The Royal Regatta at Henley on Thames

Henley is a peaceful English town tucked between the green folds of the Lower Midlands. The chimes in the stone tower of the Anglican Church peal over sheep meadows and farmers' plots, over royal parks and public playgrounds. The town is small; only six trains per day chuff up to the dead-end terminal to disgorge the Cockney families from Wands-worth or Chipping Norton or Stepney who come to enjoy a day on the river.

For 51 weeks of the year, Henley slumbers peacefully. Although the Sunday traffic from Slough can be heavy crossing the narrow bridge which leads over the Thames, little else disturbs the town until the first week in July comes. Then this litle country town is transformed into a semi-city; amusement parks, crowds, grandstands, and the BBC descend and line the banks of the river.

During this single glorious week, Henley becomes the center of the rowing world. Although few oars-men would like the simile, the Henley Royal Regatta can be compared to the World Series. Eights, doubles, and sculls from all over the globe--America, the British Isles, the Empire (or as the up-to-date British call it, the Commonwealth), and even from behind the Iron Curtain--head for the Thames to complete for the ten different cups. Admission to this unique event is by invitation only--and royal invitation since Her Majesty the Queen is the patron of the regatta.

To be invited to race is an honor, and to win an even greater one. After many years of waiting, 21 to be exact, a Harvard crew returned to England. And this time, the lightweight crew won the Thames Challenge Cup for the first time in the history of the College.

To get to the final race, the light-weights had to win four other races, almost all of them difficult, against some of the best American and English crews who didn't have to maintain a 150-pound average.

The first race pitted Coach Joe Brown's eight against Twickenham Rowing Club. The Twickenham men were heavy and well-trained; in fact, the Harvard contigent was outweighed in every race by 20 pounds a man and more. A solid stroke brought the local eight to victory by three and three-quarter lengths, referred to in polished circles as an "easy victory." Despite the lack of competition, Harvard won over the mile and five-sixteenths course--the "Henley distance"--in 7 minutes, 10 seconds, fastest time of the day.

Revenge perhaps could be called the reason for victory in the second race. In 1937, the only previous time when Harvard was invited to compete, Kent School eliminated its entrant. This time, the results were reversed, and the lightweights defeated Kent in one of the most difficult races of the week. Even a London newspaper called the race "the best in the regatta so far," and the extra weight of the prep schoolers almost brought victory. Harvard, however, finished in front by two-thirds of a length in 6 minutes, 58 seconds, the first Thames Cup trial won in a time under seven minutes.

After defeating the prep school crew, the eight proved their superiority over Washington Lee High School. This Fourth of July race was never close. Two lengths separated winner and loser.

Saturday, July 5. The "blasted British dew" finally let up after two days of continuous drizzle. Hundreds of people sloshed through the ankle-deep mud to the grandstands, where soaked seats sold for three guineas. Hundreds of others, even whole families, perched gingerly on the river banks, peering through binoculars, straining to hear loud-speaker announcements, and giving seemingly apathetic British cheers.

On this climactic day, the little arched stone bridge over the Thames was jammed bumper-to-bumper with Morrises, Minxes, and Jaguars. The little British Railways station was jammed; three times the normal services was provided for the throngs. And in the huge wall tent which covered the Harvard shells and served as a temporary resting place, the tension rose.

The Royal Air Force Benson Rowing Club had an impressive list of triumphs to its credit. With an average weight of 12 stone 8--176 pounds--the RAF men had an immediate 27-pound advantage a man. They had defeated Clare College of Cambridge, the Isis Boat Club of Oxford, and the Crowland Rowing Club handily.

Coach Brown called the race against Benson "our toughest." The men from the RAF covered the course in 7 minutes, 4 seconds, their second fastest time during the entire regatta. Harvard triumphed, however, by over a length in 6 minutes, 58 seconds, their second fastest time of the regatta also.

But the Thames Challenge Cup was still under contest. To win, Coach Brown and his men had to conquer the physical and mental obstacle personified in Thames Rowing Club.

The second race of the day was scheduled at 5:30 p.m., some five hours after the contest with RAF Benson. During the afternoon, Coach Brown and his crew waited anxiously at a small house in the town two blocks from the railway station. Although comparative timings showed Harvard to be superior, Thames had an average weight of almost 13 stone. With the eyes and ears of the nation watching or listening to the BBC, anything might have happened.

Harvard got off to a good start at a rapid 40 strokes a minute rate. By the Remenham Barrier, the one-third marker, the lightweights had grabbed a quarter-length advantage, and stroke Mark Hoffman was understroking Thames. At Fawley, the eight increased their lead to half a length, and continued to understroke the heavier, older British crew.

Thames put on a challenging sprint, and, to judge by the excited voice of the loudspeaker announcer, almost closed the gap. But noise was not enough. A final sprint and after 128 years, victory.

Officially, the margin of triumph was three-quarters of a length and the time was 6 minutes, 57 seconds. Though the race was close, the lightweights had conquered Thames and four other heavyweight crews to win the Thames Challenge Cup. Harvard was the only American victor in the entire regatta.

After the race, Coach Brown exulted. "We realized the ambition of every lightweight crew: to beat the heavyweights in a straight race." The eight was the lightest crew there, and were proportionally handicapped. The careful training of long months on the Charles and in the tank, however, paid off; for the first time in the 128-years history of the Henley Regatta, Harvard triumphed.

A week later, at Hamburg, the lightweights did not do so well against stiff Continental competition. An unfamiliar boat and a strange course hampered the crew. But the important victory had been gained. For the fifteenth time in the last seventeen years, an American crew toted home the yard-high Thames Challenge Cup, established just 90 years ago.

Henley soon lost the glamour of regatta week. The grandstands disappeared, traffic flow through the quaint town square returned to normal. But to eight Crimson rowers, their coxswain, their coach, and to their thousands of fans, this little village would always be a symbol of a magnificent effort.The lightweight eight in the Thames lock.