Oar Length Formula

In the process of gearing up for this summer, I've been trying to educate myself as much as possible about aquatics skills and aquatics equipment. I think I mentioned in an earlier post that rowing is probably the one with which I'm most unfamiliar. Today, however, I've managed to learn something new about rowing.

A review of our equipment inventory revealed that we currently have only eleven 7-ft oars, one (yes, one) 7.5-ft oar, and six 8-ft oars (though two of them look questionable, and I'd rather not use them). That means that we can put only seven fully-equipped row boats in the water, with only one spare 7-ft oar. Pretty scary.

So the camp needs more oars. The problem, however, is what length of oar we are supposed to get. No one seems to know what the proper oar length is for our rowboats.  I know from reading the Rowing Merit Badge pamphlet that oar length is a function of the distance between the oarlocks, but it doesn't get much more specific than that.

The best lead I got was from Jim, who said that oar length is governed by something the Red Cross used to call "Van Claussen's formula." So I tried to search for it on Google. No dice. But I did find that there was a 1956 canoeing book that was published by the Red Cross and written by W. Van B. Claussen, and I also found that the UW had it in its libraries. I picked it up this morning, and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but information and diagrams about rowing and proper oar length.

Here are the results of my research:

So there it is, simple and elegant. There needs to be a leverage ratio of 7:18 between the inboard and outboard oar lengths. Where x is the distance between the oarlocks, the oar length should [(x/2) + 2] (25/7). The formula does ask for the oars to overlap by four inches in the middle, but it's easy to recalculate if one wants to hold the oars with the grips just touching one another, as Jim prefers.

I don't know off hand what the precise beam of our rowboats is.  My guess, however, is that it's about 60 inches, which means that we should be using oars that are around eight feet in length. This confirms my own suspicion that our 7-ft oars are too short. Granted, my rowing knowledge has been limited so far, but they nevertheless did feel pretty weak to me when I used them. Regardless, Gary Smith, our in-house rowing aficionado, will be going in a rowboat this weekend to test our oars and find out what works for him, and we'll see if this formula holds up empirically. So stay tuned for the results of this experiment (I know this just has you all on the edge of your seats)...

Spring Break at Camp Parsons

Andy and I just returned from Camp Parsons, where we've been for the last 10 days. Spring Break started off badly for me - I came down with a mild flu two days after arriving at camp, and to make matters worse, I also had to finish writing two short papers for one of my classes - the very last assignments I had to do before I could finally bid good riddance to Winter Quarter 2011 forever.

Once I submitted those hateful papers, and after I shook off the flu with a good night's rest, I felt my whole demeanor brighten, and the rest of my stay at camp was thoroughly rejuvenating and carefree.

Although I let Spring Break pass at a fairly relaxed pace, I nevertheless managed to cram it full of wonderful experiences and exploits. I took advantage of the sunny days by going canoeing and teaching myself the J-stroke, and I also badgered Jim into letting me go sailing on his Kent Ranger 26. When we finally did, he said it was the first time he had ever sailed it, and it was the first time he had sailed a boat that he owned since about 1995.

When Andy Hoyle, Anthony, and Daniel came, we had a rowing lesson in choppy water, which was good practice - I think I now have feathering down. I also did odd jobs like chopping wood (something I had never done before), digging up a tree stump, cleaning Folton Creek Cabin, and so on. And with Andy's help, I also made a lot of progress in restoring the old Camp Parsons sign that went at the end of the pier.

What I've really enjoyed about this week, and what I enjoy about being at camp in general, is that I learn something new practically every hour that I'm there. It's a way for me to compensate for the many skills I never had a chance to learn as a child. I spent most of my younger days with my head buried in books, so although I can easily spout out esoteric facts like what languages are spoken in Belgium, I never learned practical things like what the difference was between a table saw and a chop saw. I also never had a reason to swing a maul (why would you build a fire in Hawaii? It was 85 degrees outside), so I never even knew that such a thing existed. And rowing just isn't done in the Islands, so until this past summer, it was completely alien to me. So it seems like every time I do something at camp, I'm quite literally experiencing it for the first time in my life.

I've done about as much with the camp's sailboats as I can do without spending money, but alas, money must be spent, so now comes the delicate task of figuring out how much Ken will let me spend. So far I've ordered a new $40 rudder pin for one of the Zumas, and I ordered a new drain screw for the Holder 12. But I'm certain that we'll discover many more little expenditures that must be made once we test-rig all of the boats. With luck, the test-rigging will occur next month, and everything will be ordered in time for camp.

The biggest headache so far has been the new mast section for the Hobie 21. We bought one used for $100 in Sarasota, FL, and it's all boxed and ready to go - it's just a matter of shipping it to Seattle. FedEx wants $550, but that's just not going to happen. Things started moving forward when Mike enlisted Tom Roger's help.  As an Alaska Airlines pilot, he flies between Orlando and Seattle, so he can have it put on his plane for practically nothing. But the trick is getting it from Sarasota, where it was boxed three weeks ago, to the Alaska Airlines cargo center at Orlando Int'l Airport, where it must be delivered in person. Tom tried to enlist his pilot friend who lives in Tampa to pick it up, but this friend is flying all the time and hasn't had the chance to trek down to Bradenton. Plus, I found out today that Tom's father-in-law passed away recently, so he's understandably focusing exclusively on his family for the time being. All is not lost, however - I just got permission from Mike to have the mast shipped via FedEx to Max Frisch in St. Cloud, FL, and then have Max drive it to Orlando when Tom is ready for it. Once I get an address from Max, I'm going to make the shipping arrangements.

Al Hutchison has graciously offered to pay for the new vinyl names for the sailboats. They are drawn from the names of the olden-day ferries that used to convey scouts to Camp Parsons. They are as follows:

Ranger 20: TYEE SCOUT

Hobie 21: SKOOKUM

Hobie 16: TILIKUM

Harpoon: ROOSEVELT

C-15: ADVENTUROUS

Flying Junior: KINGSTON

Flying Junior: CARLISLE

Flying Junior: REEVES

Flying Junior: MANITOU

Lido 14: TWANA

Holder 12: ROLLING HITCH
Laser: HYAK

Zuma: FORTUNA

Zuma: CONCORDIA

Zuma: ATLANTA