A few hours out on the water - Gig Rowing

When I was asked to go gig rowing for this feature I must admit I had no idea what was involved. How hard could it be? I thought as I made my way down to Weir Quay to meet the ladies squad from the Tamar & Tavy Gig Club.

But for the next hour and a half I was about to find out just how hard these ladies train.

The club was founded in 2004 and sits in the heart of the Tamar valley, surrounded by a blanket of trees that line the waters edge - home to cormorants, swans and even the odd lone seal that pops up every now and again.

 “It’s a team sport,” says Debbie Farmer, who will be taking over as captain of the ladies training squad in September. “The camaraderie is wonderful – we work together and we’re surrounded by beautiful views. It’s also great exercise; it’s an all over body workout so it definitely keeps you fit - our oldest member is 80!”

There’s no slacking when it comes to training - from the moment they board the 32-foot long gig and pick up their oars the ladies mean business. Joined by the chairman of the club - Mark Cockings at one end of the gig and me in the pilot seat – we set off down the River Tamar.   “The girls put a lot of effort into their training,” says Mark. “They’ve got to if they want to compete, but they enjoy it and there’s a real sense of teamwork within the squad.” I was surprised at just how fast we were going. The ladies made it look easy – slipping their oars in and out of the water in perfect sync, the only sign of strain a faint grunt here and there.

Gig rowing stems back to the 17th century when they would take pilots out to vessels and navigate them back to the harbour. Whoever got their pilot on board the vessel first and back to the harbour would win the race and be paid for the job. Today, it’s slightly different.

As we moved through the water I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful the land looked from a different perspective and how relaxing it made me feel as the gig glided across the river that was soon to become the ocean. With the wind in my face and the taste of salty water on my lips, I could see the Tamar Bridge getting ever closer.  Conversation came to a standstill as the ladies gathered their strength to drive the gig forwards, their grunts now in full swing (think Wimbledon but without the tennis balls). I could see the focus and determination etched on their faces. They were in a race against themselves and with the finish line in sight the gig was now at full speed.

Mark’s voice shouted out over the wind. “Drive! Drive! Keep your focus, keep those oars tight, nearly there – drive!”

The oars knocked against the side of the gig making a loud ticking sound as the squad pulled back and forth. When I closed my eyes it sounded like a grandfather clock keeping them in time.

As Mark counted down from ten, each stroke became more powerful than the last - there was no slowing down, no giving up – these ladies meant business.

When I looked up I realised we were under the Tamar Bridge - I couldn’t believe how far we’d come and I suddenly felt very guilty sitting back enjoying the view while the team stopped to catch their breath. It wasn’t long before they set off again.

Halfway back we came to a standstill and I realised it was my turn. Earlier I had been told that if the oars made round puddles in the water it meant the rower was working hard. How difficult could it be? I thought as I scrambled forwards and took hold of the oar, trying to look like I knew what I was doing. After instructions from my teammates, I started to row. The first few strokes were pretty good and for about ten seconds I felt like a pro - until my oar suddenly got a life of its own and started whacking the one in front, not just once but the entire time. I looked at the water for my round puddles – but all I saw was a tangled mess. In true team spirit, the squad told me I did great – they even asked me to come back – although perhaps for some lessons first.

It is clear the ladies love what they do, and after joining them I can see why. There is a real sense of team spirit - and it’s not all work and no play. 

“When the tide is right we take a mid-week row down to The Olde Plough at Bere Ferrers for pie and pint night,” says Mark  – where I’m told all three boats are always full. “There is also a social row that involves a much more leisurely pace where the rowers can chat, take in the scenery and even stop for a picnic.”

As we pull up towards the shore I notice another gig coming in with Ginette written across its side.  “Our beautiful boat Ginette competed in the World Pilot Gig Championships and we've competed annually ever since,” says member of the ladies squad, Sue Douglass.

Ginette was built by gig builder, Brian Nobbs and named after his wife Ginette - a highly supportive member of the club and a rower herself.  The club is very active in Devon and Cornwall and regularly attends regattas both locally and further afield to London, Lundy and even Eddystone Lighthouse.

“In our second year, we participated in the Great River Race in London where we came first in our category and won the Bulgin Pilot Gig Trophy,” beams Sue.

“We’re all volunteers and our success is a testament to the hard work, time, and effort the club members put into it.  It’s a great feeling to be at regattas together, supporting each other and cheering each other on. It’s brilliant to be part of a sport that can boost such an eclectic range of people and abilities.”

As my time on the water comes to an end I realise two things - one - that I need to brush up on my coordination skills and two - that gig rowing is much more than just a race. It's a passion. It's clear to me that each and every one of these ladies loves what they do and I wish them every bit of luck this year - they certainly deserve to win!

For more information and how to become a member please visit

http://www.tamarandtavygigclub.co.uk/ or email membership@tamarandtavygigclub.co.uk