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Talkin points
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By Neil Lewis
Talkin Tarn Regatta, Brampton, 7 July 2001
Conditions: Dry and warm with flat water. Sidewind across head of course in morning. Probably their largest entry ever.
From the Hexham Courant:
Lola breasts the waves.
Last Saturday Hexham Rowing Club descended on Brampton's Talkin Tarn for a bit of a paddle about in the Tarn rowing club's annual regatta. The weather was nice. Lots of birds and flying insects did their thing and the lake was shallow at the edges. But the only HRC winners were Mulholland and Jaconelli, we congratulate them, and that was that really. We loaded up and came home. And that's what I call gripping copy. It's not rude, it's put nobody down, but what an insipid lot we seem.
We're not of course, we're a club like any other, with our successes and failures, supporters and knockers, and have a huge potential, after all there's always Berwick Regatta on 18 August. Our sport is open to all people of all ages, combines grace, elegance, determination and athleticism (so the books say), and brings one closer to nature.
At the moment, Mulholland is providing a lot of the age and most of our grace. His technique and power are the best amongst us, and now he has bought a boat, a Lola single scull, made by the racing car manufacturers of the same name. It is beautiful, and in a psychological master-stroke he's named it after his wife.
"Darling, I take thoughts of you everywhere I go now" he says, as he leaves home for the umpteenth row of the week thus avoiding the gardening. Well he could hardly say
"I'm just off for a session with Lola" could he? He shares the boat with his son Charlie, so it could equally have been called "Mum" I suppose.
For determination and athleticism you need look no further than Brown and Christer, but for the winner in their straight final you needed to look for Yarm School. Talkin Tarn being a lake, allows for multi-lane racing, and mis-hearing that they might be racing four abreast, their vivid imaginations made it difficult for them to focus on the task in hand. It was the most exciting race of the day though, and all finishers were within half a boat length of each other. The guys can take great heart from this for our next campaign into the borders.
Racing on open water like the Tarn, nature has you at its mercy. Two years ago it rained torrentially, and Brown famously turned blue as a result. On Saturday, mother N toyed with us still. A susurrating side wind from the south-west gently created waves and for the unwary changed your course without you knowing it. All warning shouts as you hurtled towards the landing stages rather than the finish line, you thought to be shouts of support in a close race. That's if you got that far after suffering monumental and debilitating blood loss from midge bites. Personally, I was put off my all important first stroke by two conjoined dragon flies of the most beautiful turquoise hue, who appeared in front of me at the moment of the starter's shouted "Go!" My opponent, a child from a school in Liverpool was off, never to be seen again. He was built like a brick outbuilding I assure you, and at that age young men simply don't appreciate this country's incredible wildlife. At Berwick next month, it's swans on a tidal river! (Please note advance excuses).
Previously published by Hexham Courant
07 Jul 2001
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