60 years on – `Sweaty Bettys and Perspiring Persephones’ – Recollections from CUWBC’s Averil Wootton (1965-66) and Valerie Goldsbrough (1962-64)

CUBC is grateful to Averil Wootton Naysmith (Newnham, CUWBC 2nd IV 1965, 2nd VIII 1966 Captain) for providing recollections in honour of her 60th anniversary. And we are delighted to reshare recollections from Valerie Goldsbrough Holding (New Hall, Women’s Blue Boat 1962-64, President 1961-63) originally collected by Jane Kingsbury in the early 00s. The Club […]

CUBC is grateful to Averil Wootton Naysmith (Newnham, CUWBC 2nd IV 1965, 2nd VIII 1966 Captain) for providing recollections in honour of her 60th anniversary. And we are delighted to reshare recollections from Valerie Goldsbrough Holding (New Hall, Women’s Blue Boat 1962-64, President 1961-63) originally collected by Jane Kingsbury in the early 00s. The Club extends its thanks to Jane for her tireless effort in documenting the history of women’s rowing at Cambridge.

Reflections from Valerie Goldsbrough

“On being approached to write something about my time as President of the CUWBC, I realised with a shock that I needed to go back nearly 40 years. I cannot sensibly offer any suggestions for the future; I know that in all sports, training, performance and participation has advanced significantly, particularly for women’s sports. So I have concentrated on trying to record what I can still remember of the highlights of my years in office and have put together a small collection of photographs and cuttings from the period to accompany the text.

I went up to New Hall to read Engineering in 1960, with no thought (or experience) of rowing. The nearest I had come to an interest in rowing was to support the Cambridge crew (on tv) in the Boat Race.

Re-establishing Women’s Rowing at Cambridge

So how did it come about that I became President? Well, easy. When I got to Cambridge, I discovered that not many girls did Engineering: in fact, I was the only one in my year (and as it happens, the first ever New Hall engineering undergraduate). I also discovered that a very high proportion of rowers were engineers – and vice versa. In my first year, I used to enjoy riding along the river watching the crews practicing, but felt rather left out when my friends in the Engineering Department talked about their training. But there wasn’t a women’s crew in the University – or indeed on the Cam – so I had to make do with the vicarious pleasures of being a supporter.

Then came several happy chances in my second year. Jean Anscombe came up to read Engineering. Not only was she also the only girl in her year but she was at New Hall and moreover she took up residence at St Chads in Grange Road. (New Hall was very new at this time, its centre was in Silver Street but it had been loaned various houses round Cambridge to accommodate its few undergraduates: St Chads accommodated, I guess, around 12-14 of us). And she was also interested in rowing, although again had no previous experience. So we were thrown together by common interests.

I can’t remember how it all came about that we managed to discover that there had been a Women’s Boat Club until quite recently. I guess we probably advertised on the College Sports notice boards to assess interest. We were certainly soon in touch with the one remaining female rower from that era. I think it much have been through her that we managed to locate the Boat Club’s meagre remaining assets, namely a clinker built 8, a tub pair and a set of oars (all in quite good condition), a small amount of cash in a savings account, and a log book. I understand, incidentally, that the log book has disappeared, a pity as it had entries from early in the last century, and I know that we updated it with records of our races and training.

So between us, Jean and I resolved to revive the Boat Club electing ourselves without opposition as President and Secretary! Since we had little money, and only one member with previous rowing experience, we had to improvise.

Equipment

As far as equipment was concerned, we ‘did deals.’ The Town Boat Club housed our boats and oars in exchange for their use on Sundays when, of course, the University didn’t row. We were allowed to borrow sculling boats and sometimes IVs from 1st & 3rd, and use their pontoons in exchange for them borrowing our VIII and tub. And we had a great deal of help and encouragement from the Trinity Boatman, and also the Downing Boatman, who kindly maintained our equipment for us, fortunately without charge.

Coaches

As for coaches, I used to go into lectures and sit down beside someone I knew could row reasonably well and beg them to come and help us, and a surprising number were willing and put a great deal of effort into coaching our motely crew. In particular, I remember Steve Richards of St John’s & Lady Margaret and Norman Crow of Christs. We also had the most tremendous encouragement and help from Canon Duckworth, who was officially coaching at Churchill but who found a lot of time for our crews as well. As Churchill had the boathouse between the Town and Trinity boathouses, even when he was not coaching us, I can remember how cheerful and bouncy he was as we met on the banks. Canon Duckworth can be seen in the photo in the typical style, congratulating us after the ‘Boat Race’ against Oxford.

Selection

The only real difficulty was finding a crew (note the singular!). Certainly in the early years, raising one whole crew to represent the whole University was a constant battle. Selection was out of the question and having crews representing different colleges (even though there were only New Hall, Newnham, and Girton) would have been impossible. I remember that lunch times and dinner at New Hall were used to extol the pleasures of rowing to anyone who looked remotely interested and cajoling them to at least come down and try it out.

I was firmly allocated, and unwilling as I’d had ambitions to be stroke, to the bow position by one of our coaches. I soon realised that bow had the best view of both our own crew and the opposition! From the start my position was fixed and could not easily be changed: I am very short (just under 5 feet tall or 1M52 in present day units) so the stretchers had to be moved so that my feet could reach them! Jean was our first stroke, but she fell ill during Easter vacation, and thereafter took over coxing for a while until she recovered her strength. Carola Brotherton, who entertained us all with her pen and ink drawings, and was our original cox, nobly agreed to become and oarswoman instead.

Finding Competition

Of course, with only one boat and one crew and no means of transporting either, the next difficulty was competition. After all, training and practice begin to pail. But we couldn’t locate any women’s rowing anywhere local, women’s rowing being almost as uncommon as women engineers in those days. The we discovered the Clare Novices Race, a race up to the Long Reach for crews of the University who had never raced. So we entered that and, of course, were knocked out in the first heat although we put up a brave fight.

We never lost our enthusiasm, however, and the belief that with training and good technique we might overcome our handicap of lack of weight and sheer physical strength and somehow defeat an inexperienced or unskilled men’s crew. So when we discovered that the rules for the Bumps Races were such that ‘any Boat Club of the University’ was entitled to ‘put a boat on the river’ (although subsequent boats might be subject to qualification if the races were oversubscribed) we promptly entered our sole crew. In fact, when the start orders were allocated, CUWBC came on above all the other ‘new’ crews as we were there by right. I believe that now there is sensibly a separate division for ladies (and the races are in IVs). I think we were (unsurprisingly in retrospect) bumped on every day of every bumps we entered.

The first bumps race we entered was the 1962 Lents. I haven’t generally retained the Bumps programmes for the Lents, although I still have ones for the Mays and the pages related to our entries (in the lowest Division, of course).

1964 – The Challenge from Oxford

I remember that we were surprised in 1964 to receive a challenge from Oxford to a Boat Race to be rowed on the Isis. Some women at Oxford had read of our exploits on the Cam and had, like us but a couple of years later, revived women’s rowing at Oxford. Naturally we accepted and I think it was at this time that we decided we had better splash out and at least buy matching pale blue sweatshirts (this was all we could afford), so that we had some semblance of a crew uniform. We were therefore dumbfounded to discover when we arrived at the slipway, that Oxford had a sponsor who had provided them with a complete uniform (including matching trousers); what was worse, they had obviously been taking their training very seriously as the crew started doing synchronised warm up exercises. In danger of being psychologically defeated before we started, we promptly formed a circle and started doing our own exercises (something we had never bothered with before). After all this, we were delighted (and relieved) to win reasonably comfortably. The win enabled us to award ourselves oars. Our friend, the Trinity Boatman, very kindly found us suitable old oars and restored and decorated them beautifully for us with the crew names and coats of arms, etc. I still have mine stored in the rafters of our garage and I am very proud of it. We were later awarded half blues for our efforts by the Women’s Blues Committee; only half blues because the race was in its infancy.

Other Memories

Other memories include taking out the experimental sliding rigger/fixed seat VIII. Jean an I became very interested in the different styles of rowing and in the theory of rowing. I discovered that one of my supervisors at the Engineering Department, I think it was Mr AMP Brookes, had done a lot of work in this area and he described to me an experimental boat with which he had been involved. It had not proved particularly successful, but had been intended to try and overcome the changes of boat speed caused by the body weight movements. The boat had been stored for some time be managed to raise a crew (mainly men) and took it out. The exercise was short-lived as the boat leaked badly after so long in store, but I can still remember passing crews doing a ‘double-take’ and not quite believing their eyes at the strange rowing action.

But the best memories are the fun we had, although we were very serious about our training and tried always to improve and succeed. I still remember most the pleasures of rowing on the Cam and the comradeship of the river. And particularly the friendliness and kindness of the majority of the men who helped us and welcomed us warmly.”

Reflections from Averil Wootton

Why did I start Rowing?

I’d always been a bit of a tomboy, climbing trees, play fighting with the boy next door- and resentful of being left out of things because I was a girl. Yet wanted to keep my femininity, having no doubt that I was attracted to boys. I liked the idea of rowing but hesitated to do anything about it in my first year, thinking perhaps it was it just too butch.  It wasn’t until the `Long Vac Term’  1964 that Natalka Fleming (NH) asked me to try it, as she was having to drop out of CUWBC and there was a risk that the mainly New Hall enterprise of reviving the Club would fail. You’ve heard how Valerie Goldsborough and Jean Anscombe had had to search for the CUWBC boat!

Back then, there were no Concept IIs and my first outing was initially in a `bank tub’, followed by a tub pair with a Girtonian, with Keith Tovey (Corpus) coxing. It takes me time to learn any physical co-ordination and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to go on. The light was fading by the time we’d landed and, suddenly, the Blue Boat came out of the gloom, powering by, or so it seemed, towards Jesus lock, and I went, `Wow! I want some of that!’

I think it was the rhythm and sound of the oars and the sensation of speed and power. So I persisted, partly for my own satisfaction and partly because I believed the women had as much right to be on the river as the men had.  As Ruth Cohen (Newnham Principle) pointed out at the Freshers’ Feast, it was only 15 years since women had been admitted to full membership of the University. (When you’re only 18, that seems a long time!) I can’t remember if it was RC who said, `Remember, you’re only here on sufferance, or my Newnhamite form-mistress at school.

How the Women’s Amateur Rowing Association (WARA) disapproved of us rowing against the men

I recall being told at some point (late in 1965 maybe?) that CUWBC had been banned from competing in any races held under their aegis because we rowed against men on the Cam. That is, we could and did take part in college- organised races e.g. Clare Novices & Fairbairn Cup. There was also talk of the Emma Dash/Sprints. I never heard how the crews that we beat felt about this. We had little money for travelling but although we did compete on the Tideway in ’66 -the United Universities’ race at Chiswick.

WARA & Class aspects

`The result of the ARA’s tight restrictions on eligibility to row was the formation of two separate groups: the National Amateur Rowing Association (NARA) in 1890, to represent male working-class rowers, and the Women’s Amateur Rowing Association (WARA) in 1923 for female rowers of similar social standing to members of the ARA. ‘ – Competitive Women’s Rowing in Britain Since 1945

It’s an interesting point whether this rule would have would have affected CU crew members of humble origin – in the past, membership of the University automatically conferred the status of ‘Gentleman’ on male undergrads. Perhaps ‘Girton ladies’ would have been okay but ‘Newnham women’ would not!

Male attitudes

I didn’t experience any direct opposition to us rowing and we were well supported by our coaches, two of who married members of CUWBC. I recall Jim Peachey (Johns), Keith Tovey (Corpus) & Jeremy Holloway (Emma). Also Bruce McClellan (Selwyn), nicknamed Tigger, left `valentine’ to us in the boathouse. It read:

C is for Cover, crisp and clean,

U is for Unity not often seen.

W for Work in all kinds of weather,

B is for `Bounce’, which sometimes gets better.

C is for Captain, Coxswains and Crew

And the handsome young Coach who loves all of you.

Canon Duckworth (at that time Chaplain of Churchill) was our official coach (was he our mandatory Senior Member?) We saw him from time to time and he always encouraged us, his ‘Sweaty Bettys and Perspiring Persephones’ to have ‘fire in our bosoms.’

I recall we had willing support from the boatman of 1st & 3rd when we borrowed boats – the 2nd VIII, for example, used their clinker, Hervey de Stanton. Admittedly, most of the men’s clubs were by then equipping themselves with shells. Also with modern, shorter, oars with wider blades such as barrels, whereas we were stuck with longer, narrower-bladed ones from the 1950s, these being deemed more suitable for women. That is, best rowed with grace, rhythm and poise, rather than relying on strength.

We were well aware of scepticism about our physical ability. For example, when we took part in the Fairbairn Cup in Michaelmas ’65, there was doubt as to whether we’d manage to complete the course. Well, we did and in a respectable time as well.

Likewise, when it became known that we were off to the `Bridge ‘ at Clayhithe it was assumed that we’d fail to make the portage at Baits Bite Lock or conk out before we got to the pub. Back then, the pub dining room had large windows looking out onto the river, Jim Peache (cox) appeared above the bank without creating any interest. When, however we eight females popped up into view and trooped to the Public bar for a swift half, the diners (all apparently affluent gentlemen) were astonished and lined up at the window. One had his napkin tucked into his collar and was still clutching his cutlery.

On both occasions, therefore, we confounded our critics with great ease.

Finally, in Easter term ‘66 CUWBC received a nasty letter purporting to come from Martin Brown, Captain of Boats at Selwyn, repeating the Victorian idea that vigorous exercise for women was dangerous and that we would fail anyway. There was one publication, possibly a societies’ handbook, which remarked on the widespread male belief that women were good only at one sport ‘and that was performed lying down’. It took about 50 years for the letter to be publicly exposed as a fraud in the pages of CAM. Had I known it was attributed to Martin, I could put the record straight in the late ‘60s, when he and I were colleagues, neighbours and friends in our teaching jobs at William Ellis School, NW5, he would never have done such a thing.

Money matters

I certainly asked whether a subscription was due to CUWBC and was assured that it was all covered by Amalgamated Clubs. I have no idea if this was true or not. Certainly, we were short of ready cash as a Club although we did hire a coach to take us to Chiswick to compete in Lent ’66. For our Boat Race, we shared transport to Oxford with the Coxes Society (in ’66 this meant a frustrating journey home, them wanting to have lengthy pub stops while we were eager to get back for the Cardinals Ball). We were also invited to the Coxes’ Annual Dinner – a very good one at Caius, with John Snagge as Guest Speaker.

Likewise, I don’t know how we were able to use the Trinity boatman or their boats, although I see from other online entries from CUWBC that we paid no rent for the use of the City boathouse, there was an arrangement whereby they could use our boat/s on Sundays when the University was off the river.

The only other expenditure would have been the Boat Race lunch. In ’65 that was at Churchill and I assume it was courtesy of Jimmy Duckworth. I’m ashamed to admit we didn’t really regard him with the respect he deserved. As a Forces chaplain, he was a Japanese POW in the War, he was heroic and Christ-like and I felt very humbled when I read an online account of this.

Equipment

Our resources were minimal. The eight, a wooden clinker, was kept in the City of Cambridge boathouse (next to 1st & 3rd). I believe it had been found in CCRC boathouse by Ann Glithero.

We carried the boats underarm, not throwing them up to shoulder height as the men did. This did cause some amusement but I seem to recall us trying it, successfully, once or twice near the end of my time. It’s ironic that it’s all underarm now.

Similarly, everyone except me dropped their knees apart as they came forward ‘body between your knees’. I, however, began rowing as stroke and could not bring myself to come forward to a male coach/cox with my legs apart, such were the niceties of the time (just as I didn’t like my skirt riding up above my knees when cycling). Hence, I’d graze my thighs with my thumbnails, on one occasion, outside the boathouse, eliciting a wisecrack from a passing male, ‘here comes the bloody stroke!’ Now everyone rows with straight legs, it seems.

We were quite experimental in our rowing at times. We tried doing it metachronally, much as ragworm paddles, which caused a great bit of mirth both in our boat and the other craft nearby. It wasn’t a disaster, but there was no obvious advantage beyond the cox being spared the punch in the back.

I’ve a vague feeling we may have tried some rigging changes to correct the bias to stroke side but gave that up as well.

Club Colours

We were not allowed to use Varsity blue; instead of that particular shade of duckegg/pale turquoise it had to be Sky blue, the standard light blue of the time. Moreover, I assume, just to make the point that we were nothing to do with the Blue Boat, we had a white stripe across the blade. To me, it suggested a Bar Sinister, with the suggestion of illegitimacy.

As for scarves, we made our own – 2 yards of 36”wide Clydella, a much cheaper version of Vyella, folded lengthwise & stitched, with hand-knotted tassels of sky-blue-nylon knitting yarn. The theory was they would serve as stoles for formal evening wear. I used to joke that they’d make good shrouds for the watery burial of drowned rowers – but I was grateful for mine, as a towel, when I overturned a Trinity scull in February (well, I was backing her down both sides by the boathouse, luckily). Good job I didn’t try it by the Gasworks Wall, especially as my tracksuit was waterlogged).

We did buy very cheap tracksuits in Royal blue from the little sports shop on the corner of Trinity Lane, now felicitously occupied by Sweaty Betty. (As in Canon Duckworth’s name for us!) Said tracksuits came from somewhere in the Eastern bloc – when the elastic gave way, I discovered some 60” (1.52m) of fabric gathered into the waist. Small wonder it was bulky, my waist was a shade under 26”. At least the blue wasn’t as dark as Oxford’s.

When competing, we wore white: shorts (often men’s rowing shorts in stout cotton, with side openings and reinforced seat, shaped for sitting down), tops of any design, long or short socks and white plimsolls.

I may not have been even a half blue but I did get my First Boat colours, which entitled me to sew a sky-blue ribbon about 3cms wide, down the side of my shorts.

`Bumps Supper’

My idea, I think. I’d suggested we should get together for a meal after the Mays in ’66, with boyfriends, before going on to separate parties. Only 5 others were interested so there were 12 in all. As I recall, I booked what was then the Old Hall Dining Room (now the Barbara White Room — there was a serving hatch where there’s now a fire place), did the shopping and the minimal cooking required as I wasn’t on the river that afternoon. Help came as soon as the others could make it.

The menu:

Grapefruit

Chicken salad

Strawberries and cream

Cheese board (selection of English cheeses)

With white wine, followed by Nestlés Blend 37

It sounds so ordinary now but chicken, cream and Double Gloucester/Wensleydale/etc still seemed rather special then. I expect the wine was a `Spanish Burgundy’ as it was then called. We then did our own washing up before heading out to boogie. And of course, we’d worn our scarves as stoles. I do not know if the idea was taken up after that.

How significant were our efforts?

I went down in 1966; in that Michaelmas I heard from the then Captain, C Anne Robinson, that the Club might be getting another boat, a shell eight, a sure sign things were looking up.

My disappointment at not making the Blue Boat was quite acute at the time – as I now say `it was a time when only nine women at Cambridge rowed and eight were better than I was’. Nevertheless, I console myself that had I not usually been available to make up the crew it might have taken longer for CUWBC to make a mark.

However amateurish we might have been by today’s standards, and despite us not being the original pioneers, I firmly believe that we helped, by dogged determination (bloody mindedness?) and making a moral point, may have moved the cause of women’s rowing on to the point where it could take off properly when women came up in larger numbers.