Oarsome pulling power

When Whitby's century-old swing bridge refused to budge and cut the town in half, the response invoked the Dunkirk spirit – at a price. The flotilla which came to the rescue charged stranded townfolk and visitors 1-a-head to cross the harbour. Highway robbery? Piracy more like, wailed some.

Among Whitby boatmen, there were notable exceptions who declined to cash-in as temporary ferry operators. John Eglon and Barry Brown could have employed their oars in a nice little earner, but they didn't. It would have been a costly diversion from sporting tradition, and for these men no commercial opportunity is worth that price.

They are rival captains of clubs that represent one of Yorkshire's oldest duels. The Vikings might have done it first, but in a formalised way, rowers have been racing each other along the coast since the 19th century. The highlight of their season is competing in Whitby Regatta, the longest-established in the country and now celebrating its 170th year.

In its early days, the spectacle reflected the times. Coal miners and shipyard workers from the North-East rowed fishing cobles against those of local mariners and jet industry employees. The contests were given a sharper edge by betting on the outcome.

Characters with names like Shafto Richardson, Burton Verrill, Simeon Robinson and Teasdale Wilson dominated the show on what was still known to many as the German Ocean.

Today, many of the cultures which spawned the competing organisations are as redundant as territorial claims on the North Sea. Only three clubs remain to do annual battle on the traditional course between Sandsend and the finishing line just downstream of Whitby's temperamental bridge – Scarborough Amateur Rowing Club, Whitby Friendship ARC, and Whitby Fishermen's ARC, better known as the Fisherlads club.

Whitby's crews are in the ascendancy at the moment and their rivalry couldn't be keener. Even on land there's no avoiding each other. Their headquarters almost adjoin on the quayside, their respective trophy cabinets a gleaming testament to decades of dedication and muscle power which they insist can't be acquired in a gym.

John Eglon, of the Friendship, claims that for all their Olympic medals, those rowing knights, Sir Steve Redgrave and Sir Matthew Pinsent, would struggle to keep up with some of his members offshore.

"Our fixed-seat rowing is a different kettle of fish from their sliding-seat version," says Eglon, fish being an appropriate term for an ex-trawlerman.

"Each involves a distinctive technique. Handling oars on the sea isn't the same as working them on a river or lake. There's also a contrast in boat design, and the physical demands differ. Our kind of rowing uses the upper body more. In a nutshell, we use the same muscles but in a different way.

"We've seen the outcome. An Olympic rower, Wade Hall-Craggs, was with us for a while and he struggled to adapt to our sport. Fair play to the lad, he wasn't with our strongest crew at the time, but he acknowledged that sea rowing is very different to what he was used to."

This is not deterring new recruits. Membership ebbs and flows and, in Whitby, newcomers tend to choose the club which has previous family connections. The two clubs each have about 100 rowers – teachers, scaffolders, electricians and a senior police officer reflect the social mix.

In the Friendship's case, the age range is from 12 to the club president, who is 70 this year. The club was founded in 1879 and in terms of sex equality, it was enlightened for the times. A ladies' section was formed in 1898. In a race half a century later, they were eclipsed by "that lot next door" whose crew of four included 71-year-old Agnes Griffin at stroke, "setting a fine example with her rhythmic and stylish rowing" to her daughter, aged 40, and the others, according to a report on the race.

For the youngsters who are joining the clubs today in growing numbers, it's an education in several ways. They learn that Friendship's 27ft rowing boat, Challenger, was manufactured by craftsmen at Eton College 25 years ago. It's clinker-built in mahogany – a design trusted by generations.

In contrast, marine ply is being used for the latest addition to the fleet. This is being made in Whitby and will cost 10,000 to accommodate a cox and four oarsmen or women.

There are rituals to maintain. Each December, club officials meet to study the tide tables for the coming year and plan their events around the forces of nature.

They are at the mercy of the weather. As Eglon explains: "We don't mind rowing into the wind, but you can forget it when there's a north-easterly and it's blowing straight into the harbour. The wind and sea do unexpected things to try to catch you out. The decision on whether to row is made by the club captains and sometimes the conditions involve a fine judgment. If you can see white water, it's a fair guide you shouldn't go out there."

When they do, tensions in the boats can be fierce. They are fuelled by locals on the piers and quaysides supporting their favourites, wearing red, blue or black and gold. "Years ago, the old lasses were the noisiest."

Barry Brown has seen and heard plenty as a competitor over 37 years. His club is the Fisherlads', and it could hardly be any other way. Barry and one of his two brothers – all of them rowers – are the fifth generation of the family to run Fortune's Kippers in Henrietta Street. When the wind's right, you can smell the smokehouse at the other venue in his life.

Kippers and rowing. Both are enduring passions in Whitby and Barry is delighted that more boys and girls are taking up the sport. It's no soft option. The season's training begins in early April and usually involves three nights a week throughout the summer, plus competitions.

"We have some 10-year-olds now," said Barry. "You know how it is with kids – one or two join and that encourages others. It's an honest-to-goodness sport and works on several levels for the young 'uns. They discover the pleasure of being at sea on a lovely evening, and the satisfaction of knowing they're making a boat move pretty smartly through their own efforts.

"It calls for personal discipline and teamwork. In a rowing boat at sea, you learn fast about responsibility and respect for an adult who's an experienced cox and making the big decisions.

"It's also a heck of a way of getting and staying fit. Put all that together, and let's be right, it's better than staring at a computer screen and pressing buttons."

Whitby Regatta, August 21-23. The rowing events involve various age groups and categories. Also yacht racing, a raft race, fun run, free attractions onshore and Red Arrows display. www.whitbyregatta.co.uk

The great day when the fishermen of Whitby rowed into history

One of the most famous rowing races on the Yorkshire coast was held on September 11, 1866 – "the greatest coble race of all time locally", claims a book on the subject. It involved a four-man crew of miners from Blyth, in Northumberland, rowing the Temperance Star, and four Staithes fishermen aboard Jane.

Blyth boasted of their champion rowers, one of whom was said to be "as strong as Hercules, equal to any three ordinary men". The fishermen were considered underdogs in the 10-mile contest between Staithes and Whitby bridge, for which a staggering prize was at stake – 200 (worth more than 86,000 in today's money). The Blyth men had rowed in races "and were versed in the tactics of aquatic struggles. The fishermen had never rowed a race, and had probably never dreamt of rowing a race. But they had on their side this supreme advantage: they were perfectly at home on the sea, they knew how to make the best way of wind and tide, and, in riding the billows, they were as perfectly at ease as any gull or duck".

And so it proved. When they rounded Rock Buoy, just off Whitby, the fishermen led by more than a minute, and by the time they reached harbour, they'd eased up but still finished 200 yards ahead.

As the victors did a jig on the cobblestones of the quay, a lesson had been taught. "These Staithes fishermen were literally born to the sea, the coble was their cradle, and their whole life was spent in wresting a living from the sea, which oft-times in sudden storm tested their endurance to the utmost. What better training could be wished for in preparation for a long-distance race…"

And now each of the victors had the equivalent of almost 22,000 burning a hole in his pocket.

YP MAG 14/8/10