Oxford captain blames E.coli sickness for Boat Race defeat
THE Boat Race ended in controversy yesterday when Oxford’s captain blamed high levels of E.coli in the Thames for their defeat.
Dangerous levels of the bug had been found in the river near Hammersmith Bridge, with members of the Oxford crew falling ill during training in the build up to the annual race against Cambridge.
Oxford captain Leonard Jenkins said he had been vomiting before the start at Putney. ‘I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to race,’ he said. ‘I kept that quiet – it may not have been the right choice because I didn’t have my all to give.’
The crews had been warned to cover any scratches with waterproof plasters and not to swallow water that splashed up.
Mr Jenkins said: ‘It would be a lot nicer if there wasn’t as much poo in the water. We may not have beaten Cambridge, even if we were all on top form, but we had a few guys go down pretty badly with the E.coli strain.’
Cambridge reached the finish line with only seven of their eight oarsmen rowing as their exhausted stroke Matt Edge – the rower nearest the stern who sets the rhythm for his crew – could barely touch the water with his blade. He was carried from the boat by medics as thousands of spectators celebrated Cambridge retaining the title.
Levels of E.coli three times higher than the Environment Agency’s maximum standard have been found in the past month. Sixteen tests by campaigners River Action indicated an average of 2,869 E.coli colony forming units (CFU) per 100ml of water. The level should be below 1,000 CFU per 100ml.
IN A country where nothing seems to work, where you cannot see your doctor, where you cannot catch a train and where London’s streets are routinely crammed with demonstrators, we introduce the 169th Boat Race. As a corrective to the national malaise, what a joy to wallow in this tiff on the Thames.
We hail a sunlit spring afternoon, the banks packed with drinkswilling fans, most with only a tenuous link to either Oxford or Cambridge University. It is a vibe in danger of giving elitism a good name.
It is a miracle the diversity gauleiters have not hacked away at this tradition, just as modernisers wanted rid of the Eton-Harrow match at Lord’s, a squabble that has resulted in fratricidal tiechopping at the MCC.
Yet the Boat Race, harking back to 1829 and the reign of George IV, continues, a slice of London stilling for its procession.
This time, an upset — Cambridge won both the men’s and women’s races. There was added drama, too, and, alas, the problems of the old world poked through the hull.
Effluent was the pollutant stalking this race for the past week. This was because last year 464,092 sewage spills across the country rendered our rivers about as clean as toilet bowls.
Furthermore, the Environment Agency revealed this famous stretch of water was three times the minimum acceptable standard for E.Coli.
So it was going to be a mouthful of gunk for the winning cox, if the vanquishers conformed to the long-cherished ritual of dunking him in the river.
As someone whose garden goes down to the Thames a few hundred yards up from the start of the championship course, this waterway has never struck me as entirely chlorine clean.
Winston Churchill once described the Thames as the ‘silver thread’ running through the capital, to which our late Queen rejoined: ‘I never quite saw it in the way Mr Churchill did.’
As it happened, the triumphant steersman, Ed Bracey, remained as dry as a recovering alcoholic. Prior to Cambridge’s 10-second win, Bracey’s coach Rob Baker had forbidden any submersion for health reasons.
It was a wise move given that Oxford, the favourites, had been bitten by the bug.
‘This is not to take anything away from Cambridge, but I do also want to say that we’ve had a few guys go down pretty badly ill with the E.Coli,’ said Oxford president Lenny Jenkins. ‘This morning I was throwing up and wasn’t sure I was going to be able to race. I kept that quiet and ultimately that’s on my shoulders. It may not have been the right choice because I didn’t have my all to give in that race.
‘It would be a lot nicer if there wasn’t as much poo in the water. It’s not to take away from Cambridge, as we may not have beaten them even if we were all on top form.’
Sewage problems aside, this pageant may be dismissed as a wonderfully British eccentricity and nothing more. It should be celebrated for that if so.
But it is far more than that — it is the highlight of young lives, contested by people who hate contemporaries at the other best seat of learning.
What is at stake was made clear by the Cambridge stroke, Matt Edge, being carried away to be seen to by paramedics, exhausted. Edge, 23, and a Chemistry PhD student, was visibly in a bad way for the last three or four minutes of the race. His blade barely entered the water. He was there in spirit only. Had he been there physically, too, the margin of victory would have been far grander.
The awards ceremony started without him. He belatedly tottered on stage, supported at the armpits. A big cheer went up from his pals for their bespectacled survivor. He had given his all before entering a fuzzy uncertainty.
In fact, Cambridge were in charge throughout, Edge’s late waning notwithstanding.
The great capital bore witness to events. By Craven Cottage, Fulham’s ground changed by its new swanky, glass-shining riverside stand so at odds with its homely image, Cambridge held the advantage.
At the Dove pub at Hammersmith, where Thomas Arne wrote Rule Britannia, Oxford were being informed of their fate. By Mortlake Terrace, painted by Turner, it was game over. By Chiswick Bridge, it was only Edge’s lost dimension that breathed faint hope into the dark blue cause.
It was a forlorn exhortation. The sky was light blue.