gonna be at the head of this pack” I said to my rowing buddy Bill

“I know, we should line up behind Dan G or somebody”

I figured Dan would clear the way for us. At the start we had 19 over 21 ft sliding seat shells lined up. The river was plenty wide at the start. “A lot more room then the Essex River Race” I later told someone.

It was a fast start. My 32 -30 spm quickly earned me a place at the back of the pack. What were those guys stroking at I wonder- 35-40 spm?

Well I wasn’t up to that pace. We have ten miles to go. I can’t do that at a sprint. Going through the first bridge was me, Bill and one other boat. We were all making course corrections to get through. An official from the safety launch stating yelling something about “don’t hit the pilings-” Whenever I hear anyone yell my first reaction is collision danger. I turn and look, miss a stroke. It looked like clear water to me. Then the other rower changed his course further to starboard, in front of me. . I think he freaked at “don’t hit the pilings” like there was some hidden danger somewhere. There wasn’t. I had to slow it down. Bill got a few strokes ahead of me at the first bridge.

No sliding down waves from Danny Boy today. Just flat water, flat out oar pullin’ leg drivin’ goodness. The water was calm the whole race. There were only about two boats wakes. Bad weather predictions can be good for regattas. It keeps the pleasure boat traffic down. The 3 of us stayed pretty close for a while. Soon I could see two boats catching up to us. I knew they were the fast women scullers. Dianne Davis I knew would be one of those. Bill was ahead to my starboard for a while. I spotted the snow cone off to port a little bit. Dianne and the second woman were off course here. Bill and I were in a better position. And I had the better line. I pulled ahead of Bill to the snow cone. I am forgetting where the 3rd in our group was, behind or ahead. I get around the snow cone in front, but now, somehow Bill had the better line to the official’s boat, 100 meters away which is turn point two. Dianne had gotten back on course and was once again closing ground, or I should say water.

I like using a heart monitor in races. It gives me a good idea of whether I am pushing hard enough, or too hard. My monitor wasn’t working for me this day. I also like have the speed coach to give me speed through the water. This helps with pace. Sometimes I will find I can settle into a 24 spm rate with a good leg drive and good reach at the catch and be better off than a sloppier 26 spm. My speed coach decided not to work that day. I like racing with a GPS course plugged in. I have a nice GPS course plugged in for the Jamestown Race, not much use in Providence. I set my GPS to the dock at NBC. I would be able to monitor the distance to and from, the finish.

At one point, after getting back under a few bridges, a woman from shore yells “You’re almost there, just around the next corner”

Almost there I am thinking, should I start to sprint- to empty the tank? I look at my GPS. I have 1.1 miles to go. I’ll wait a while before I empty the tank. Glad to have the GPS. But I’ve gotten ahead of myself in the story-

Bill is ahead to port somewhere. One of the women is catching up to me. The women started 2 minutes later, so she is already ahead time wise. I concentrate on good rowing. A good catch, solid leg drive and good deep breaths. I had an inhaler, ibuprofen; I meant to use that morning. I get some asthma symptoms sometimes, especially with the late summer/early fall allergens and also from “stress asthma” from working (rowing) too hard without a full warm up. In the rush of the morning the inhaler was forgotten. With the rain cutting down pollen and with a reasonable warm up, I didn’t really miss the inhaler. I did miss my morning cup of tea and Odwalla bar. The Odwalla didn’t make its way into the car when I packed. Why would a hotel give you a microwave and nothing to even heat water up in. I thought I was prepared; I had brought my own tea bags with me.

So it must have been the hotels fault. First Dianne passed me. Then the next woman passed me, because of the Odwalla bar, no doubt.

I was feeling OK at this point. I thought I could pick up the pace some. I wish I had my HR monitor working. Some days the brain feels up to more intensity (pain) than other days. That can be mood related or just “how bad do you want it”. The HR gives you a known quantity. If my HR is under 160, I know there is something left, even if my brain is telling me “heh man, what’s your hurry, be cool, why push yourself sooo hard?” I had only my brain to rely on that day.

I had been in to see my chiropractor Friday before I left for Providence. He was frowning and looking puzzled at one point.

“The nervous system just isn’t working quite right. Maybe you are dehydrated or your electrolytes are too low.” he said

So it can be tough when you have to rely on just your brain. I was passing a fixed seat double. A few fixed seaters including a whaleboat had started 20 minutes ahead of the rest of us. The whaleboat was ahead and Bill ahead of them somewhere. Bill had valiantly tried to keep “the girls” from passing him, but there was no holding back these fast women. This put Bill a further distance ahead of me, wondering if he just used up his reserves. I was thinking I had a shot at pulling ahead still. About 4 mile to go.

I was looking around, trying to figure out my course. Up ahead a mile was where the harbor narrowed down. It looked like that blue arched bridge ahead was what to aim for. I rowed for a minute or two in that direction. That was where the double was headed. I kept turning around and saw the other rowers going to starboard. I was not headed at the right bridge I realize! Hard on port, I pull my boat around.

“You guys want to turn” I yell back to the fixed seaters. (You guys owe a favor to a sliding seater now)

I can see a straight course to the correct bridge now. There is an island ahead of me, more of a little hammock with some grass and scrub growth on top. The hummock (I decided to say it different this time) is on the wrong side of a red nun. Looks like good water the brain is telling me. “Straight shot there go for it.” Crunch, grind, scrap, stop. The bow goes up while I stop rowing and look down at a gravel bar made of cobble size and larger stones. Thanks brain, fine mess you have gotten us into. Couldn’t it have been a nice sandbar, like that race in Lake George 5 years ago? I couldn’t back off with the oars. I had to take my feet out of the shoes on the footstretcher and hop out, straddling the boat and waddle it back a few feet. I repeated this maneuver several times before I was able to back off; I got my feet back in the shoes, and proceed on the proper side of the red can. At The captains meeting it was mentioned which side of the red cans you might want to be on and the phrase “at your own risk was used.

After that nice rest I felt energized and was able to pick up the pace. Passed the whaleboat. I refrained from any pleasantries, wisecracks or jokes. I was thinking about saying something about whether it was customary to throw the steersman in the water like they do coxswains sometimes.

I got to the woman who said encouragingly “you are almost there” Like I said, glad I had my GPS. About this time there was a kayaker gaining on me. Well I am ready to pick it up, should be able to stay ahead of him I thought. He was getting close enough I could see the smooth efficiency of his paddling. The double ended kayak paddle was spinning like a windmill, but smooth. I was impressed at how this guy didn’t look like he was actually working very hard in this race, he was that smooth. Guess that uses up my word quota for smooth on just one guy. Who was that masked man? (Sorry, you youngins’ will just have to miss that reference)

I started rowing harder, forgetting the kayaker. I could see the NBC and the finish. I don’t know how this guy did it, or if it started looking like he was making a big effort, but he did pass me.

Always nice to get to the finish. Bill helped me carry up my boat. I think it was raining .Funny how while you are rowing you don’t notice a little rain.

It was particularly fun after the race to socialize with our west coast friends who came out for the race. One thing I noticed was how many of the rowers I talked to, west and east coasters ran or helped run regattas. Like Ellen Braithwaite and her husband, (or friend maybe). Dan (last name?) from out west and Doug Kidder. And from “these parts” Dan Gorriaran, Rich Klanjcek, Bill Pritchet, Ray Panek, me, Bill Russell and I am sure many others.

I will have something to add when I see the results. One impression I have to share is how amazing it was to see the very fast and strong competitors who did not make it to the medal circle. To be in a race without Dan G getting a medal is hard to believe. Tim Willsallen, Rich Klanjscek, Ray Panek, Jeff Nelson –not a medal. What a field, unbelievable.

“I got smoked” was Ray’s comment.

“I don’t think I have ever been dead last” was what Kinley Gregg had to say. It wasn’t just the men that had a top field of competitors. Kinley and I might start a DFL club now.

From the very back of the pack, I have to say that I rowed hard and though it wasn’t my best race, I wasn’t out for a picnic either. Believe me when I say there was still racing going on at the back of that pack. This is Bill Russell’s spin on it, after he thought about writing a story on the event

-“It would be like writing a story about a long head race, not very open water. I must say that I have never rowed 27-32 for over an hour; my average was around 29, way faster than any open water race. I think my river rowing paid off on this one”

I guess Bill out stroked me on this one. Next duel will be the “L2L”

Congrats to Bob Meenk, first place from Seattle way. I met him in 2006 and if I say he is a great guy, I think that pretty much goes for all the open water people. Congrats to Dianne Davis for 1st place, again. Dianne and I have a common online rowing/fitness coach, Marlene Royle.

“Most of the friends you meet in life are people you meet through your passions” Granny D.

The “passion” for open water rowing (and paddling) has made for many friendships.

So I came home, member of new DFL club, but happy to have been there in 2009. Plus I have a neat stainless water bottle that says JCR, Jamestown Counter Revolution. And I have a new red t-shirt with a picture of a guy many thought was Che Guevara, but turns out to be a Cuban Revolutionary named Camilo Cienfuegos Gorriaran. Running revolutions seems to be a common thread here.

Long Live Open Water
Wayne Lysobey