Gilder Boathouse in Winter

During a break this afternoon, I took the following photos at the Gilder Boathouse. Needless, to say, there isn't going to be much rowing down there today!


Gilder Boathouse entrance


Yale docks, hove-to in solid ice


The Derby Dam. Did you know that in the late 1800's (when winters were much, much colder than they are now), this was a popular location for ice skating? It's true!

Ghost Rowers in the Sky; or, A Winter's Tale

A poem about winter rowing, by Steve Gurney.

(Photos by Dianne Kelly)

Sherpas Paul and Wade, boating-up

It seems like many years have passed
Since summer breezes blew.
When thrushes nested in the grass
And purple flowers grew.

O then the days were warm and long,
The waters smooth and calm.
We launched our boats in peace and sun
And rowing was like balm.

Yet comes a time most every year
When winds begin to howl.
‘Tis time to bolt the boathouse doors
While winter’s on the prowl.

There then arose a stalwart band
One day came down to row.
There was no water then in sight
But only ice and snow.

Four souls it was, you may recall,
Their faces gnarled and grim.
They came to best the Great White Cold,
As even light grew dim.

These men, the best in all the Land,
Their bodies lean and spare.
Testosterone coursed through their veins
Despite their thinning hair.

These worthies launched in winter’s dread,
When all about was snow.
How carefree did they shout apace,
“A-rowing we will go."

Oars down -- winter sunrise on the Housatonic

Good Paul appeared upon the dock
And shrieked, “But we have rules!”
They answered back, “Such not for us;
They’re only made for fools.”

“Avast, me lads,” Paul did beseech.
“The rule says stay ashore.
Ye may not row when winter stalks
Lest ye be seen no more.”

“The rules to us do not apply.
We’re men of steel,” quoth they.
“We care not how the tempest screams,
Let’s go boys, all a-weigh.”

The storm, it blew a banshee wail,
The wolf left not her den.
Their answer to the howling gale:
“We are not boys, but men.”

They stroked into the screaming storm,
The tempest's raging roar
Then swallowed by its hungry maw,
Alas were seen no more.

And so they vanished in the murk
And night replaced the day.
Some say their ghostly scull still glides
In some place far away.

The Horses of Helios: Paul, Wade, and John P.

If they returned, we know not how.
No witness saw them land.
Their blood turned cold, their lips are sealed,
On them, The Great White Hand.

Now come the spring, in early morn
The mists not long to clear,
A glimpse, a ghastly quad-with-four,
Their faces mad with fear.

The moral of this fearsome tale
When winter stalks the gate:
“Abandon Hope, ye rowers all
For winter seals thy fate.”

Come summer - and the roses bloom
And daisies flood the dell.
There will be wiser ones who say,
“Alas, we knew them well.”

New Year's Day Row with NRRA, 2001

Recently, I came across these photographs in one of my archives. They are from our 2001 New Year's Day Row/Race with the Norwalk River Rowing Association.

From what I remember of that day, it was clear and extremely cold. The river was completely iced over. At our request, the dam authority opened the Derby Dam about an hour before the race, and the flowing water cleared enough ice to allow us to row upstream to the Indian, and downsteam about as far as the pizza restaurant.

Jim Cooper of NRRA supplied these photos. Many (but not all, of course) were taken by Jim. If you recognize any of the folks that I couldn't identify, please let me know and I'll update this posting.

Enjoy!


Jim Cooper, Malcolm Watson, Ned Williams, Eric Dannemann. Look at all the ice on that cold, cold water!

Rick Dyer, Larry Sweet(?), John Poole, Baxter Walsh.

Jim Benz(?), Phil Negus, Norwalk guy I can't identify, Lisa Rock.

The previous two quads rowing upstream.

The eight: Maria (NRRA) coxing, not sure who the stroke is, Scott Davies, Norm Thetford, Marc Nemeth, not sure, not sure, not sure, Paul Roy with a very thick mustache that year(?).

The eight paddling upstream.

Ned Williams, with two oars frozen to his gloves.

Don Chartier -- Don was the organizer of the New Year's Day Row back in those days. I recall he didn't row that particular morning, giving up his own seat so some one else could go out.

Don viewing the river.

The Lisa Rock quad returns to the dock.

Inside the upstream bay of the NHRC boathouse.

Downstream oar rack and singles tucked away for the winter.

View of the upstream bay door. The boats have been put away, the carpeting picked up, and everyone is breakfasting in the club room! Unfortunately, no breakfast pictures were in this collection.