On the Thames

Oxford got the better start. At Craven's Steps, Cambridge, pulling with an easier stroke, was three quarters of a length in front. The Cambridge coxswain, Duckworth, hugged the Surrey bank for smoother water. Close to shore, his shell got better run, led by three lengths at Hammersmith Bridge, half way on the 4 1/4-mile course. The Oxford coxswain, Bryan, steered smartly toward the Surrey side. For the first time in the race his boat kept up but at Duke's Meadow bend a strong tide-pull stole the gain. At Chiswick, with Oxford nearly four lengths behind, the crews settled down to the hardest rowing of the race. At Barnes Bridge, Oxford made its final challenge. The stroke went up, 32 to Cambridge's 30, and the Dark Blue boat gained a length. But Cambridge met the challenge and the race was won--by 4 1/2 lengths at the finish, twelfth victory for Cambridge in twelve years.

For the 500,000 Londoners who view the boat race each year, Oxford is a sentimental favorite. Cambridge's monotonous victories are always due to "magic." This year the magic was stranger than usual. Oxford, with the heaviest boat in history (183 lb.), outweighed Cambridge 3 lb. to a slide. Oxford's 200-lb. No. 4, P. R. S. Bankes, who rowed so hard in practice that he broke five oars, was given an oar with a half inch less leverage and a 6-inch blade. Furthermore, by a sporting arrangement which U. S. rowing coaches would find strange. Peter Haig-Thomas, whom experts held responsible for the string of Cambridge victories, this year changed sides, coached the Oxford boat.

When the race was over last week, the lighter Cambridge crew paddled nonchalantly to their boathouse. It took Oxford's portly, tired oarsmen ten minutes to find strength enough to follow. Said G. M. Nickals, an Oxford Blue in the winning boat of 1923: "They reverted to all the faults which have been the bane of Oxford rowing for ten years."

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