St Catharine's College Boat Club

It is a shame that race reports must be reasonably restrained - what I would like to write would probably result in a stern reprimand, at the very least, from someone somewhere. 

Two row overs had left the third day of Bumps as "D-Day", "our cup final", "our Istanbul". No footballing metaphor (any metaphor in fact), however, suitably captured the enormity of the day of racing that lay ahead of M3. Sidney II lay in wait and with a fast Caius chasing us there was no chance of a row over. Day 3 was to be all or nothing. Despite the danger of being overawed, of choking when it mattered most, the row up suggested that no one was being fazed by the situation - there would be no getting cold feet like some members of the crew (no names here) in Cindies. 

The minutes flew by as we waited on the bank for the chance to write our own piece of history. Four minutes - into the boat. One minute. Go. 

Draw 1. Draw 2. Draw 3. Wind. Lengthen. Stride now. The boat glided through the water, Sidney were reeled in stroke-by-stroke. The first whistle came around First Post corner, soon there were two. Caius were being held, but they did not matter. The call came to kill off Sidney. Up went the rate by 2, and we were greeted by three whistles. Roared on by Hannah and Jack, Sidney's resolve was broken just before Grassy. The bump was secured. The carnage that befell the rest of the division did not matter: M3 had beaten the elements (once again), held off a strong Caius crew, and sent Sidney packing. 

Very well done to the whole crew, most of whom secured their first ever bump. Having rowed home once now adorned with ivy, the boys are itching to give it another crack on Saturday and get a second bump to round off an excellent week's effort. 

This one was tough. We knew Churchill would push us hard with Clare behind them, especially after we gave them more than we should have done yesterday. However, we weren't quite prepared for just how close it was going to be.

Hitting the outflow off our start, we couldn't get the engine to turn over, stuttering down first post reach with only brief flashes of the rhythm we know we could achieve. With the infamous Clare bell ringing loud, Churchill pounced, making a big move through the swell in the gut. Drawing clear of Clare, Churchill's attention turned to their own whistles, rising to a deafening and continuous tone. Sending each stroke through the white noise we attacked Plough reach, sixteen legs smashing down and eight backs swinging through. We were rewarded, the Catz engine had begun to fire once again as Churchill's bow slipped back. From two feet of overlap, we had found clear water and we began to feed off Churchill's doubt, their whistles becoming few and far between.

As we pressed past the railings at 38, Clare bumped a defeated Churchill and we secured the row over. Possibly one of the tightest row overs in bumps history, and it felt good. We've got a job to do tomorrow. Clare will come for us, but let them come, we're not going down without a fight.

M1 awoke to a rose-coloured sky for our morning pre-paddle, the wind having dropped to almost nothing, with only a slight whisper of "SCCBC, SCCBC, SCCBC" in the air. As Basile and Jack rumbled through the door an average of 10 minutes late between them, and Jon began his obscenely long stretching and contact lens ritual, the rest of us felt a strange sense of calmness. Everything was as it should be. Everything was ready.

The morning row reflected our new mindset, the turns felt sharp and the pause felt long (this is a good thing). I was still sending backsplash reminiscent of the tsunamis that followed the eruption of Krakatau backwards over bow six but anyway, that's missing the point, we all (well stern pair at least) felt good and more importantly, we were having fun.

After a hearty breakfast in the bar (attended by stern pair) we all parted agreeing to meet (ON TIME) at 1500 to kick off our Lents campaign. At this point I realised I had completely forgotten to rearrange my chemistry practical, so swiftly commenced a rescue mission to save as many tripos marks as I could before this time. Having saved basically none at all, I arrived at the boathouse at 1500, to find the crew already there (apart from Chris, Chris was late, shame on Chris). Following some questionable music choices (e.g. "Waka-Waka" by Shakira, (metal version), and "Give it Up" by KC & The Sunshine Band) we headed downstairs and, cheered on by a W2 that have now got the same number of bumps in the last two days as I have in my entire life, rowed off down the river. (Well done W2)

bla bla bla... marshalling.... bla bla bla (you get the idea)

And we were off, scything through the water like Stuart through the heart of seemingly every girl on the Spotted: River Cam Facebook page. We hit a strong rhythm at rate 38 and drew within station on Christs, holding Churchill on station. Hitting the wave-tank that is the gut, we lost some send and then slipped further back after following the wide-line around Grassy as instructed by our marshall (Churchill obviously not getting this memo). End result: we had a crew only three-quarters off our stern and Basile was starting to squeak. I've been in crews where that would have been the end of that, but not today. We found our tempo past the Plough and locked it in round Ditton, hardly feeling the gust and sending the boat effortlessly.

At the end of the day we were three lengths up on Churchill, still feeling fresh and ready to have a go at 'Binson tomorrow. Watch this space.

On paper at the start of term M3 seemed destined for mediocrity, on the water even more so. Pembroke Regatta came and went with little to show for it. A loss to Pembroke M3, followed by a calamituos start against Emma M3 in a second race (though apparently we did close them considerably) did little to strike fear into the mass of crews marshalling for the Getting-on Race. Nevertheless, M3 pulled out all the stops to row onto Bumps where they can now really prove their worth.

The first day of Bumps provided much encouragement for a crew comprimised of German post-grads, the odd Hungarian, and a raft of inexperienced freshers. Starting third in the division meant little as Clare M3 bumped King's M2 to clear the way for the mighty SCCBC M3 whose strong start had St Edmund's kept well at bay. Coxed expertly through the corners by Hannah, the boys pushed hard along the Reach into strong winds to hold their place and ensure they did not suffer the same fate as Jesus and St Edmund's who respectively crashed their way into being bumped and overbumped. A row over in such conditions is nothing to be sniffed at. 

With the experience of a row over under their belts, and ever increasing faith in their start, M3 move on to Day 2, itching to give King's a run for their money.

Day 1: Showing the rest how it is done