University of Virginia Library

Eilades, Oarsmen Expecting Winning Year

By Randy Wert
Cavalier Daily Staff Writer

Unbeknownst to much of Mr.
Jefferson's University, there is a
bunch of hearty sailor-types who,
every afternoon, venture out into
Albemarle County to paddle
around Rivanna Reservoir in boats
that look like straws on the surface
of the water.

These young-looking mariners
comprise the University Rowing
Association, and under the
guidance of learned coach Panos
Eliades, they have spent all winter
preparing for a battery of regattas
this spring which will test their
nautical abilities. A former member
of the Greek National Crew, Eliades
has imparted much of his vast
knowledge to his charges to make
them one of the finest outfits in the
South, and maybe in the nation, in
the four short years since the
conception of the Association.

Rowing, in this sense, is not the
same as the lazy summer rowboat
floats around a pond that many of
us are familiar with. The sport is
known as Crew, and as a matter of
a small beginner's course, we shall
attempt to explain it to those who
may not be aware of this exciting
athletic activity.

Even the least aware minds can
probably deduce that Crew occurs
with the aid of a boat of some sort.
There are those who are familiar
with the appearance of a scull, but
for others, it is a long, narrow,
shallow-draught craft designed for
speed in the water. Because crew is
a team sport which can involve
teams of several sizes, the length of
the shells likewise vary. An Eight,
which strangely seats nine persons
(eight Oarsmen and a Coxswain,
pronounced Coxon), is
approximately 60 feet in length
with Fours (usually holding five
persons), Pairs (two?) and Singles,
decreasing in length accordingly.
The shell itself is constructed to be
as light as possible and is therefore
built from a super-thin 1/8 inch
veneer, often African Red Cherry.
Shells are about as wide as one
good-sized male fanny and for this
reason tend to be upsettable. The
impracticality of paper thin

bottoms makes it necessary to have
a network of braces on the shell's
interior to avoid the occurrence of
feet plunging through the thin hull.

Mounting the shell involves a
process of gingerly teamwork in
which all involved are certain to
step on the braces before seating
themselves on a wooden palate,
about the size of a 45 rpm record,
which is set upon small rollers.
After placing their feet into laced
stirrups on the bottom of the boat,
they are prepared to row. The oars
which they use, although imposing
in size (about 12 feet long) are
unusually light though the actual
weight can vary to fit the
personnel. At the end of the shaft
of the oar is a spoon shaped blade
also may vary in width.

After all preparations have been
achieved, the rowers, whether eight,
four, two or one, begin the
technique of rowing. Simple
enough. But technique means
technique. Gripping the oars, the
oarsmen slide forward on their
wheeled seat (remember the
rollers?) until their knees touch
their chests then lean back with a
superhuman pull on the oars and
subsequent sliding back on their
rolling perches. Each man has one
oar, and the oars are staggered from
side to side to provide equal
leverage on either flank of the craft.

With the oarless number nine
man, the coxswain, barking out a
cadence of strokes (usually around
40 per minute), the boat lurches
forward under the power of the
oars. The course that the boat must
follow covers 2,000 meters of water
and is not necessarily straight, in
which case the coxswain, the only
man facing in the direction of
motion, steers the shell as well as
correcting his teammates' strokes
and urging the team on. According
to our limited Math 1-2 knowledge,
2,000 meters translates to about 1
1/4 miles, and considering that the
elapsed time for this run is between
six and seven minutes, we can come
to appreciate the speeds attained as
well as the fatigue acquired.

As to plans for the Cavalier
crew, Coach Eliades has indicated
that rather than place the largest