“We oldies worked hard, with determination and sheer bloody-mindedness, to assert ‘Cambridge Women’s Right to Row’ – so get out there now, kick ass, and continue to make us proud, whatever Oxford and the Tideway may throw at you.”
“I was privileged to arrive just as the first 3 men’s Colleges were admitting some women for the first time. This precipitated an explosion in women’s rowing, with more people taking it up each year…”
“When I came up to Newnham in 1972 I thought I’d have a try at rowing, knowing that my aunt, then Ann Godwin, had also rowed when she’d been at Newnham. It was only recently that I discovered that – like me – she’d rowed against Oxford in all of her 3 years at Cambridge (1946 – 1948).
I was privileged to arrive just as the first 3 men’s Colleges were admitting some women for the first time. This precipitated an explosion in women’s rowing, with more people taking it up each year, and a consequent improvement in the standard. Little did we think, as we struggled past the gas works at 6am in our unflattering baggy men’s shorts and cotton singlets, that 50 years later we would be coming to watch such professional crews, tall and elegant in their lycra.
We shall enjoy coming to watch you practising on the Friday before your race, and wish you the very best of luck for the Sunday!”
The 1975 Men
words from Nick Bradley
“Of course, you learn far more about yourself from a set back and trying again than ever did the gifted demi god who wins everything first time.”
Video credit AP Archive
“Some grit from Ollie Boyne. What a humble person it takes to keep offering yourself to the Club, to be pipped agonisingly three times – and even when President. Either that, or he just loves coxing!
Of course, you learn far more about yourself from a set back and trying again than ever did the gifted demi god who wins everything first time. That said, how pleased I was to have a second shot and win in 1975, having lost pretty badly stroking a slow crew on my 21st birthday in 1974.
I had come up as the sixth oarsman in my family to row for Pembroke – and we each had our stories. My father and his four brothers had preceded me. Two were Blues – Jack and Malcolm. Jack stroked the 1934 crew, 40 years before I stroked mine. He pioneered the Harrods push, raising his rate by four pips and cruising away from Oxford with some style. I was expected to do the same, but it was never going to happen. Jack was president in 1935, then broke his leg skiing over Christmas, and couldn’t row in the race. Malcolm lost in 1937 to a fast Oxford crew. My dad, who later won the Grand, Stewards, Double Sculls and an Olympic bronze, only did a term and a half, got his Trial Cap, then left to serve in the Navy in 1939. Fred was a sculler; and Jim gave up rowing to fly aeroplanes. So I felt in one sense completely at home, in another under some serious pressure to live up to their reputations.
It was touch and go though in ’75. I was a Blue, sitting in what was the probable Goldie crew in February, feeling distinctly hangdog, preparing myself to do lots of explaining. I was doing medicine, skipping all afternoon practicals for the second year running, and wondering if this was sensible. A school friend of mine who had set his heart on a Blue was also in the Goldie crew. Seeing the writing on the wall, he quit that February. The Blue Boat was fast, with four future British Olympic oarsmen, and a very powerful American from Dartmouth, the President, at five. I was resigned to sucking up what I felt was an ignominious come down. I was Hon Sec. A rumbling, just tangible sense of doing the correct, Corinthian thing; and the rowing tradition of sticking in for the others in the crew kept me going. It hadn’t occurred to me, in that self-centred mindset that takes over in training, that there were hundreds of young men who would have given their eye teeth to do exactly what I was doing on every one of those winter afternoons at Ely.
Then, the seven man in the Blue Boat got glandular fever. My close friend at Pembroke, Henry Clay, later to win an Olympic silver in the British VIII, swapped to bow side to allow me to sneak in at two (I was never ambidextrous). Had my school friend still been available, he would have gone straight in at bow, and I’d have stayed where I was. From that moment, training was a complete joy, and the race was a breeze. Our eight was a wooden Stämpfli. Our wooden oars were made by Jerry Sutton, but they had a black carbon fibre strip stuck along their trailing edge – the first-time carbon fibre was employed. And we wore what we considered to be ultra cool, black T shirts, bearing the lion badge, under our white piped vests.
Vainglory and having to win have always been a Boat Race risk. I know people who have never got over losing a Boat Race, especially if they never had the chance to win one. I know too of many others for whom their Boat Race was a defining – for the better- moment in their lives. It took me a long time to be comfortable with people not knowing I was a Blue. Now I pride myself on having some close, local friends of over 40 years who have no idea about my rowing past. I keep my oars upstairs on the landing; and friends come sailing with me instead.
I don’t need to tell you what you have learned and how you have grown from this marvellous, rare opportunity. Good luck on 13 April.
With very best wishes, Nick Bradley
P to M – Stick it.”
The 2000 Women
words from Caroline Ng, on behalf of the whole crew
“Of course we race to win – but it is the experience and the people that shape you and will stay with you. And this year, our Blue Boat crew of 2000 is getting together to watch you race, and to share the thrill and memories of your boat race day.”
“To the Blue Boat 2025, from the crew of 2020,
It might be a quarter of a century, but it feels like the blink of an eye, since we were sitting on the start line, in a light blue lycra with a red stripe. Feeling proud, yet nervous, steadying the breath, relaxing the shoulders, anticipating the hard work and burning muscles to come. Of course we race to win – but it is the experience and the people that shape you and will stay with you. And this year, our Blue Boat crew of 2000 is getting together to watch you race, and to share the thrill and memories of your boat race day.
The women’s boat race has come a long way in 25 years. Steps towards equality with the men’s race were hard won and so it is gratifying to see you now race on the same course, on equal terms, and with matching expectations. We expect the fire in your bellies is even greater!
You should all be incredibly proud of what you have already achieved. The hours of effort and commitment, the strength and the skills that you have built, the teamwork and the individual effort have brought you up to this moment, when you are brave enough to compete, to represent Cambridge and to be tested.
Your friends, family and alumni near and far will be cheering you on as you race, knowing that you will give your all.
We wish you all the very best of luck. You are ready for this. Go smash it!”
