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University of Washington rowing team–University of California rowing team rivalry

The Boys in the Boat

The University of Washington rowing team–University of California rowing team rivalry was the defining West Coast contest in a sport whose prestige, resources, and national attention remained concentrated in the East. Dating to 1903, the rivalry gave two large public universities a common measure of success and drew students, alumni, and local spectators to their annual races. Its results were never only local: each team sought to establish that a western crew could challenge the established powers of American collegiate rowing, and each could become the other’s most immediate obstacle to doing so.

A West Coast contest in an eastern sport

In the 1920s and 1930s, collegiate rowing received coverage and crowds on a scale comparable to baseball and college football. Major regattas drew national sportswriters, and eastern private schools modeled rowing on the gentlemanly traditions of institutions such as Eton College, sending oarsmen on to Harvard University, Yale University, and Princeton University. The sport’s broad popularity therefore coexisted with a narrow geography of influence: its perceived center remained among eastern universities and rowing institutions.

The rivalry between the University of Washington and the University of California, Berkeley, helped give western fans their own recurring contest. Tens of thousands of students, alumni, and citizens could attend the schools’ April dual regattas, where the crews raced for regional preeminence. Their programs had struggled for funding and recognition even on their own campuses; occasional success against eastern crews offered a way to claim standing beyond the West Coast. California had already won Olympic gold twice, while both western teams continued to compete for attention in a system in which eastern schools held greater prestige and resources.

That imbalance shaped what the rivalry could accomplish. Western coaches received only a fraction of eastern coaches’ pay, and neither school had money for recruitment or the wealthy patrons available to some better-established programs. Their crews mostly raced one another, while the national center of collegiate rowing remained elsewhere. For Royal Brougham, the possibility that this center might shift west made the contest especially consequential: a rise in western rowing might bring recognition to the city of the Washington program, but it might benefit California instead. The teams’ rivalry was thus also a competition over which western institution—and which community—would be seen as the region’s representative.

Poughkeepsie and the western challenge

The Intercollegiate Rowing Association regatta at Poughkeepsie carried the weight of a national championship. Its history reached back through the early American rowing spectacle of the 1824 New York Harbor race and the first Harvard–Yale collegiate race in 1852. By the early twentieth century, the annual regatta drew enormous crowds: as many as 125,000 spectators attended in 1929, while millions more followed by radio. For western crews, appearing there meant entering a stage long dominated by eastern colleges.

The western challenge initially met skepticism and condescension. Stanford’s first appearance, in 1912, ended in sixth place. In 1913, Hiram Conibear brought a Washington varsity crew east for the first time; the team finished third, surprising eastern fans and the press. Stanford’s second-place finish in 1915 further unsettled expectations. The western schools—California, Stanford, and Washington—nevertheless returned only intermittently over the next decade. Transporting crews and delicate shells across the country cost money, and western oarsmen encountered a press and audience accustomed to seeing the sons of powerful eastern families rather than farmers, fishermen, and lumberjacks.

Washington’s 1923 Poughkeepsie victory demonstrated what a western crew could do on that stage. Under head coach Russell Callow, Washington and Navy entered the home stretch bow to bow. With the crowd drowning out his commands, Washington coxswain Don Grant raised a red flag cut from a Cornell banner to signal the crew to give everything it had. Stroke oar Dow Walling, rowing despite a leg grotesquely inflamed by three boils, raised the rate above forty. Washington narrowly secured the West’s first Intercollegiate Rowing Association victory. The team’s success brought astonished reporters to the dock with questions about where Seattle was and whether the rowers were really lumberjacks. Washington’s win made the eastern regatta a venue where western crews could overturn expectations, but it did not end the contest for durable national recognition.

The 1936 season: reversal between courses

The teams’ contrasting conditions and performances came into sharp relief in 1936. California arrived at Poughkeepsie with four oarsmen moved back into its varsity boat from the previous year’s national championship crew; six members of the boat had rowed in that championship. Reports also compared its stroke, Eugene Berkenkamp, with Peter Donlon, who had stroked California to Olympic gold in 1928 and to the fastest time then recorded on the Poughkeepsie course. Al Ulbrickson responded to the strength of the rebuilt California crew by testing Washington’s boats against one another. When the sophomores fell eight lengths behind the older boys on June 12, he demoted them to junior varsity, leaving the older crew as Washington’s varsity entry.

The national-title race on June 18 began with Washington and California in adjacent lanes, California in lane one and Washington in lane two. Washington established a narrow early lead and held it through the first part of the four-mile course, while California initially trailed. As the race progressed, Cornell and California moved past Washington; in the final mile, the two leaders fought closely while Washington fell two lengths back. California was declared the winner by one-third of a second, taking its third consecutive national varsity title. Its time of 18 minutes 52 seconds, despite a stiff crosswind and heavy chop, was nearly a course record. Washington’s defeat kept alive a pattern that troubled Ulbrickson: his crews could beat California in the Pacific Coast Regatta and still lose to it at Poughkeepsie.

The reversal mattered because the national contest also served as a test of Olympic prospects. After California’s Poughkeepsie victory, national coverage treated its varsity as a likely American representative in Berlin. Ulbrickson countered that a four-mile race did not settle the question of which crew would prevail over the Olympic distance of 2,000 meters. The distinction sharpened the rivalry: a result on one course could establish a national champion without deciding which team had the stronger claim to represent the United States. Washington’s immediate task was to prove that California’s success at Poughkeepsie did not settle the larger contest.

Home water, public support, and the rivalry’s stakes

On April 14, California arrived in Seattle as defending national champion. The previous day Ulbrickson had sent Washington’s crew into unusually rough water; when the California rowers came to the Montlake Cut the next morning, the water was smooth and the sun was out. The California crew, sun-bronzed beside Washington’s pallid rowers, made a formidable impression. Ky Ebright climbed into the coxswain’s seat of the California Clipper and used a megaphone to direct an eight-mile practice pull far down Lake Washington, beyond the Washington coaches’ sight. The visit brought the rivals face to face before their home-water race and made clear that neither coach regarded the other’s program as a minor opponent.

At the Pacific Coast Regatta, Washington defeated California in difficult conditions. Near the two-mile buoy, the California shell rolled off keel twice as two starboard rowers failed to release cleanly from the water, disrupting its rhythm. Washington opened a three-quarter-length advantage. With half a mile remaining, Bobby Moch called on stroke oar Don Hume to raise the rate; the Husky Clipper accelerated, and Washington crossed the finish three lengths ahead of the California Clipper. Both crews beat the previous course record, but Washington finished in 15:56.4, 37 seconds faster than the old mark. The result offered a vivid counterweight to the Poughkeepsie loss: on Washington’s water, the defending national champions had been decisively beaten.

The contrast did not erase the uncertainty between the teams. Ulbrickson had seen his varsity beat a strong California crew, yet earlier Washington victories at the Pacific Coast Regatta had been followed by losses at Poughkeepsie. He therefore treated the home-water result as evidence of the crew’s ability, not proof that the larger contest was over. His caution reflects the rivalry’s structure: repeated meetings created a meaningful comparison, but different courses, distances, and championships could produce different answers.

The rivalry also depended on resources beyond the crews themselves. Washington had to persuade supporters to finance travel to national competitions, while the costs of sending teams east weighed especially heavily on western programs. When the Washington crew’s opportunity to travel to Berlin was threatened by a demand that it pay its own way, the city rallied: donations ranged from $5 from a Tacoma donor who had once coxed for Hiram Conibear to $75 from Joe Rantz’s hometown of Sequim, and a $5,000 certified check was sent to Ulbrickson. The episode revealed how competition between the western programs belonged to a larger struggle for recognition and means. California’s successes raised the standard Washington had to meet; Washington’s home victories and public backing kept open the possibility that the national center of rowing—and the claim to represent the West—might shift north.