Of all the world's regattas, Oxford's Eights Week was one of the most picturesque and peculiar. Sandwiched into the London social calendar between Ascot and the Henley regatta, it marked the end of the University's summer term with a gala, six-day series of intramural crew races—not ordinary crew races but an Oxford specialty known as bumping races.
Bumping races, devised long ago because of the narrowness of the Isis (Oxford's own stretch of the Thames), are just what the term implies. Crews start two lengths behind one another, try to overtake and bump the boat ahead. During Eights Week, the college that finished Head of the River the previous year starts first; the others follow in order of their finish the year before.
Build-Up "Brekkers." In halcyon pre-war days, Oxford's summer term was one continuous build-up toward Eights Week. Six weeks before the event, the 23 men's colleges picked their eight-man crews with the care bestowed on the selection of a Cabinet. To add muscle and weight, the rowing hearties were subjected to a rigorous Oxford training combining exercise with heavy eating, such as "brekker" of porridge, fish, steak, huge racks of toast and mounds of marmalade — all washed down with draughts of strong, college-brewed beer.
When the great week came, the banks of the Isis from Folly Bridge to The Gut (a tricky S bend where crews first appear to the majority of spectators) were dizzy with excitement. On the Oxford side of the river, the college barges were a crush of gay parasols, gaudy blazers, tinkling tea cups, squeaking gramophones. On the other side, coaches, undergraduates, townsfolk and dogs flocked along the towpath —some on bicycle, some afoot — keeping abreast of their favorite boat. Coaches shouted through megaphones; others yelled, rattled rattles, tooted horns, fired blank cartridges. Many a cyclist in his heedless excitement pedaled over the towpath into the river.
Those who were unable to watch the races followed them in the newspapers. The London Times published the daily bumps in chart form that, to the uninitiated, looked like sabotage in a wire factory. Each bump was minutely described, with a recording of the exact spot where it occurred—such as Haystack Corners, Free Ferry, The Willows or The Gut —instead of fractional times or distances. Not uncommon were such headlines as "Jesus bumped St. John's at The Gut."
Bump Suppers. So it went for six hectic days. Then, in an orgiastic climax, the victorious colleges staged bump suppers, an occasion for all-night revelry that always ended with the climbing of college roofs and a colossal bonfire. Elated crewmen were affectionately dragged in & out of rooms, up & down stairs, until they could tilt no more.
This year Oxford's Eights Week was only a haunting ghost. The now shabby barges were deserted, the towpaths staid. But, to keep up tradition, as Britons will, 23 skeleton crews—made up of medical students, underage youngsters and a sprinkling of special study reserves—bumped one another on the lonely Isis.