
This is the inter-college rowing regatta: 150 crews from the 35 different colleges race each other over 4 days, while a vastly greater number come to watch and/or drink. It’s the only event in the English social calendar to combine speed racing with a full-contact combat sport.
The details are way too complicated to explain here, so you can read about them here. Like so many other Oxford institutions, the rules have evolved bit-by-bit since the 1840s, seemingly designed to be utterly impenetrable to outsiders.
Crews race in line 1 1/2 boat-lengths apart, and the goal is to catch up to the boat ahead of you and hit it (hence “bumps” racing). Contact should be light, but this isn’t always possible at ramming speed. When contact has been acknowledged (the losing cox raising a graceful hand in surrender) both boats stop racing, and swap starting positions the next day.



You can see how the fortunes of different crews wax and wane over the decades with this bumps chart. As you can see, Oriel have dominated the event since the 1970s. Cynicism aside, my former crewmate Bruce and I got a kick watching the Oriel 2nd Eight bump up, musing that our fine performances all those years ago had had a direct, albeit distant, influence on the fortunes of the current crew.

It was great to get back to Oriel and find the traditions alive and well. Great for me, that is. Not so much for the luckless undergraduates I found there. They were subjected to a mind-numbing series of dull stories beginning “Back in my day….” How much do you hate the sad, pathetic old timer who won’t let go? Well, that was me.
First stop was the dorm-room (as the Americans would say) traditionally inhabited by the year’s Captain of Boats. In it are accumulated all the blades, trophies and memorabilia of 30 years of Rowing Dominance. The current occupant was absolutely charming, even though he had a vital race in a few hours and vital exams in a few days. He graciously took time to show us around and even more graciously refrained from beaning me with an oar-handle as I launched into yet another tedious anecdote.


FANTASTIC fun. But then someone’s dress caught fire, and the Department of Health and Safety probably concluded, after a long investigation, that having a hundred drunken teenagers jumping in and out of a blazing fire was neither Healthy nor Safe. Go figure.
Instead, I gather, there is a more sedate dinner in our splendid Dining Hall.

If the room, the Hall, or the boat-burning seem familiar, it’s because they appear in the cinematic classic Oxford Blues featuring Rob Lowe as the brash go-it-alone Yank who joins the Oriel Boat Club and learns the importance of teamwork and dating Ally Sheedy. Co-stars include Cary Elwes, Julian Sands, and the guy who played Batman’s butler. And me. I appear. As Myself. Patting Rob Lowe on the back after he has been beaten by Julian Sands in a sculling race. You’ll need a big screen, freeze-frame and a magnifying glass, but you can DEFINITELY make me out. Just.
Ah, the memories. But where, you ask, can I get a drink? In my thirst for knowledge, I checked out three boozers. The Head of the River has OK food, OK beer, and great deck overlooking the finish.



