Readify

Washington freshmen defeat California freshmen (April 1934)

The Boys in the Boat

The 1934 freshman race between the University of Washington and the University of California, Berkeley was a decisive early-season victory for Washington: the freshmen overcame a fast California start, held their effort in reserve, and finished more than four lengths ahead despite a headwind. Staged before a vast local audience, the two-mile contest joined the rivalry between the West Coast’s major collegiate crews to the immediate stakes of five and a half months of training and a possible trip east to race for the national championship.

Setting and Stakes

Collegiate rowing had a national following in the 1920s and 1930s, drawing prominent sportswriters, large crowds, and millions of radio listeners. On the West Coast, interest centered in part on the rivalry between the University of Washington and the University of California, Berkeley, which dated to 1903. Their April dual regattas drew students, alumni, and local spectators, though western crews still had fewer resources than their eastern counterparts and often competed mainly against one another.

That imbalance had a history. Eastern colleges dominated the Intercollegiate Rowing Association’s regatta at Poughkeepsie, where western crews had faced curiosity and condescension as well as competition. Washington had broken through in 1923, winning the West’s first IRA championship, but its success did not erase the larger divide between eastern rowing institutions and western programs. The April 1934 freshman race therefore mattered both as a contest between rivals and as a test of Washington’s young crew against the ambitions attached to the program.

The freshmen raced first, over two miles; the junior varsity and varsity events were scheduled to follow at hourly intervals, each over three miles. A few minutes of racing would measure months of preparation. Each oarsman faced more than three hundred strokes, and the eight-man crew had to make more than 2,400 clean entries and exits with its blades. One mistimed stroke could cost the race and the chance to travel to New York in June to compete against leading eastern crews for the national championship.

The Start and the Change in Pace

At 3:00 p.m., the Washington and California shells settled parallel to one another in a light chop off Sand Point. A moderately stiff north breeze had risen over the lake; the crews would row directly into it. Washington’s George Morry and California coxswain Grover Clark signaled that their boats were ready, and the freshmen started.

California opened at thirty-eight strokes per minute and surged a quarter length ahead. The crew then eased to thirty-two, while Washington settled at thirty and stayed a quarter length behind. For nearly a quarter-mile, the boats held that arrangement. Washington’s oarsmen, including Joe Rantz in the number three seat and Roger Morris in the number seven seat, could see only the back of the rower ahead; Morry, facing forward, could track California’s position and kept Washington’s rate steady.

At the quarter-mile mark the boats drew even. Washington then began to pass California seat by seat without increasing its rate. By the one-mile mark, Washington had open water between the boats. The growing sight of California falling behind gave the Washington rowers confidence even as the strain continued in their arms, legs, and chests.

The Finish and Its Immediate Aftermath

Clark tried to rally California with two calls for ten powerful strokes, the second at the mile-and-a-half mark. The first effort helped California hold its position, but Washington remained nearly two lengths ahead; by the second call, California had spent much of its remaining strength. As the crews entered the last half-mile and moved into the lee of the hills at the lake’s north end, the headwind subsided and cheers rose from the beaches, boats, and observation train.

With Washington already four lengths in front, Morry finally called for a higher rate. The crew moved from thirty to thirty-two strokes per minute, then to thirty-six, and crossed the line four and a half lengths ahead. Its time was nearly twenty seconds faster than the freshman course record, despite the headwind earlier in the race.

The result drew a loud response along the shore. Washington’s freshmen paddled over to collect the customary trophy of victorious crews: the shirts off their defeated rivals’ backs. They shook hands with the crestfallen California boys, then returned to stow their shell. Tom Bolles carried the Washington crew aboard the Alumnus and took them to the student ferry. Joe Rantz boarded with a California jersey and searched the crowd for Joyce; when she reached him, he embraced her and lifted her off her feet.

Crowd and Significance

The race unfolded before an audience on a scale that made the regatta a civic spectacle. About two thousand fans boarded an observation train at the Northern Pacific Railway’s University Station; more than seven hundred paid two dollars for places in open-sided viewing cars, while other passengers paid a dollar fifty for regular coach seats. The train followed the western shore of Lake Washington from Sand Point to the finish at Sheridan Beach and returned before the next race. Nearly eighty thousand Seattleites came out to watch the day’s races, a crowd larger than Washington’s football stadium could hold. In the Bay Area, thousands turned their radios from news of the manhunt for John Dillinger to the broadcast of the Seattle race.

The freshman victory gave a concrete measure of Washington’s strength: the crew answered California’s explosive start not with a premature sprint but with a controlled pace, then increased its rate only when its lead was secure. In a rivalry shaped by uneven resources and the older prestige of eastern rowing, the record-breaking margin made the local contest legible as more than a close regional duel. For the freshmen, it also turned the prospect of a championship trip east from a conditional hope into a prize they had earned the chance to pursue.