Geoffrey Underhill (DPhil Politics, 1980)
Late one cold, October night in 1981, Stuart Lane (who would succeed me as Captain two years later) and I were painting the college crest on new blades at Timm’s Boathouse at Longbridges on the Isis (owned by Hertford College; damaged by arson in 2005 and since rebuilt). I had founded St Antony’s College Boat Club (SACBC) that autumn and was to coach the first ever (men’s) novice crew which was entered in the Christ Church Regatta of Michaelmas Term 1981. We had to hurry: we had purchased a second-hand VIII from Wadham, the Winnie-the-Pooh, and I had bought a set of new ‘seconds’ blades – we could not afford the best – but oars required the college colours as identification before we could train and compete on the river. The original blades design was a dark blue background with the College crest centred so that it flashed as the blades ‘squared’ and cut into the water. I had made two uniform templates we used to paint first the yellow background of the crest, then the red crosses and chevron (sorry, the three stars were left out).
When I matriculated for my MLitt/DPhil in October 1980, I was dismayed by the absence of a boat club at St Antony’s. How can an Oxford college not row? I had rowed for St John’s in Torpids and Eights in the spring of 1981, but despite my inter-varsity experience in Canada, it was clear they would never grant me, an outsider, a ‘real’ place in their men’s first VIII. The solution was to start from scratch and found SACBC, which is what I did.
We began training novices under my direction in June 1981 with a four borrowed from Wadham. Their Captain Tony was willing to lend, because we were considering purchasing the VIII they had up for sale. Tony, several fellow captains and Len, the Univ/OUBC boatman, spoke in favour of the shell. We raised funds from the SCR (a grand £120 if I remember), through fundraising events (including a ‘Toga Party’), and club membership fees of £25 per member per term. We had enough to buy Winnie-the-Pooh and the blades Stuart and I were painting that cold evening. We negotiated with Hertford a rented rack at Timms and so became part of the boathouse community there. Len of the old University College/then also OUBC boathouse (also destroyed by arson, this time in 1999, now rebuilt agreed to help us out piecemeal as our boatman and starter in bumps races. I obtained permission for the new club from the meeting of college boat club captains.
This was a financially precarious beginning, but it worked. The question was, would anyone in a relatively small postgraduate college of erudite mature students turn up to row? We began with a few afternoon lessons on ‘The Octolog’, a stable raft contraption with eight places one could borrow from the OUBC for novices so they learned to row together without having to ‘sit’ or balance a delicate racing shell, at risk of finding themselves in the water. There followed the first outing in Winnie-the-Pooh. We then planned to meet regularly, every weekday, at the Lodge at 6.00am, jog down to Timms and be on the river at 6.30am. This was not for the casually interested or faint-hearted. A boat club requires a full and unwavering commitment from each crew member. I might add that this exacted a great deal of time and effort on my part, which in turn did not expedite progress on my DPhil.
Fortunately Michaelmas terms 1980 and 1981 had seen an enlarged new cohort of matriculating college members. There were just enough adventurists to make a start; not everyone stayed the course after the Octolog sessions, but we had enough for an VIII. This included an experienced coxswain, Charles Powell, who had migrated to St Antony’s from University College to do his DPhil. Powell was invaluable – only Charles and I knew anything about rowing; the rest were complete novices whom we hoped knew how to swim. At least I would not need to worry about the likely navigational mishaps of a novice cox on the river for the first time. This also meant that we had no spares, so crew members would row whether feeling well enough or not.
We began training in mid/late October in preparation for Christ Church Regatta in seventh week of term, last week of November. The races were head-to-head elimination rounds, two crews against each other in a random draw like a tennis tournament. The regatta is aimed exclusively at novices and helps college boat clubs prepare for the ‘serious’ races in Hilary and Trinity terms. This is a cold, wet, and dark time of year in Oxford. The crew showed considerable fortitude and, better yet, promise. They won two races. Most importantly, the ‘Boat Club virus’ was infecting the college.
Our cox had a great stentorian voice, but shouting commands down the boat through a megaphone, electric or otherwise, had become old-fashioned. The club required a built-in speaker system in the racing shell, and that required more fundraising. We bought one and Len our boatman installed it. Charles could now speak calmly and intimately to all and each crew member in clear, crisp commands.
Most importantly, the club began recruiting the first ever Women’s crew for Torpids 1982. We began on the Octolog once again. There were more trialists than places, so some (minor) selection was required – and then we had a crew, once again with an experienced coxswain, Jane Corbett. She had migrated from Cambridge for postgraduate study and like Powell, was a godsend. They knew the ropes for the unique Oxbridge institution of bumps races and the on-river chaos that erupted when the starting gun sounded.
Audrey Kurth was the first women’s captain and kept the side up well all while learning herself. There was another addition to our club: through the network of captains and rowers on the river, where I spent a lot of time and St Antony’s was the newest club on the stretch, I found a coach to train the women: Adrian, who rowed for Worcester College first VIII, is all I remember of his name, but we have photographs of him. I must say that the college and the boat club fraternity at Oxford at the time was a warm and supportive community without which I and the club could not have succeeded. It was a great feeling to have joined them.
The men’s crew were the (now) veterans from Michaelmas term and I was again their coach. Both the men and the women ‘rowed on’ successfully and so qualified for the Torpids competition – numbers were limited in the two bottom or ‘open’ divisions. The starting position was determined by the rowing-on time results; crews that were too slow were eliminated. The top or ‘sandwich’ boat at the end of the regatta would be given a permanent position in the bottom ‘fixed’ division for the following year, whereas the bottom boat of the lowest fixed division drops down and are obliged to ‘row on’ next time around. Both crews made it at the first attempt.
Training for Torpids is also pretty miserable and cold. We would meet at the Lodge in the dark and the first hours of training typically required an electric torch at the bows so other coxes could see rivals coming. By the time we headed to the shower or classes, a dull dawn was slowly breaking. If we trained in the afternoon (eg Saturday, with Sundays off) dusk fell by four or four-thirty, darkness by five. It rained a lot, the river could be high and the current dangerous. Sometimes the red flag was up at the OUBC and crews were forbidden to train. One hoped for at least dry racing days and less current, because the races headed upriver, starting below Donnington Bridge, and proceeded through ‘the Gut’ curved narrows towards the broader open water in front of the college boat houses and the classic old OUBC, to finish just below Folly Bridge. If I remember correctly, each of our crews bumped up two positions, but not far enough to be ‘on the river’ next year. That wonderous accomplishment, making us a ‘real’ rowing college, happened after my departure. We had our first formal Boat Club dinner in the Fellows’ Dining Room, served by our Steward Fred and the college chef.
Summer Eights Week is the festival of rowing at Oxford. Students and parents turn up in summer regalia and, with luck, the sun shines. As far as I remember, it did so, and the river was at a reasonable level and current. The men’s crew were now good enough that I joined them in the ‘engine room’ at four. Charles Powell found us an excellent coach in Aidan Bunting (Univ). The women had one change of crew and Adrian continued to coach. Both boats again achieved bumps. There was another formal Boat Club Dinner. We went on to enter a men’s four in the Oriel Regatta that summer. St Antony’s College Boat Club was now one year old.
In November of 1982, I moved to Paris for fieldwork research on my DPhil thesis. I returned in January to coach for Torpids 1983 where we entered men’s and women’s crews again, after recruiting via Christ Church novice regatta. By the end of that academic year it was time for me to become serious about obtaining a doctorate. Stuart Lane took over as club captain, and Mary Wong had succeeded Audrey in October 1982 as our second women’s captain. At some stage just after or around the time I submitted my thesis and took up my first academic appointment in Scotland, I remember that dear old Winnie-the-Pooh suffered the fate of ‘going down the weir’. This was under the ‘guidance’ of a men’s crew and was not an event that evoked pride. There was about a two-year hiatus while the club regrouped and purchased another boat. St. Antony’s men and women are now well up in the higher divisions with permanent places on the river. The college now boats from New College Boat House, and puts up several crews in torpids and Eights each year. They have been awarded ‘Blades’ at least twenty-two times – which results from bumping up on all four days of the regatta.
I returned to Summer Eights in Trinity Term 2019 for the first time since my graduation, standing on the boat house balcony on the final Saturday to watch our SABC crews come in. During the College’s reunion of 1980s alumni in September 2018, we had celebrated and talked a good deal about the early years of the club. A number of the original crew members were present at the reunion. This resulted in an invitation from the SACBC captain (now ‘President’ Kateryna Marina) to the 2019 Summer Eights celebratory dinner, a tradition I had started. There were some 96 rowers present if I remember, the Hall was full, and I made a speech. No one fell asleep as far as I know. The college catering staff were singularly impressive in their efficiency in serving so many – to a great round of applause at the end.
When I think back to my professional and student life, with the possible exception of the forty-year contribution my university teaching and doctoral supervision has made to the future of young people, founding SACBC was my most important legacy. I thought little of it at the time. I just got on with it following my dismay that the college had no rowing, and handed the club over to others. Of course it would succeed! Had my successors not cared so much, that might not have proven the case. It remains the most important student association and activity in the college, and has made more young people happy, fit, and frequently rather triumphant, friends for life, than anything else I ever did.
Geoffrey Underhill, September 2025
