The Boys in the Boat ~ Daniel James Brown
This is an extraordinarily human, well researched, developed and delivered non-fiction account of the Washington rowing eight who, after much toil and against some heavy odds, won Olympic gold in 1936, in Berlin.
There are three main threads to this tale; central to the story and to the sport itself, is a gentleman named George Yeoman Pocock who in 1911 emigrated first from England to Canada and then to the USA and who was an absolute master of his craft â building racing shells â beautiful cedar wood vessels, handmade to perfection. His father, who taught him the trade, was a boatbuilder at Eton College. George also developed a highly effective rowing style that saw him winning some sculling events, but his ultimate strength was in the philosophy he imparted to his customers along with his impeccable boats â his company is still going, to this day, but Iâm glad he died before seeing the transition to carbon fibre and such â as practical as it may be, there is just less grace in synthetic materials, IMHO; coaxing a true line and strength out of mere millimetres of wood is an exceedingly fine art. There is a Pocock quote at the beginning of each chapter of the book; I like this one (reference to Boeing is that in the depression, when there was no demand for boat shells, he and his brother had built pontoons for Mr Boeing and it turned out later that part of their payment was in company stocks) â¦
âMy ambition has always been to be the greatest shell builder in the world; and without false modesty, I believe I have attained that goal. If I were to sell the (Boeing) stock, I fear I would lose my incentive and become a wealthy man, but a second rate artisan. I prefer to remain a first-class artisan.â
One of the main reasons this book is so engaging is the primary thread (although they are woven simultaneously throughout) - the quite harrowing insight into the early life of one of the crew members, Joe Rantz, who was pretty much abandoned and left to fend for himself as a very young boy and his struggle to overcome the resultant challenges which were immense, on all levels. Against the backdrop of the great depression and the dustbowl era, everyone was affected in some way, and in fact, all the boys in the boat came from working class backgrounds, but Rantz, although he never felt sorry for himself, really had an extra tough time of it. The author got to spend quite a bit of time with him before he died, talking about this event, and Joeâs life, so the book offers first-hand information along with anecdotal inputs from his granddaughter who has kept the history alive.
Underlying all the above was the simmering threat of the Third Reich and thinking about it now, itâs actually astonishing that anyone went to the Berlin games at all. Then again, the Naziâs contrived such a good PR job (with the help of filmmaker Leni Riefenstal, which Brown expands on a bit), that anyone attending and who didnât pay attention, wouldnât have had a clue that anything untoward was on the brew. They removed all the anti-Jewish publications from the newspaper stands, stealthily hid evidence of atrocities and dissent, and presented the image of what appeared to be a healthy and happy Germany united behind their heroic leader.
The American boys were housed in old police barracks and the Germans also engineered all sorts of disturbances to prevent them from getting proper rest, for example â parades in the middle of the night, etc., and then for the race itself, they stuck them in the outermost lane where the water was choppiest and conditions least favourable, while themselves taking Lane One, closest to the shore and infinitely more favourable; also totally contrary to accepted protocols within the sport. When you read the book, you definitely get a picture in your mind of how that race went, but when I looked up a clip, it was quite shocking to hear the noise, which I hadnât imagined would be quite so loud â chants of âSieg Heilâ being predominant. The Washington boys had to row with one deathly sick man at stroke, they were badly positioned, and they had a Jewish coxswain. Hitler must have been delighted!
A great, feelgood read (apart from the teeny tiny print in my edition) that draws lovely portraits of characters, taciturn coaches and all, and which really illustrates the indomitable human spirit. It was a wonderful break from the present shedloads of bad behaviour and general global insanity. I loved it.