DW 2012

DW2012

Well, it’s over.

At least the overnight event is. As I write this the last leg of the four day event is underway and the participants are undergoing their own trials on the tideway of the Thames, but I feel for them as the weather is poor. Halfway between drizzle and rain, and cold. It’s not much fun out there.

Anyone who knows anything about the D-W will tell you that it is an event not to be taken lightly. As an interested spectator and part-time support crew, and having watched the events of the last couple of days unfold, I’ll try to leave out any misplaced flippancy in this account and confine myself to just recording the events as I saw them.

With the experience of last years try behind them, Wheezy and Ad’s attempt to finish this year, was probably better founded in a solid, full years training. Yours truly, and other dad John, had been conscripted to provide support, along with experienced Phil and Alex. The plan being for John and myself to provide support from Devizes to Reading, where we would hand over to Phil and Alex for the rest of the way during the overnight leg down the Thames.

Conscious of the need for things not to go wrong, John and I did put in a some time familiarising ourselves with the course, giving support on an earlier training run between Pewsey and Aldermaston. That run threw up a number of potential problems which we tried to iron out during the remaining time left to us. Mrs D and I carried out a further run through the course that included the two end bits we hadn’t covered previously, so although everything wasn’t fully resolved, we believed we had a good enough understanding of the course to be able to keep ahead of our crew and not screw up significantly.

This year there was another degree of difficulty added insofar as the high tide at Teddington occurs very early at 4.32 am, which effectively means that there’s a whole lot less time available to get there from even the earliest possible start. Going on timings taken on the practice run, I had calculated that we would need a minimum overall pace, including stops, of 4.5 miles per hour to make the Teddington ‘window’ at 6.30 am on Sunday morning. Working on the principle that we would make the earliest start possible at 7am Saturday, would make the target time at Teddington just about do-able, as long as nothing went wrong.

With the early tide window the organisers had arranged for some scrutineering to be carried out the evening before the start. As we needed all the time we could get, we took advantage of that arrangement and set off for Devizes on the Friday afternoon. Having checked into our overnight accommodation and after carrying out a couple of minor adjustments and prepping the boat, we sallied forth to Devizes Wharf and checked in, obtained our number, 371, and then watched for a while in amused silence, as Sir Steve Redgrave was well and truly scrutineered by all the remaining scrutineers. We had a very pleasant evening meal and a couple of pints of muscle relaxant, and an early night at ten-ish.

And so after a restless night with little sleep we were off to the start and ready to go by six-o-clock. We were early as we had anticipated a crowd of 7am starters. And it was busy, but not nearly as bad as we thought it might be. In fact scrutineering and launching carried on with a practiced and unhurried momentum. Full marks to the organisers as although the car park was full by seven, everything seemed to be going off rather well. Our crew were in the water and queued in third place for the off. In fact, they got their start within one minute after seven.

The weather was OK-ish but an all pervading 'mizzle' was going to make the going unpleasant for the first few miles. It would eventually brighten up and even provide a bit of blue sky around ten-o-clock. This was as good as it got, but it was a false promise and the weather finally settled into very overcast, but not quite raining for much of the day. We, support that is, left Devizes just after seven and with the satnav programmed for Honeystreet, went to work.

As we were ahead of the pack, parking at Honeystreet was OK, with only a few other support cars already there. Our crew came in almost 15 minutes ahead of our schedule and clearly going too fast at such an early point were flushed from the exertion. Watered and fed they were on their way again within a minute and with an encouragement to get into a more sustainable pace. Clearly they had to get into a rhythm which wasn’t going to lead to a blow-up, or having to pay later for a way-too-fast, early pace.

By Pewsey they were settled into a more manageable pace. In fact their time from Honeystreet to Pewsey was right on the estimated button, but with the 15 minutes gained still in hand. Another watering and feeding to keep the energy levels up for later went smoothly as John and I also slipped into our rhythm of changing water bottles, pushing in bite sized sandwiches, and even remembering to ask what was required at the next stop. After seeing the crew on their way, our routine on return to the car, was to refill bottles and select sweet or savoury into separate food boxes ready for the next stop in case we were delayed on route.

The route to Wootton Rivers is a bit circuitous and practice of the route paid dividends here. But there proved to be a bit of a problem to park. All available spaces were already taken by the time we arrived, and we were forced to find a spot at the far end of the village. The crew were now maintaining the schedule and the meet-up clicked into place.

Our next appointed meet was supposed to be at the end of the Crofton Flight. Pre-race briefing mentioned easy parking at a new car park at the centre of the flight, which is the pumping station. But as our crew intended to run the full stretch of locks we had chosen the end of the flight so that their rhythm wouldn't be broken up. Coupled with that, we had identified this as best parking in a short side-road, adjacent to the lock/rail crossing. However, when trying to pass the centre of the flight at the pumping station we found out from marshalls that that the road we wanted was closed off to us. So, we had to opt where we were. Luckily it turned out to be no real hardship and worked well enough, even though our crew were surprised to be met over half a mile early.

Froxfield, Dunmill, and Kintbury all passed without incident and the crew arrived pretty much on the button, were fed, watered and carried on. My biggest concern, Newbury, was next and I would gladly have left this stop out if there had been a reasonable alternative. Finding a car parking space in a major shopping centre, on a bank holiday Saturday afternoon, seemed like a recipe for disaster. Trouble is, that access to the canal is fairly limited on either side and it would have meant an unduly long stint from one side or the other. As it turned out, it took about 20 minutes to find a space, luckily within a hundred yards of the wharf, so we were still able to meet the crew on time.

Our previous troubles at Aldermaston on the practice run with closed roads and diversions didn’t re-materialise, and the next stop at Theale, where we had to find our way using the local road signs to the Kennet museum, also passed without incident. So, on to our change-over point at Reading. The satnav took us through the centre of Reading, which took longer than expected. Our replacements Phil and Alex were already there and between us we cobbled together a hot meal for the crew. They seemed to take an age to arrive as we paced the bank, but, in fact they arrived just about on the scheduled time. They were beginning to look tired but were on their way again after half an hours rest and a change of kit with the hot food. We handed over and tried not to forget anything as we checked out the car’s contents. Our team paddled away into the descending night.

Adam’s parents provided the shuttle between Dreadnaught and ‘base’ dropping off the overnight support team and taking John and myself back. Mrs D was also along to provide the encouragement. We got back by about 9.30pm and started tracking the team through the DW ‘where are they now’ site. The plan was to try to pick the team up again before Shepperton and follow them down to the finish. But, I lost them, and after contact with Phil sometime before early birdfart, the easiest way to make contact again was to go directly to Teddington via Hampton Court/Molesey lock.

Mrs D and I parked up at the half-mile tree between Kingston Bridge and Teddington lock, which is on the opposite bank to the Royal Club. Dawn broke and various canoes and kayaks passed us by, all of them looking as if they had had a really hard night. The weather was awful, light was just about making its way through the thick cloud base and rain. There just wasn’t anything encouraging about that particular dawn. As time dragged on without our crew in sight it began to look as if something had gone amiss. I was checking my watch as each new paddler hove into sight, and trying to estimate how long it would take to get to the lock before the cut-off.

Twenty to eight came and I was just about to give them best, when I realised that a crew that was almost passing us was ours. Due to the dim light conditions I hadn’t recognised them as they approached. Shouting what encouragement I could, they pressed on the last half mile towards Teddington. By the time we got back to the car and had driven round the houses, parked up again and walked to the lock, it was ten to eight and they were already there. But they were stopped on the opposite lock bank, before the checkpoint and with Phil and Adam’s mum feeding them! They eventually went through at 7.55am, the last but one crew before the cut off. Talk about taking it to the wire.

Normally I would have taken the train to Waterloo and walked to Westminster bridge. But British rail in their infinite wisdom had decided to suspend most of their rail services into Waterloo that weekend. So… it had to be up there by car. We actually found somewhere to park and arrived on the bridge before 10am meeting up with family and friends who had come to cheer the crew in. Phil, who had last seen our boys at Putney, calculated that they should be arriving at about 11am. That time came and went. The tide was still going out uncovering the banks, one or two crews actually running aground in the inch or two of water under the first arch.

But suddenly the banks were disappearing under water again and within moments the tide of water was rushing back towards Teddington, and still our crew were not in sight. Most of the crews we had seen at the half-mile tree came in during the hour up to 11.30. Then at last ours appeared between the bank and the boats moored in a line running parallel with them, forcing their way against the tide. Suddenly a couple of hundred yards away they stopped paddling. Surely they weren’t going to be thwarted in the last mile? Twice more they took up the stroke and twice more stopped. Family, almost the last of the onlookers left on the bridge, were chanting and screaming at them, willing them on over the line. Then they passed under the second arch to finally get into the lee of the county hall steps and collapse into the arms of the DW steps crew.