> The catches that you put on the title of the thread
> are atrocious. These are catches beginner scullers
> can execute by themselves. Take a stroke, stop
> the vid at the stern most reach, then stop it again
> when the blade is buried. A solid foot.
Mike,
Agreed! The demonstration is not exactly perfect.
But isn’t the point that it is a “demonstration” as opposed to an actual
depiction of a “sculler’s catch?”
Would the catch look the same, or would blade entry necessitate a solid
foot, if the sculler had been sculling rhythmically?
What I am questioning is this. Is the “Sculler’s Catch” actually so
ill-advised? I know that for some it is very cut-and-dried that it is
totally the wrong way to catch. But below are two dissenting voices. The
first is Valery Kleshnev’s, the second Frank Cunningham himself.
My own observation is that in rough water I have found a sculler’s catch
very serviceable.
Cordially,
Charles
————/
Q: How can a faster vertical acceleration before the catch be achieved?
A: The main problem for a rower before the catch is combining the vertical
push upwards with squaring the oar. It is much easier to separate these two
movements and to do the squaring first and then to place the blade into the
water. This method should be recommended for beginners and young rowers.
However, as we showed before (RBN 2006/4), early squaring dramatically
increases the aerodynamic resistance of the blade. Also, rough water
conditions do not allow early squaring. Therefore, elite rowers very often
practice a combination of squaring with simultaneous upwards acceleration of
the handle.
Effective usage of the thumb is really important. It is easier to do in
rowing, but in sculling the task is more difficult because the thumb also
has to push the handle outwards to keep the oar button in contact with the
swivel. The thumb must be placed at the outer-bottom edge of the grip and
holds it with the base of the distal phalange (Fig. a). During the recovery,
the thumb must control the vertical position of the handle and push it
forward. Suddenly, before catch the thumb switches from pushing forward to
kicking upwards in combination with bending backwards (Fig. b), this allows
a quick squaring of the oar followed immediately by placing it in the water.
(RBN May 2007)
——————/
THE SCULLER’S CATCH
At the zoo the one day I stood awhile watching orangutans moving about in a
desultory way, filling the time, as it were, swinging their arms and
deciding whether or not to commit themselves to some small exertion or
other. Their movements, then, were nearly unpredictable, so when they
committed themselves to a convenient branch, the resultant swinging flight
was magically abrupt. I watched their hands to see how they anticipated
their holds, and discovered that the opening and closing of their fingers
was so casual as to suggest that their fingers were operating independently
of their owners. And, of course, they were executing the perfect sculler’s
catch, hooking the branches with their fingers!
But why should an orangutan be able to execute the catch better than most
rowers and scullers? There are, I believe, two reasons. One is that the
orangutan’s thumb is placed differently on its hand, lower, one might say,
and out of the way. The second is that the thumb is not completely
opposable. When we bring the thumb into play either under the handle or
across the end of it, a familiar reflex is called into play and the thumb
closes on and grasps the handle. To grasp the branch with the thumb would
result in serious damage to the inside of the thumb and the palm of the
hand. The form of the orangutan’s hand is a perfectly shaped device for
insuring the survival of the species of an animal that lives in trees.
So, in order to manage an oar or scull properly, we have paradoxically to
turn back the evolutionary clock and learn the use of our hands as if we did
not possess opposable thumbs.
—Frank Cunningham, “The Sculler at Ease,” p. 30
THE IDEAL CATCH
Starting the stroke with the blades already covered is the ideal way to
begin; however, it can only be used for the first stroke. Many crews start
races this way. , Still, it gives us minimum check, and a basis for gauging
the effectiveness of the next two catches. —Frank Cunningham, “The Sculler
at Ease,” p. 66
THE LOGICAL CATCH
Catching with the blades already squared above the water would seem to be
the most logical way to begin, except that in practice the blades must be
kept safely off the water until they change direction, so the center of 6 ½
inch wide sculling blades will be at least 3 ¼ inches off the water. The
tops of the blades will have to travel at least 6 ½ inches downward before
they are covered, during which the sculls swing through a considerable
portion of their arc. Meanwhile the thrust of your legs will drive the boat
backwards.
To test this effect, rest the blades in the water squared, then pop them out
and catch. After a few trials, you will be able to reproduce the squared up
catch as it would be in a moving boat. You will find that you have pushed
the stern further back than when you did when you began the stroke with the
blades covered. —Frank Cunningham, “The Sculler at Ease,” p. 66
THE SCULLER’S CATCH
In the third test lay the blades feathered on the water. The object is to
catch as if the blades were already covered, so let your fingers turn the
blade as you pull. Pulling the blades in will load them virtually as quickly
as if they had already been buried and will produce a markedly shorter
backward movement of the stern than did the previous experiment. The reason
is that the water will turn the blades for you if your fingers are quick and
light on the handle. If, as a Zen aphorism puts it, “You think that what you
do not do yourself does not happen,” you will fail to make use of a valuable
ally, the water itself. A reminder: any movement of the wrist slows the
entry of the blade, allowing the boat to move backward.
The gestures involved in moving a boat are extremely subtle. To make them
with the most economy of movement and effort, depend on what you feel and
hear. The transitions at each end of the slide have to be so smooth as to
deceive the eye, and accompanied by a spontaneous, quick movement of the
blade. —Frank Cunningham, “The Sculler at Ease,” p. 66