TheBanyanTree: rowing

[Teague, Julie Anna]

"None of them knew the color of the sky. Their eyes glanced level, and 
were fastened upon the waves that swept toward them. These waves were 
of the hue of slate, save for the tops, which were of foaming white, 
and all of the men knew the colors of the sea."

These are the first two lines from Stephen Crane's "The Open Boat".  
Here's how I experienced them this morning.  I signed up to row, as did 
several other people, making us a party of six, which meant a quad 
(four person boat) and a double or two singles.  Beginners are supposed 
to stick to quads.  The quads are more stable and the beginners can be 
in the 2-seat and 3-seat (middle of the boat) with more experienced 
rowers taking bow and stroke positions. The stroke position sets the 
stroke, the bow position looks over his or her shoulder--the rowers 
face the back of the boat--and calls commands for steering and turning.

I carpooled to the lake with my sometimes running buddy, Dave, who is 
also a rower.  When we got there, two of the rowers had already gone 
out in a double, and two didn't show.  So that left us to abandon our 
row or take out a double--a promotion of sorts for me.  I was a bit 
nervous, but Dave is a very experienced rower, so I figured we'd be 
fine.  It was a stunningly beautiful morning.  Dense fog hung in the 
trees all around the edges of the lake.  The lake was just being 
stained pink and purple by the rising sun.  The trees were a heavy blue 
line, like at the edges of mountains.  I could just imagine the Smokies 
rolling up and up just behind the trees.  Of course my beloved Smokey 
Mountains weren't just beyond the trees, hiding in the mist, but they 
were easy to imagine.  The morning and the lake and the trees had a 
mountain look about them.

When I am rowing, being new to the sport, I have to stay focused to 
keep all of the parts of the move working--square, catch, drop, drive, 
slide, feather, arms away, body over.  The whole thing needs to be 
smooth, powerful, and completely in unison with the other rowers. It's 
a beautiful thing, but it takes concentration.  Today, since I as in 
the stern of the boat, I could see a bit more lake and sunrise and 
glinting water than usual and still keep my eyes on what I was doing.  
We stopped to catch our breath for a minute in the middle of the lake 
and I commented on the beauty of the morning.  Dave, as I mentioned, a 
very experienced rower, said that he, too, had to stay pretty focused 
and then quoted Stephen Crane, of the men rowing in the open boat out 
on the ocean, "None of them knew the color of the sky."  In that 
moment, the words were so evocative.  Exactly the feeling, exactly the 
right words to describe the focus on the movement of rowing, the click 
of the squaring of the oars, the shuushing of the slide mechanism.  The 
sky, glowing and smoking and pinking all around is becomes almost 
something you move through, rather than gaze at, while rowing.

I had to rush back and find the book.  I haven't read Stephen Crane 
since high school.  Maybe junior high.  And I'm reading these words 
with a feeling in my soul like I've not experienced for awhile from the 
first paragraph of a book. What beauty and sparseness in those first 
two sentences.  The words popped and sparked in my head.  I could feel 
the in my bones that there was no more perfect way to set that scene 
with all the feeling and atmosphere.

I don't know, I'm raving a little.  But it was all such a wonderful 
experience, all the parts of it together.  I can't wait to get home 
tonight and read.  I can't wait to find myself out on the lake again in 
a rowing shell.

Julie