Cranbury resident tells what it’s like to row, row, row your boat for the first time
By: Euna Brossman
In recent weeks, several Cranbury residents have made a big splash in the world of high school rowing by qualifying for the national meet. They had to start somewhere, of course, and this past Saturday Cranbury’s Euna Kwon Brossman discovered just where the journey begins.
Ms. Brossman, who admits she is well past high school, decided to take advantage of a rowing clinic at Mercer Lake, and offered to document her first time at the oars for The Cranbury Press. She not only survived, but we’re proud to say she listened to orders and did not drown. Here is her account.
I have always embraced life with the philosophy that it is good to try new things and even better to learn something in the process, which is why I signed up immediately for the Princeton National Rowing Association’s first National Learn to Row Day. The event took place at the Finn M.W. Caspersen Boathouse at Mercer Lake in Princeton Junction.
I did not let anything deter me, including the fact that at the age of 47, I am a great deal older than your average beginning rower, and that at the height of 5-foot, 2 inches, I am almost a solid foot shorter than many female rowers. What I lack in height, I figured, I would make up with attitude.
I had a bit more knowledge about rowing than the typical neophyte. My daughter, a high school senior, started rowing with the PNRA’s Mercer Junior Rowing Club her sophomore year. Though she had dabbled with soccer, dance and almost everything else that a typical kid in this area tries growing up, nothing clicked like crew. It has given her a work ethic that is unbelievable and a hard core strength and determination that you wish you could bottle because you could make millions.
As the club’s publicity parent, I’ve been writing about rowing over the last few years. In fact, I recently had an article published in Rowing News, the publication of record for the rowing world. My daughter made me take the assignment because she wanted me to interview the hot male rowers who train at our boathouse. The Caspersen Training Center, a training facility for the U.S. National Rowing Team, was recently designated by the U.S. Olympic Committee as an official training site.
One benefit of rowing out of Caspersen is the opportunity to train at the same place where the nation’s top rowers are getting ready for the 2008 Beijing Olympics. Another benefit is the view, and I am not referring just to the scenery at Mercer Lake.
I was joined for Learn to Row Day by some other MJRC parents. Seems that great minds think alike. After years of watching our children from the sidelines, we were ready to put the pedal to the metal, or in this case, the oar to the water.
Jeremy Ivey, the PNRA’s Masters coach, started with the basics. I never knew that you could not step on the bottom of the boat because your foot could smash right through the delicate material. He also talked about balancing the boat and how tipping was rare but a possibility. The thought of being upside down in the water with my feet strapped in was not particularly comforting, especially since my editor had joshed me with a cheerful, "don’t drown!" before I took on my assignment.
Jeremy explained the difference between rowing port and rowing starboard. Since I would be rowing port, my oar would be located to my right in the water. This was very confusing, because to me, port means left, which seemed like my oar should be going to the left. But because of the boat’s direction, with the athletes rowing backwards, port was actually to my right and the boat’s left.
At this point, I stopped trying to figure it out because my head started swimming and I started feeling dizzy. It occurred to me that rowing had to be the only sport where athletes move backwards at breakneck speed. The only buffer between them and calamity is the coxswain, who steers and is the one person in the boat facing the right direction.
We moved to the workout room and onto the erg machines, which most rowers consider necessary but evil instruments of torture. Every rower wants a lower erg score, which measures speed and strength. I thought my score fairly respectable, until I asked Jeremy to translate and it came up one fourth the speed of an Olympic athlete. Sigh!
Momentarily daunted, I eagerly moved on to the pay-off portion of the program getting into the boat and taking it out on the water. Beginners were sandwiched in the middle with experienced rowers, the children, at the bow and stern.
I felt a small lump in my throat as I thought about how we had taught these children how to walk, and now, they were teaching us how to row. It was one of those circles of life that loops around, comes together and makes something about the world feel just right.
I loved being out on the water and the awesome sensation of gliding along with seven other people working together. The fact that we were moving somewhat in a zigzag across the lane markers did not faze me one bit, nor did the fact that a child one-third my age would chide me with an occasional, "Mrs. Brossman, lift your oar out of the water, or Mrs. Brossman, try to watch the rower in front of you."
I know I will never be an Olympic rower, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t have fun with this fabulous sport. I will enjoy my daughter’s races even more and be able to write about rowing with greater depth and understanding. I discovered that rowing is a great metaphor for life and the importance of teamwork and cooperation. Put a group of people in a boat in the middle of a lake and you have to work together if you want to go anywhere.
It’s something to think about.

