Quintin head marked the first race of 2025! With beautiful weather - sunshine, no wind or rain - it was truly a race to remember.
Imperial boated 7 eights to race, 3 senior mens eights, 2 senior womens eights and 2 novice eights.
Lets look back and see how each crew lived the racing experience:
1st mens VIII, won Open Senior category, 5th overall:
After another winter of race cancellations, Quintin was our first chance to lay down a marker and see if hell week had really paid off. Having spent an hour rotting on reels, we set off, primed to do some damage. The paddle up was fairly uneventful, but we made sure to take some time to watch the other imperial eights play bumper cars, and Josh wondered who let all the care home residents out to play.
Turning onto the course, Kelvin was determined to start as close to Thames as possible. We settled into a strong, racey rhythm and fairly soon we had contact, passing them at the crossover by the island, just in time for our power 10. Unfortunately it was around this point at which about half the crew blew, but we had more scalps to take, as the London eight were also being slow, and we had caught them up aswell.
Their line around the final bend was questionable, and Kelvin politely and calmly voiced these opinions to them over his microphone. Luckily there were no clashes, and we edged in front through to the line, which no one seemed to know the exact location of. As kindly pointed out by a marshal, “you’ve already finished, you know”.
1st in Op Seniors, and 5th overall, a fairly strong result to begin the season. Onwards.
2nd mens VIII, 4th in Open Senior category, 14th overall:
They say the 2nd VIII is meant to play second fiddle, but at Quintin Head, we smashed that stereotype faster than our blades hit the water. Flying down the Tideway, we delivered a performance so quick it had the 1st VIII nervously checking their splits.
From start to finish, we were electric. The stroke set a rhythm that could power the national grid, the middle six pulled like their lives depended on it, and the bow pair kept us on course (mostly). Our cox? A tactical mastermind whose calls could motivate a rock.
When the times came in, disbelief turned to pride. We were basically as fast as the 1st VIII—and, honestly, probably looked better doing it.
To the 1st VIII: watch your backs. To everyone else: we’re coming for you. Bring on the next race!
3rd mens VIII, 7th in Open Inter 1, 52nd overall:
The ICBC 3V: a boat which is 22% cox, 89% ICBC, and 100% Bus. A crew so competitive that, in the run up to Quintin, it witnessed a seat race for 2-seat and three up-and-coming coxes being binned before its final race-ready iteration was reached. Things were looking good for the 3V…
Training focussed on the advanced oarsmanship skills of ‘balance’ and ‘finishing together’. Several training pieces showed that this was a crew that was very serious about the pre-race taper; this was demonstrated by the fact that boat only moved in the last quarter of the piece, or whenever Pete was shouting at us.
Race day rolled around and a starting position between the Lea 1V and City of Oxford 1V caused a great degree of worry among the crew of the 3V. We knew now was the time to lock in and commit. As we wound through Chiswick Bridge, Jack ‘silk merchant’ Skinner fired into action. ‘I’m liking this rhythm’ remarked genuine ICBC cox Eima ‘the GOAT’ Miyasaka. The next 11:54.97 minutes saw the 3V fly along the course and leave Lea in the dust. With the crew motivated by coxing calls that varied between legendary and guttural noises reminiscent of ‘***’, we quickly closed the lead on Oxford. A final shout of ‘this bend is the property of Imperial College’ cemented the result of the dogfight and the 3V drew level as we passed under Hammersmith bridge to reach the finish.
The 3V had done it; pushing to the line and moving as one for a day of good racing.
1st womens VIII, 5th in Womens Champ, 108th overall :
The women’s 1st VIII did the only high-performance thing there is to do on race day: get into marshalling position as late as possible so as not to get cold before the race starts. Warm legs fast legs, as they say. And the legs were fast. Faster than the Headington schoolgirls we were desperate to beat, at least (until we were hit with a 10s time penalty for being late to the start…).
London B started right on our stern, which made for an exciting race. Zara settled us onto her usual lovely rhythm and we raced towards Fulham Reach, sometimes getting more clear water on London B, sometimes losing a bit of ground. Either way, Savindu’s killer line blocked any attempt they made to push past us.
After a push off Barnes and a technical reset at the bandstand, we made our way to the straight along the island and towards Latymer. At this point, many of us felt the end was near. It turns out Latymer is actually still quite a long way from the Fulham Reach pontoon. Nonetheless we made a good move off St Paul’s and Hammersmith Bridge, desperate to get back to the boathouse before the men ate all of Karen’s iconic chilli and banana bread (we made it in time, don’t worry).
For anyone within a 5 mile radius of the boathouse as we landed, you may have heard a Scottish voice shouting: “Guys guess what, I RACED WITHOUT LEGGINGS ON!! Time for a celebratory Monster”. (ICBC does not condone the consumption of such beverages)
2nd womens VIII, 10th in Womens Inter 2, 217th overall:
All behold - the exquisite women’s 2V. With Pete laser-focussed on capturing cinematic masterpieces of the men’s crews and women’s 1V, one might wonder: “Wait … there was a women’s 2V out there?” Indeed there was. Though even the novices had long since departed, we were clapped out by exactly one person. But not just any person - our beloved Aksel. Aksel did not merely clap, but sent us off with such unbridled enthusiasm that it practically powered our boat down the course. To Aksel, the only one who saw our greatness before anyone else: we heard you, we love you, and we rowed for you.
With a slight shortage of women in the squad, the 2V was blessed by two fire alumni and a delightful newcomer from Shrewsbury school. Anna, an ICBC rower turned emergency cox, proved to have impeccable coxing instincts - though perhaps not the best technique for keeping her jacket out of the Thames. But no matter. Our boat had so much potential that even the E. coli wanted to join the ride. Stroke seat stroked until her hands bled, while Arabella, seat 6, and Meabh, seat 5, absolutely sent it. We gracefully maneuvered the race course, fueled by Aksel’s unwavering support.
We finished the race with an adrenaline high and returned to the boathouse with flawless rhythm, balance, and the swagger of a crew that had just pulled off something special. As if guided by fate, Miriam, aka ‘M Dawg’, and Caitlin, the squad’s squatting master, gifted the 2V the sacred 14:14pm wish. And lo and behold, it worked: the women’s 2V overtook a staggering 41(!) places (from our original seeding).
To Aksel: thank you for believing in us, your faith shall not be forgotten. To the rest of you clowns: watch out. This is only the beginning for the superb women of the 2V.
Novice mens VIII, 7th in Open Dev, 136th overall:
Race day began with some bad news, our stroke was out due of injury. Fortunately one of the reserves showed up which allowed us baot an 8. After one long hour of waiting in the cold (BRRR) and cheering for the other imperial boats, it was our turn to race. We passed Chiswick bridge and our first race ever began !! Our plan was to stay at sr26, but it was the first time our stroke was at this position and he struggled to lower the rate. We therefore spent our race between 27-29 sr/min so it was difficult to put power on at every stroke. One minute into the race we hear our cox swearing (quite a lot), we had no clue what was about to happen.
Suddenly, our oars hit the first green buoy which stopped us completely and we had to set the pace again. We then overtook Bristol and arrived at a UCL boat which didn’t let us through. Once their cox finally decided to move, we felt a good rhythm in the boat and felt that we were going fast. We kept pushing with some good motivation from our cox and caught up to the St. Paul’s boat. At this point the sync in the boat was good and each stroke was powerful. We then arrived to Hammersmith bridge for the final push at sr 32 and thought we still had one minute to go but the finish line was closer than we thought! With that we arrived at the finish line and our first race was over.
Novice womens VIII, 18th in Womens Dev, 275th overall:
The first race day. A mix of excitement and that strange feeling you get when you’re about to do something completely outside of your comfort zone. The gym was packed with the entire squad, all in our Imperial blue and white – a scene that was both exhilarating and slightly overwhelming. Launching the boat was a unique experience, everyone was a bundle of nervous energy, hitting the boat, cheering each other on – it was incredibly infectious. I was coxing, and was determined to try my best to guide us to a respectable position (let’s be real, outranking the senior women’s boat was unlikely).
Then we hit marshalling – and things got wild! It was like navigating a flotilla of rogue watercraft. Imagine rush hour in London, only on the River Thames and with almost zero rules. Apparently, it's every boat for themselves. And yes, we did crash four times enroute. The girls kept me alive with a chorus of "Boat approaching!" warnings – a symphony of controlled panic.
After what felt like a mini-marathon of marshalling, we were FINALLY ready to race! The moment we got the go-ahead, the girls erupted. All the steering tips I’d learned from Aksel, Henry, Kelvin and Adam? Completely forgotten, replaced by pure instinct and the burning desire to stay on the course. And those girls flew. Then came the crossing. Two rebel boats decided to ignore the rules and try to cut us off, my heart nearly leaped out of my throat. I made the call: full speed ahead. We emerged unscathed, a new sense of hope brewing. We made it! We could do this! We kept pushing, as we went around Hammersmith bend, they cranked it up to 28 strokes a minute, and the cheers got louder! I knew that our first finish line was within our reach!
Crossing that finish line was an amazing feeling, a surge of pride and accomplishment washing over us. We did it! Quinton was a challenge, but it showed us that we are stronger together, that we can achieve more than we ever thought we could individually. It’s a day I won't be forgetting anytime soon, a reminder of the incredible things we can achieve when we push ourselves and support each other.
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