Charles Carroll wrote:
The point is, as I understand it, the East Germans
used heart rate — not stroke rate
Steve Schaffran wrote:
On the erg, [Christian’s] advice to me was to concentrate on
long sessions at low spm and high drag
- e.g., 18 spm at drag > 180.
So I have been quite wrong. The East German did train at low cadence — i.e. 18/24 spm.
Yesterday I looked over my notes from my lessons with Christian Dahlke. I haven’t reread these notes since I wrote them. In hindsight I wish I had. In case anyone is interested I am going to paste a copy of them. One thing I want to add is that Chris Dadd is mentioned in the notes. He is an accomplished rower and sculler, currently coaches the Berkeley High School crew, and coaches at Open Water Rowing in Sausalito.
Three Comments on Sculling
Christian Dahlke
The first lesson in the double as we were moving away Christian offered a small speech:
“The thing you need to know about me is that I am honest. I do not say anything that is not true. This can be both good and bad. If I hurt your feelings, I am sorry. That’s the bad part. But the good part is that I will tell you honestly things you need to know. I have been rowing on an international level for twenty-two years.”
In all three of my lessons with Christian he exhorted me to make rowing my own.
“You have the rhythm, a good, regular stroke. Together we are in harmony. Now add melody.”
Just last week in an email Christian wrote: “I wish you many good and exciting timeouts on the water, little islands of rowing in the middle of hard working days, pure fun - to find more and more the Carroll melody.”
So what does Christian mean by melody?
Is Christian suggesting that a sculler can reach a level where his technique becomes so distinctive it might be said to be his own?
I have taken as a given the existence of an ideal rowing stroke, say an eidos of the rowing stroke, a kind of categorical imperative, impersonal, universal, absolute, that is the same for all scullers and for which all scullers strive. Working on technique meant trying to overcome flaws in one’s personal technique in an attempt to achieve a universal ideal. The nearer to ideal a sculler’s technique becomes, the less distinctive it is from the techniques of fellow scullers who are also closing in on the ideal. In other words, the techniques of all good scullers look alike.
But if I understand Christian, this isn’t what he thinks. Instead Christian seems to be suggesting that there is something individual and distinctive in the techniques of good scullers—that they are good precisely because each in his own way has found his own melody. In other words an exceptional sculler is someone who has made sculling his own. He has a distinctive, recognizable technique.
In this sense aren’t good scullers like good dancers or good musicians? The music is the same for everyone, but the exceptional make it their own. Take Mozart's Piano Sonatas, the subtle variations in the way Mitsuko Uchida plays these as opposed to the way Andras Schiff plays them.
Chris Dadd
Lesson with Chris Dadd. Unusual lesson. We spent more time discussing rowing and what I was working on than we spent actually rowing.
First thing Chris did was answer my question about scullers developing distinctive and recognizable styles.
“Yes,” said Chris. “Good scullers eventually scull in their own styles. No question.”
“So you can tell who’s out there just by looking?”
“Sure,” said Chris. “All the guys I row with have their own style. It’s nothing to tell them apart. Christian is right on about that. I’m sorry I didn’t have more opportunity to talk with him.”
Next we discussed my trying to involve my arms more at the Catch.
“Ever since I started sculling I’ve worked at not using my arms at the Catch. I’ve tried to keep them straight as long as possible during the drive. I’ve only permitted myself to use the arms after my back has opened. But Steve Fairbairn says this is wrong. He says that you should couple the drive with the draw—meaning that the legs and arms should work together at the Catch. Specifically, as you push off with the legs the arms should simultaneously draw at the oar handles. I have trying to row with bent elbows at the Catch because this is a drill Fairbairn recommends.”
“I know guys who row with bent elbows at the Catch. And they’re fast,” said Chris.
“The other thing—and this is a very important point—is that my back has never felt better since I started taking the Catch with bent elbows.”
“Then that’s what you should do,” said Chris.
“But Fairbairn also says that trying to push off the stretcher while pulling your weight on to the rowing pins—that is, coupling the drive and the draw—is about the most difficult thing you can do in rowing.”
“Yeah, some people—very few people—do it naturally, right from the start. But for most of us it takes years. You’ve been rowing a very short time. You’ve made enormous progress.”
“You think 16 months is a short time?”
“Yes I do,” said Chris. “And you really have made enormous progress. The basics can be picked up quickly. But to really learn sculling takes a huge amount of effort. By the way, I don’t teach the Fairbairn style—I don’t teach bent elbows at the Catch. But that doesn’t matter. It’s working for you. I know it works for other guys. What you have to say about your back is the important thing. So don’t worry. Keep rowing with bent elbows at the Catch."
Chris Dadd
“Last year after one of our lessons you said that “to really learn sculling takes a huge amount of time.” What did you mean by to really learn sculling?”
“I meant that it think it takes 3 to 5 years to become completely relaxed, completely confident in a boat. We’ve talked about those rare people who climb into a boat and seem to be competent right from the start. They have no trouble keeping a boat level. Their timing seems right on. They just seem to be naturals at sculling. But even for these people it still takes 3 to 5 years to acquire the skill to make sculling look effortless.”
Next I asked Chris about staying on the pins for a few milliseconds at the Finish.
“The Caius boat has been the First Boat in the Upper Division at the Bumps for the last five years, and when we were in Cambridge earlier in the summer I saw it doing exactly this. The crew took a hard Finish. The blades came out of the water and you could hear a loud crack as the collars snapped into place in the oarlocks. Then all eight rowers paused. It was only for milliseconds, but it was a definite, discernible pause. Their blades were level. The boat was level. Only after the boat was set up did the Caius crew begin their Recovery. They were absolutely relaxed and unhurried as they came up the Slide. And they took the Catch the same way—unhurried and relaxed. They just made everything look effortless. The rowers in the boat behind the Caius boat looked frantic. They were red in the face and breathing hard and rowing at a higher rate. They seemed desperate. Meanwhile the rowers in the Caius boat looked as if they weren’t trying at all. From their appearance they could have been out for a leisurely Sunday row. Their rate was lower, yet they were faster. They went long and held on to the water beautifully. With every stroke they seemed to get a little faster and pull ahead just a little bit more.”
Chris smiled.
“I have seen many crews and even good scullers pause at the Finish. There’s nothing wrong with that. I myself don’t teach it, but I have seen many people doing it. And they’ve been fast. I always tell my kids—and anyone else who will listen—there are many ways to move a boat.”
It was my turn to smile.
“The other thing I tell them—it’s become almost a cliché you hear it so many times—is go slow to go fast. But it’s still true no matter how many times you hear it. Only no one ever quite seems to get this, do they?”
