Pop 'n Lock

Ah, the rites of spring: new life abounds, spirits lift, warmth returns, docks are refurbished...

One of these things is not like the other you say? Well, my friend, then you have clearly never enjoyed the rejuvenating excersise that is the cleansing, draining, plugging, and re-assembly of a JetFloat dock.

Think large, floatable Legos: our dock is a modular affair, composed of sturdy, buoyant blocks held together by pins that fit neatly into four overlapping tabs on the corner of each block. While theoretically waterproof, enough wear and tear on the Harlem River renders the blocks a tad soggy. Add the effects of flocks of Canadian geese over the course of a year, and you have one honking mess.

So what's a rower to do? Time to bust out scrub brushes, scrapers, giant hex wrench, and plumbers tape! Yes, it's about as much fun as it sounds, but many hands make light work, and after a few chilly mornings, we had the pieces ready to go.

Little did we suspect that the hardest task was ahead of us, for despite the somewhat clunky appearance of the floats and pins, we discovered that assembly demanded considerable precision: the tabs on the corner of each block must be aligned in perfect sequence, and one tab out of place throws off the entire setup, like a giant sudoku puzzle.

Mental and logic tests aside, we were challenged by an unexpected need for brute force to jam the connecting pins through the tab, and then wrench them around with a special key designed just for these pieces. Our kung-fu technique improved quickly as we learned how to aim our kicks just-so, and soon we had the pins popping in with a satisfying click, followed by our Keymasters locking the pieces in place.

Much of this assembly was accomplished on land, but eventually we had figure out how to attach large sections of dock to the ramp that connects to the shoreline, without letting any section float downstream a la Huck Finn. This required an understanding of fluid dynamics that was somewhat lacking in our group of intrepid dockworkers, but somehow we prevailed, and unlike the process of removing the dock for winterizing, no one went for a swim in the still-frigid waters of the Harlem this time.

I hope I speak for the group when I say I have never seen a more beauteous dock in my life; the long stretch of black blocks resting lightly upon the water, warm in the late afternoon sun, yeilded an enormously satisfying feeling of accomplishment. Woe to any geese who dare sully the fruits of our labor!

We stand victorious, and ready to ROW!

We are Guppies!

HRCR was thrilled to receive the first-ever "Guppy Award" in December from the Metropolitan Waterfront Alliance, for being the best new Alliance partner in the past year. We are so proud to have been recognized by MWA who have been so helpful to us as we literally and figuratively navigate the waters of New York City. Special thanks go to outgoing MWA Executive Director Carter Craft, whose wise council and endorsement has been invaluable to us, and we wish him all the best in his future endeavors.

Our fellow honorees included Jessica Lappin, New York City Council Member and Bill Woods, New York City Department of City Planning, who received the Wetsuit MWAward for most helpful bureaucrats, and Dan Petrie, devoted volunteer captain on Big G, who won the Waterlogged MWAward for best volunteer. We’re psyched to be included in such company! While all awardees received a take-home prize, we feel that without a doubt our giant green glass fishing float, complete with intricately-knotted netting, was by far the most distinctively nautical (and conversation-starting) of the handouts. Debate rages as to where we shall enshrine our big glass ball—surely such an artifact deserves a place of honor and high visibility. Look for it and us on the Harlem River this coming spring!

The Big Lift

With our fall season over, and the weather gradually ebbing from calm and balmy to chill and wintry, we knew it was time to wrap up our rowing for the year 2008.

Closing shop for the season is pretty straightforward: You haul the motors off to be winterized, tidy up a bit, batten down whatever hatches happen to be unsecured. Oh, and you disassemble the entire 40-foot-long JetFloat dock, hauling it section by waterlogged section from the water, heaving those onto dry land, and piling them in an out-of-the-way corner of the park.

This is something of a chore. Though the interlocking one-foot-square plastic cubes appear light and buoyant, many were cracked and had taken on water. Then there is the inevitable patina of goose poop smeared across their top surface; a slimy lacquer of algae along their edges; and a bristling of barnacles on the bottom to contend with.

We came prepared, wearing work gloves and bundled in waterproof gear. Good thing, as it was perhaps the coldest, windiest day yet this fall. We’re talking serious frigid gusts, people. Coffee was not merely keeping us awake, it was keeping the blood in our fingers from freezing.

Using a special T-bar tool to “unlock” chunks of dock in rafts two cubes by three cubes big, we floated the sections over to the ramp, hefted them up, and carried them to the edge of the baseball field. It took four or five people to haul one section. Brackish water and muck slicked our hands, arms, bellies, and legs. We started singing that song about Sal the mule and the Erie Canal. That stopped when someone fell in.

Oh yes, you heard me—someone went swimming. He, who shall go unnamed, stepped on a loosened cube and took the plunge into the 50 degree water. He was quickly rescued by our own stalwart rower, Al. Moments later, said swimmer was sitting on terra firma, pouring water out of his shoes. He left for his car soon after (and reported later that day that he was just fine).

We toiled on without him. A couple of rowers from the Fordham crew came down to help. James S., from ESRA, was in charge of draining waterlogged cubes. Spirits were high as we wrapped up before noon—a satisfying few hours of work.

Lest you think we’re crazy, keep in mind the sorry state of the dock this year—the popped pegs that stubbed our toes, the unsecured cubes that sank precariously when stepped on—and imagine what a few good winter squalls would do to it. As we’d like to have a dock come spring, taking it off the water was the only solution.

Which leads one to the obvious conclusion: We’re going to have to put it back if we want to row again. But you can be sure that we’ll not only have more donuts on hand, we’ll wait for a blissfully warm, sunny day on which to do so. And we’ll bring extra clothes in case anyone goes swimming again.

The 1st Annual Bow Ball!

HRCR is thrilled to thank all of the rowers, friends, and crewpies who came out on September 23rd to celebrate the 1st Annual Bow Ball Fundraiser!

Over 75 revellers gathered at Lolita Bar on the Lower East Side and enjoyed Sugar Hill Ale generously donated by Harlem Brewery, Inc. while bidding on a variety of silent auction prizes from African drumming lessons, to fencing classes courtesy of Olympic silver medalist Tim Morehouse, and a Block Island getaway. Former oarsman DJ NaTurner provided musical stylings. Thanks to everyone for making the evening a smashing success!

p.s. Speaking of smashing--it's not a party without a pirate piñata.

The Road To (and from) Learn-To-Row 2008

Would that I could spin a narrative to unite the following non sequiturs. Use your imagination to connect the dots between these behind-the-scenes images from LTR 2008.














It was crawlin' and it stunk…














To be fair, they were at the site before us.













The HRCR Mobile Boathouse: modular dock + Uhaul = office on-the-go.
We multitask, people.

Racks!!!

A quick update from the equipment and storage front:

As most of you know, rowing shells are big (well long really) and finding a place to store them in New York City is a bit of a logistical challenge (someday ask Tracy about the oars in her bedroom or the dock in her basement...). The point is that with many thanks to Turner Construction and Jacobson & Co. Inc., for their generous donation of lumber, time and expertise, HRCR now not only has boats, but has a place to put them!

Our fantastic construction crew poses with the lumber...

And then we all get to work...


Two racks down, one more to go...

The moment of truth...


Hey! Check us out! We have boat racks!

The Jingle Mingle Erg Relay

First, a confession: I own an erg. However, it is typically found in an upright position in the corner of my room, where I find it useful for hanging up not-quite-dry laundry. In my defense, I didn't actually buy the thing for myself, it belonged to my dad until my mom told me to get it out of her home office where he was storing it. At any rate, it doesn't get a lot of use.

So when I got the announcement for Row NY's first annual Jingle Mingle erg relay event, in which Row NY girls would be paired with adults for a series of 500 meter pieces, I did not exactly see it as an opportunity to showcase my strength. Ordinarily and historically, I have avoided both athletics and athletic competition. In high school my eligibility for graduation was questioned because I was delinquent one gym credit. Thus my involvement with the sport of rowing is a constant source of surprise to those who know me well. What can I say, I love being on the water.

But this seemed like a competition I could handle, if for no other reason than because the registration form asked, "if you had to pull 500 meters right now would you A) feel fine B) give a shaky high five C) fall off the erg D) need an ambulance." I circled "D" and sent it in.

On the day of the event I dragged myself out of bed far earlier than should be allowed on a Saturday morning, and made my way to the Row NY headquarters in Long Island City. I found the erg room abuzz with Row New Yorkers, masters rowers, a few babies and children, and one very large dog. There was a large cohort of what appeared to be recently graduated varsity athletes, judging from the fresh faces, lean physiques, and collegiate unis, and also one particularly tall gentleman who I later learned was an Olympic gold medalist. You might think I felt out of my league, and indeed I was, but I also felt a sense of relief that whatever junior athlete I was teamed with would not be entirely dragged down by my performance, as these other folks would surely improve our average.

The races kicked off with the novices, in teams of four that combined both youth and masters, each pulling 500m with 15 seconds in between to switch rowers. A din arose as teammates urged each other on. One exchange: Teammate: "Go faster!" Rower: "I don't know how!" I hear you, sister.



The second event was for the Row NY varsity girls and their adult teammates. I huddled with my crew, which included one Row NYer and two guys in unis, both looking pretty fit. We decided on our lineup, stood attentive until the head coach pronounced "Ready all, ROW!" and our lead man went at it with all his might.

Five hundred meters goes pretty fast--when you're watching someone else do it. Before I knew it, my teammate was done and I had 15 seconds to take over. I did not get off to an auspicious start, however, when I was unable to wedge my excessively large feet (size 13, to be precise) into the foot straps, and wasted valuable time readjusting before I actually began to pull. Flustered, I yanked away, and managed a few strokes at a respectable 1:45 or so...and slowly watched my numbers increase to 2:10 and beyond. It felt like concrete had been poured over the erg and into my limbs. I cannot honestly recall what my ultimate time was, but suffice it to say that despite the valiant efforts of the teammates who suceeded me, we placed 7th...out of seven. As far as defeats go, this was not too painful (emotionally, at least--my lungs were another matter), and in short order everyone moved on to other relays. As the event was sponsored by the good folks at Credit Suisse, everyone lined up for a free-for-all known as "Credit Suisse vs. The World", as well as an exclusively Row NY relay.

Without a doubt, the Row New York relay was my favorite event of the day, and not just because I didn't have to exert myself. As each girl stepped up to do her piece, she was surrounded by her peers yelling encouragement. This may not strike you as remarkable--they are teammates, after all. But as someone who spent thirteen years in an all-girls school growing up, I can say with authority that the prevailing vibe in an all-female environment, especially adolescent, is not always one of sisterhood so much as it is of competition, disparagement, backstabbing, jealousy, contempt...you get the idea. And while I'm sure these girls are competitive not only against other teams but also against each other--rowing does not attract the complacent--it was nonetheless gratifying to see the girls cheering each other on.



The Jingle Mingle concluded with awards, food, and general merriment. While I may not touch my erg at home for a few days (or more), Adam M. suggested that over the winter HRBC register for the Concept 2 online log to collectively track our progress. Stay tuned to the HRBC website for details, if you'd like to participate. So the countdown to Jingle Mingle 2008 has begun: Next year I'm shooting for 6th place, and Credit Suisse is going down!